Billionaire Baby Daddy: A Second Chance Romance

by Lara Swann

  That makes me pause for a moment. It’s pretty standard banter between us, but…

  …really?

  “C’mon, are we making breakfast or not?” He turns around, eyebrow raised, and I start walking again.

  I can’t quite shrug off the feeling though. It seems stupid, but now I’m wondering whether he actually meant that.

  Are there dozens of reasons he wouldn’t want to be with me?

  Not that I’ve ever cared about that. I haven’t even thought about it before. And it’s not like it matters now, either - this isn’t a real thing.

  It could even be helpful, as he said.

  But…it bothers me anyway.

  And I can’t even say why.

  Josh glances over at me in question, but I just shrug.

  I don’t understand it myself right now, so I’m not going to try and explain it to him.

  I’m probably just confused about this strange mix of real and pretend, and all the blurred lines we’re playing with.

  The sooner this whole thing ends, the better.

  Except for some reason, I don’t feel entirely comfortable about that either.

  Irritated with myself, I try to convince myself that now isn’t the time to be trying to work any of that out - and jump when Josh takes my hand and I realize we’re approaching the dining room.

  “To battle, then?” He tilts his head at me, giving me an ironic smile and squeezing my hand.

  It has the intended effect.

  I laugh, and nod, grateful again for his presence and ability to bring me out of my head.

  Then he drops my hand to open the door, and I’m even more appreciative of the last-minute show of support as I realize that it’s probably the last time I’m going to get it today, if we want this to work.

  That gives me a momentary pang of disappointment, but it’s what I wanted - and I feel a small warmth at the idea that we’re in this together.

  To battle, indeed.

  It’s a good thing too, since the moment I walk into the room, it feels like everyone turns to look at me - again. I’m starting to feel like I’m the main source of gossip for the whole family. Which is probably true.

  “Ohh…my…” My Mom’s murmur confuses me, followed by a hiss. “Cassie!”

  John coughs and looks away, and no one quite meets my eyes. It’s not until Beth glares at me that I work it out.

  “Fuck, Cassie, look at you. We heard you all night, too - couldn’t you have had some damn consideration?!”

  Oh yes. Of course.

  I almost laugh out loud as I reach up to my neck - where everyone is trying not to look.

  Then I remember I’m not supposed to be happy right now, and cut off the urge. But their sudden prudishness amuses me, and I can’t help the little thrill that runs through me at the thought of what we got up to last night.

  Josh saves me from having to answer, shrugging offhand and walking away from me towards the food.

  “Well, you know what they say about the angry, make-up kind of sex.” He shoots a narrow glare my way and then mutters under his breath. “Not that the make-up part really worked.”

  I have to bite my lip to stop from laughing again, and try to wrestle myself under control.

  For all that I complain about him not taking this seriously enough, he doesn’t actually need the strategy discussions I keep starting. I’m the one who might be at risk of screwing it up. Josh…he’s a fucking master at playing this game.

  I use the cover of finding food to get my head straight again, curbing my amusement at Josh’s sudden shift in attitude, and then we take dialing up the tension to heart.

  I watch as Josh makes rude comments, practically takes food off other peoples’ plates, not-so-subtly insults Beth’s dress and my mother’s hosting skills, and complains about me all through breakfast.

  Towards the end, Maria comes in with Ellie and Lucas, then hands them over to John as she goes straight up to thank Josh for what he did yesterday. And the guy who I’d watched dive in after Lucas, as panic-driven as all of us, who spent hours comforting me despite his own fear…the one who didn’t even stick around for my family to thank…he just looks up at Maria and frowns.

  Dumb boy…totally irresponsible to let him out on the water in the first place…

  I don’t catch everything he says, but it’s enough to make me wince, wishing he hadn’t gone there.

  I know what he’s doing, and Maria is a strong woman - the kind of mother I’d hope to be someday - but anyone would be finding it hard to take the guilt of what almost happened yesterday.

