Second Chance Twins - A Steamy Billionaire Secret Babies Romance (San Bravado Billionaires' Club Book 1)

by Layla Valentine

  Miles

  “Huh. All right.”

  I let the paper fall from my fingers, then ate my breakfast mechanically as I mentally turned over the events of the last twenty-four hours. It was eight o’clock on a Tuesday morning; it made sense that he would have to work. Even so, didn’t he sort of make his own schedule?

  “Seems to me that you would set aside some time to handle this situation,” I told the paper. “I mean, it isn’t every day that a pair of twins falls in your lap. Shouldn’t you sign off your own family emergency leave for something like this?”

  I cut into the pancake, mulling the whole situation over. The big reveal had happened over a weekend. It was entirely possible that he hadn’t been able to rearrange his schedule to accommodate the new information, but it was equally possible that he just wasn’t ready to give up his life the way it was yet. His business had been his baby for as long as his babies had been mine. Could he find room in his life for the three of us?

  “Maybe not right away,” I conceded. “It could take a few days to rearrange his life. That’s not too much to give him, is it?”

  A resentful little part of me said it was too much. After all, I hadn’t had any warning at all, had I? But then I remembered how long it had taken for me to pull myself out from under my obligations and move home to be a full-time parent.

  “Then again, I’m not asking him to be a full-time parent, am I? I’m just asking for room in his life. Or…not asking, I guess. This is up to him.”

  Deciding that it was his call on how much time and attention he wanted to give us, and that it would be up to me whether or not to accept what he was willing to offer, I got dressed and went home. Vincent was overjoyed to see me, and slammed into me at top speed for aggressive cuddles. Frida crawled onto my lap and took my face in her little hands.

  “Mommy no night night,” she scolded.

  “Sorry, baby. Mommy had some things she had to do. Did you have fun with Gran?”

  “No Gan! Mommy.”

  “Mommy’s here, baby.”

  Frida curled into me then, and I spent the morning reading my babies stories. My mind, however, was with Miles. Mom noticed my distraction, and when the twins had gone down for their naps, she took me into the kitchen and poured two cups of coffee.

  “All right, spill,” she said.

  I sighed. “It was a great night. He’s a great guy, and he seems to really want to be a part of all this, now.”

  “But?”

  “Who says there’s a ‘but’?”

  “That little uptick in your tone at the end there, and the way you’re stirring your coffee like it’s your last meal.”

  I took the spoon out with a baleful look in her direction and set it on the table.

  “But…well, this morning, he was gone by eight. We hadn’t even come to a decision about him meeting the twins, not really. I mean, he said he wanted to and I agreed that I wanted him to, but we didn’t make a plan or anything. I don’t even know when he wants to see me again…if he does. I think he does, but we didn’t establish anything.”

  “You established that he still gets excited by you,” Mom noted with a twinkle in her eye.

  I slid her a sideways glare, but I couldn’t really argue. With a resigned sigh, I looked into her eyes. She had lived such a similar life to the one I was living now, and she was all right. Wasn’t she?

  “What would you do?” I asked her.

  “What would I have done, or what would I do now with all of the knowledge that I’ve collected over the years?”

  “That second one.”

  She nodded, then sipped her coffee with a pensive air.

  “I would keep the lines of communication open. Limit the excitement just enough to get some details established.”

  “Which details would you start with?”

  “Well, meeting the twins, for one. Him acting as their father isn’t dependent on you two having a relationship. All he has to agree to is to be there for them before he meets them. Get him to give you a date for when he wants to take that first step, and go from there. Like I said, your relationship with him is largely irrelevant to him being a dad.” There was a soft sadness in her voice, and I reached out for her hand.

  “I know this hits a little close to home for you. I’m sorry.”

  She shook her head and smiled, but her eyes glittered with unshed tears.

  “I should have moved on a long time ago. I’m just glad I have something useful to tell you.”

  “Me, too. Thank you, Mom,” I said, squeezing her hand.

  Miles didn’t get in touch until late that night, long after the twins had gone to bed. He asked me to meet him on Thursday at noon at his place, and I agreed. When I arrived, though, there was no lunch to be found.

  “I just called in the order,” he said apologetically. “I got caught up with work. But…” He moved to me, sliding his hands around my waist and dipping his head to kiss my neck. “That does give us an hour to kill.”

  My mom’s words drifted through my head. Limit the excitement just enough to get some details established. I pushed him away slightly and gave him my most serious expression.

  “We need to talk about the details of you meeting the twins,” I told him.