  She goes stony, and I see John a few seats away do the same, glaring at Josh’s back. To her credit, she doesn’t even try to defend herself, simply repeating her thanks and walking stiffly towards her husband.

  Okay, maybe Josh was right. Maybe saving Lucas isn’t enough for them to forgive him anything.

  Josh goes back to eating as if nothing happened at all, and I try to ignore the sudden silence around us.

  “Okaay, well, everyone!” My Mom stands up to say something, and I’ve no idea whether that’s been timed deliberately or not, but for once I’m actually glad for her largely-unnecessary morning announcements - if only to break the uneasy stillness. “It’s so sad that today is our last full day here, but it’s been lovely to see you all together again, and for us to celebrate Beth’s engagement. And we thought, what could be better for our last day than one of my favorite family traditions…a soccer game! So, let’s enjoy the day, but please everyone meet out back after lunch, and we’ll see who the winning team is this time!”

  “Traditional family soccer game?” I mutter to Mark next to me. “I swear we’ve played that, like…twice…”

  He laughs, trying to cover it with his hand, and rolls his eyes at me. “You know what Mom’s like with family traditions.”

  I grin back, appreciating the first pleasant interaction I’ve had this morning.

  She does seem to like inventing them, as though she feels we ought to have all these things we do together every vacation.

  That seems to be a signal for everyone to disperse, though, and it’s not until I get outside that I realize how glad I am to get away from the tense atmosphere that’s built up in the dining room. Looking around, I’m pretty sure everyone else probably feels exactly the same way - which I guess Josh intended. He’s always been able to create whatever mood he wants.

  And it makes me wonder, just a little bit…if he’s so good at faking this…how much of anything he does is real?

  I push that thought away as I head towards the pool - the same place most of us seem to be going. It might not be mandated family fun time at the moment, but I guess we all want to make the most of our last day here.

  Josh falls into step beside me, and I look up in surprise.

  “Want to make peace for the morning?” He suggests, the amusement lacing his tone totally at odds with the cold look on his face. “Enjoy our last few hours by the pool without fighting?”

  I glance around, but no one’s close enough to hear us, and try to keep my expression as controlled as his, even as I want to laugh.

  “Sure.” I say quietly, preferring that idea anyway. “We can always lounge at opposite ends, not talking.”

  “Perfect. I don’t want you interrupting the best part of this play anyway.” He says lightly, and I glance down at Hamlet in his hand.

  “Haven’t you read that ninety-bazillion times already?” I ask.

  “So? You know I really think it’s his best work, Caz. It’s got just the right mix of—”

  “Okay, okay. Anyway, peace treaty agreed.” I hold up my hands. “Enjoy your book.”

  It amuses me that he never seems to realize that I’ve already heard everything he’s about to say. Dozens of times. I could probably start quoting his argument to him at this point.

  “Unless…” He continues, his tone changing. “If you wanted to sneak away somewhere and continue where we left off last night…I�
��d be willing to forgo the play.”

  I glance up at him again, completely bemused at how he can make such a seductive, sultry tone can come out of a stone-cold face. But turned on at the thought anyway. A small thrill runs through me, even though I know we can’t.

  We really shouldn’t…

  “If only that was actually a good idea.” I shake my head reluctantly. “But giving up on Hamlet…I’ll remember that one. I must really mean something to you.”

  I say it as a joke, but the instant it’s out there, I recognize it for what it is and get pissed at myself.

  I’m doing that silly girly thing I’ve always despised. Throwing out a comment to get him to agree, and make me feel like…something. I’m not sure exactly what I’m looking for.

  What do I want to mean to him, anyway?

  “You’ve always meant something to me, Caz.” He throws an arm over my shoulder, and neatly sidesteps it anyway.

  Of course I’ve always meant something to him. We’re friends.

  I try not to sigh at my mixed up feelings, and look around again.

  He notices my concern and withdraws his arm. “Want to storm away from me then?”

  “Oh, yeah, sure.” I say, reminded for the umpteenth time that he actually knows what he’s doing.

  I take a breath, give him one last hidden smile, and then push away from him.

  “Fine, then.” I say loudly, and walk off towards the sun lounger at one end of the pool.

  I feel his eyes on my back the whole time. I’m pretty sure he’s scowling - that would fit - but that’s not what I feel at all.

  Instead, it’s the kind of gaze that makes me feel like I’m naked all over again, hot and passionate and panting under him.

  I try to shake off the feeling, but it persists throughout the morning, and not even my book can distract me from it.

  I bet he’s having better luck with Hamlet.

  I’m pretty sure he prefers that play to most of the women he’s been with.

  You included?

  I tell my mind to shut up, but lying in the sun with my eyes closed, there’s nowhere else for it to go.

  I’m missing his hands on me. The casual intimacy we’ve had this whole week. The way he’d tilt my head up and kiss me. Tuck my hair behind my ear. Pull me to him.

  And it’s only been half a day of distance.

  I know I’m being ridiculous, but I can’t help it. Maybe it’s just the hangover from lust and hormones and crazy sex last night.

  I’m almost glad when the barbecue starts going and we all gravitate towards lunch, just because Josh and I start talking again.

  Especially since we make a point of sniping at each other. Something I hadn’t realized just how much fun we could have with.

  It feels just like our usual banter, except…to extremes. No holds barred comments, with a few dirty looks thrown in.

  And it’s ridiculous enough that it’s obviously fake, too. I don’t have to wonder whether maybe he means any of it, as half the shit he’s saying he’s making up on the spot. I am too. Inventing lies and fake stories about each other on the fly.

  We should’ve done this from the beginning.

  If only for all the banter that will come when we talk about it later, too.

  I actually start relaxing after the tense morning, feeling better about the whole thing. Somehow, it bothers me a whole lot less than when he’s pissing off my family. I know that was the deal, that was what I wanted. And hell, it’s been fun seeing Mom and Beth’s outrage at times. But…whenever it turns to Maria or Mark…I start getting confused.

  I end up wanting to jump in and defend him, to let them know that he’s not really a complete asshole, or feeling guilty about the whole deception.

  By the time we get to the traditional family soccer game, I can tell we’ve irritated the hell out of everyone just with the arguing, and I’m getting more than a few looks. But I just take it as a sign that it’s working. And just in time, too.

  I have no idea what a professional director would think of this show, but it seems to have convinced my family.

  I haven’t had anyone question whether we’re actually a couple. And with the way things are going right now, no one will question the magnitude of our break up, or my desire to abandon guys for a good long time.

  I manage to avoid actually playing in the soccer game - but not quite watching it. Which mostly involves wincing as Josh takes his well-documented competitive streak to another level entirely.

  At least he’s not actually body tackling anybody, I guess. And he keeps it remarkably kid-friendly too. Despite all his jackass behavior, he’s been careful not to upset Lucas or Ellie. But…even so…the trash talk he comes up with is creative as fuck.

  Halfway through the game, he’s running right alongside Mark, the ball weaving between them and vying to score past Mark’s keen defense. He feints, yelling and taunting my brother, and Mark lunges after him - then trips, falling and cursing loudly. Josh swings around almost immediately, the ball forgotten as he reaches to help Mark up. I can hear his concerned query from here, and even I’m surprised at the complete u-turn in his attitude.

  Mark gives him a confused look, but tests his ankle anyway, wincing, and then accepts Josh’s help over to me.

  “Can you look at this for me, Cassie?” Mark asks as he slumps down onto the chair beside me.

  Josh gives him a small wave, and then runs back to the game, his taunts and insults resuming as if nothing had happened.

  “You know, identifying a twisted ankle doesn’t really require a medical degree.” I say, but feel it for him anyway.