  “Yes,” he agreed, pulling me close. “But wouldn’t it be so much easier to sort out the details after…?” His hands trailed down my waist and over my ass, coming to rest on the curves.

  He gave me that same sultry smolder he had years ago, and I melted. I would have had to be dead to resist him.

  “All right,” I conceded in a husky whisper, letting my body mold to his. “But you have to promise to talk it over after.”

  “I promise,” he mumbled as he kissed my neck again, driving me wild with his touch.

  He introduced me to his exhibitionist side, leading me to the couch which overlooked the city. We were so high up that there was virtually no risk of being seen by anyone on the streets of San Bravado, but it still felt extra naughty somehow to strip naked in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows. He pressed me up against them, pushing my thighs apart as he knelt between them and drank me in. The cold glass against my bare back contrasted sharply with his hot mouth, filling my body with exquisite sensations.

  His tongue danced over me, dove into me, complemented his talented fingers and lips until I was slick with lust, fingers tangled in his hair, hips bucking against his mouth. Miles groaned as I gasped and moaned, as the climax built within me and crashed over him.

  He stood up with a sultry grin, then spun me around so that my breasts were pressed against the window. His sheer size still thrilled me, and his masculine scent in the throes of passion drove me absolutely crazy. A flock of seagulls got an eyeful as he tangled a fist in my hair and drove into me, swearing under his breath as he caressed my curves.

  Dizziness swirled into my overwhelmed senses like a tidal wave, thrusting me into a pleasure cascade, making every part of me tremble and quake with the force of it. He moaned my name, his lips pressed to my shoulder, as he filled me with his ecstasy. He covered my shoulders with kisses as the heat subsided, leaving me shivering against the glass. Pulling me back to the couch, he wrapped a blanket around me and held me tight as we caught our breath.

  “Excellent lunch,” he breathed.

  “We didn’t even eat yet,” I pointed out playfully.

  “I did,” he said with a grin.

  I swatted at him lightly and he laughed. Just then, the doorbell rang. He scrambled into his pants to answer it, then took the takeout to the table.

  “Hungry?” he asked.

  “Starving.”

  We ate until our energy was restored, then made small talk for a while. Miles seemed to be dodging the issue at hand. I was willing to let him lead the conversation, but eventually, the pressure got to be too much.

  “You said you wanted to meet the twins,” I reminded him as we finished eating. “When would you like to do that?”

  “Soon,
” he said emphatically. “Very, very—oh, shoot.” His phone went off, and he checked it. “I’m so sorry, Shelley, I thought we would have more time, but I have to go. You can stay if you like.”

  He kissed me, but his mind was already off with his work.

  Frustration drove me out of the penthouse, and I spent the day losing myself in my own work. I felt a little better after I had poured myself into it, and even better after I had checked my bank account; if I kept working at this pace, I would be fine financially for as long as I needed to be. I would probably continue to live with Mom for as long as she could stand me, which would give me time to save up to buy a house—even without Miles’ money or participation.

  After putting the kids to bed, I sat outside on the patio, looking out over my mom’s meticulously maintained garden. She had thrown herself into that garden since Jenna and had moved out. I had never seen before how much frustration was poured into her even rows and upturned earth. Romance had never been kind to my mother, and I was beginning to think that it just ran in the family.

  I called Miles, and was sent to voicemail. Taking a long drink from my wine glass, I sent him a text instead.

  When would you like to meet the twins?

  Two hours and a full bottle later, he finally responded.

  Definitely sometime this week. Maybe this weekend. I’ll let you know ASAP. Lunch tomorrow?

  I considered it. If I met him for lunch again, I would need to be absolutely certain that I wouldn’t be seduced by him. The wine swirling through my system made me think that there probably wasn’t much chance of me succeeding in my resistance, but I had to try. I needed an answer, or at least an indication of where we were going. That wasn’t too much to ask, was it?

  Steeling my resolve, I agreed to meet him. But the following day, just as I was climbing into my car to head his way, he sent me a text.

  Raincheck, sorry. Something came up with work.

  “Shocking,” I huffed.

  My patience was wearing thin, and my mother was having a difficult time keeping her sharp comments to herself. The worst part was, I was beginning to agree with her.

  By Friday, I had banked our entire future on that weekend. But the weekend came and went, with me at home with the twins and him away on business, promising to see me on Monday.

  Monday evening, I pulled up to the restaurant he had chosen for our date, armed with a mother’s protective fury and a checkbook. He greeted me with his trademark boyish enthusiasm, but it didn’t soften my resolve. I had given him enough chances to do the right thing on his own.