  “Then why’re you getting one?” He grouses.

  I grin at him, before confirming. “Yep, definitely a twisted ankle. You should rest it. And it’ll probably be fine in…ohh…half an hour, maybe.”

  “Thanks, darling.” He matches my sardonic tone, then turns back to watch the rather inept game.

  “I would’ve saved that.” Mark adds a moment later, as we watch Josh knock the ball into the net for the third time.

  “Mmhmm.” I answer, non-committal. “I’m not sure I signed up for your commentary.”

  Josh does an unasked for victory lap, and I try not to laugh at the way it irritates everyone else.

  “You know, I really can’t work him out.” Mark says eventually, and I wonder whether I should have voted for the soccer commentary after all.

  “Oh?” I say, trying not to encourage him.

  “Yeah, sometimes he seems like two different people.” Mark sighs, then puts his arm around me. “And however much you like him, Cassie, even you can’t deny he’s been an insufferable ass today.”

  “Yeah, I know.” I shrug.

  We’ve spent the whole day arguing. It doesn’t hurt to act like I’m annoyed with him.

  Even if it’s so hard not to jump on Mark’s two different people comment.

  “I’m sorry things are difficult for you at the moment, Cassie.” He continues after a while, squeezing my shoulder. “And maybe it’s to be expected…introducing someone to your whole family is never easy. Particularly this one. But…you know I’m always here for you, right? Whatever happens.”

  I feel another pang of guilt as I nod, not wanting to say anything. I shift closer to him, enjoying the weight of his arm, but inexplicably missing having Josh’s around my shoulder instead.

  I hope they never find out that it’s all been a lie.

  I wonder whether it’s gone too far.

  I try to remember that it’s my Mom’s fault - it’s because she goes too far, with everything, and that’s how this whole thing started.

  But it’s hard right now.

  And I don’t know what to make of the way Mark is trying to justify Josh’s outrageous behavior, either. Is it just to support me, or does he actually like him?

  Maybe his attitude hasn’t been as effective as I thought.

  “Oh!” I suddenly remember something. “You were saying something, yeste
rday - you wanted to tell me something. Before we got interrupted by…well, everything.”

  Now it’s Mark’s turn to look uncomfortable, and he takes his arm back to give me a sideways glance.

  “Ah, well…I don’t know. I’m not exactly sure…” He hesitates.

  “Just tell me, Mark.” I nudge his shoulder. “We’ve always been able to talk about shit.”

  Or at least, until this week.

  He pauses a moment, glances at where Josh looks like he might be about to come to blows with Neil, and then finally shrugs.

  “I just wanted you to know…I know things haven’t necessarily been going well, with Josh, all week. And, well, I saw him sidling up to that friend of Beth’s - Nikki - at her party. I had no idea where you were, but I saw the way they were…well, you know.” He looks completely awkward. “I just wanted to tell you, yesterday, because you seemed so sure Josh was a good guy and…it could be nothing, of course, but I thought you should at least know.”

  I think he says some other things too. I’m not sure. I can’t tell.

  My vision feels like it’s narrowing to a single point in front of me, as I stare off into the distance and chills spread through me.

  Nikki. That was her name.

  I have no idea where she’s fucked off to today, but I know exactly who Mark is talking about.

  Pretty. A silly, giggly girl with dark, flowing brown hair and a perfectly shaped hourglass figure.

  Exactly Josh’s type.

  That would explain the way she was acting around him, vying for his attention.

  Fuck it. Fuck him.

  It’s not that I care if he wants to go fuck another girl, or whatever.

  That’s what Josh does, after all. New girls, new fuck buddies, new relationships, every day of the week.

  And we’re not actually together. I don’t have any claim on him. This isn’t real - he’s only my fake boyfriend.

  But he shouldn’t be fucking doing it here.

  While he’s pretending to be my boyfriend. While we’re trying to keep up this act for my family. While he’s sleeping in my fucking bed.