  “Hey, Shelley! It has been a hectic week. How are you?” He kissed me and I let him, but I kept my defenses up.

  “To be honest, I’m pretty upset,” I told him.

  I watched his guard come up, then dissolve under furrowed brows.

  “Why, what’s up? Is everything okay?” He pulled my chair out for me and gestured for a waiter, who hurried over. With our drinks ordered, he looked at me with a soft, sympathetic expression. “So, what’s going on?”

  “Nothing,” I said exasperatedly. “Nothing’s happening, Miles. That’s the issue. How long is it going to take for you to engage?”

  He frowned, and the drinks came. We ordered food, and I kept my selections quick and easy. If this went poorly, I didn’t want to have a reason to stick around in awkward silence.

  “I’m sorry about this weekend,” he said. “I would have made it, but this deal was going to fall apart on me if I didn’t attend to it right away.”

  “I understand,” I told him. “I really do. Your business takes up a lot of your time; I was never under the impression that it didn’t. But there’s a problem.”

  “What’s that?” he asked with a defensive scowl.

  Our food came before I could answer, and there was a bit of a hectic lull in the conversation as the waiter arranged our dishes for us. Once he had departed again, I turned back to Miles.

  “The problem is that if you want to be a part of this family, you have to make the time to do it. Promises mean a lot to me, but they mean a lot more to the kids. They don’t want your money, Miles. They want a daddy. Or they will, when they get old enough to recognize what’s missing in their lives. I didn’t get to know my father for very long before he disappeared. I know what it’s like to grow up without one.”

  “I didn’t know that,” he said with sympathetic interest. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “No,” I snapped, and then took a deep breath. “Sorry. No, I don’t want to talk about him. I want to talk about you, and your relationship with the kids, and your relationship with me. As a single mother, I can’t afford to waste my time on people who aren’t completely invested in me and my children. I would rather continue to make it work on my own than spend my time and energy chasing someone who can’t be bothered to show up.”

  A look of deep chagrin settled on his face, and I resisted the urge to comfort him. Nearly done with my meal, I pulled my checkbook out of my purse.

  “Oh, no, I’ve got this,” he said, gesturing to the food.

  “I know. I’m not writing a check for this.”

  I filled the check out slowly and carefully, making him wait and wonder. I knew the amount in the account down to the last penny. There was more than enough in there to buy a new car with cash and put a down payment on a house, both of which I could have used. But in my mind, it was better that we were on a level playing field.

  “I don’t want to owe you anything,” I explained. “The money I make on my own is enough to support me and the kids, so I don’t need yours. I would prefer not to have it.”

  I slid the check across the table and he frowned at it. He didn’t make a move to take it.

  “What does this mean?” he asked.

  “It means you need to make a choice, Miles. If you want to be a dad to our children—a real dad—then you need to be there for them, one hundred percent. If you want to be with me, you need to be with me, not living on an adjacent plane and occasionally bouncing over to my reality. You’re in or you’re out; you can’t be on the fence about us.”

  I sat with my hands folded in my lap, bracing myself for his answer.

  “And the money…?”

  “Severs our last tangible tie. This is your choice, free and clear of all obligations; accepting you into our lives is my choice, free of anything that could be construed as a bribe.”

  “Ah. I see.” He lifted the paper and spun it in his fingers. “That’s a lot of money, Shelley.”

  “Yes. And the kids are worth more than all of it.”

  He nodded thoughtfully. The awkwardness was beginning to settle, so I picked up my purse and stood.

  “You have my number. Let me know what you decide.”

  He didn’t answer, but just continued to stare at the check. I left, swallowing my emotions as I walked through the restaurant and parking lot.

  It wasn’t until I started my car that the tears began to flow. I was prepared to deal with the consequences of my ultimatum. I just hadn’t prepared for the way my heart would ache.

  Chapter 15

  Shelley

  A Monday Later

  “And he didn’t say anything? At all?” Jenna huffed indignantly as she pushed Vincent in the swing.

  “Not a word. Just sat there, looking at the check.”

  “Has he deposited it?”

  I shook my head. “Not as far as I can tell. All the money is still sitting there.”

  “Well, that’s a relief,” she said.

  I gave her a sideways look.

  “What do you mean, a relief? He hasn’t responded to the ultimatum, and he hasn’t released me from my debt. How is that a relief?”

  She rolled her eyes. “It isn’t a debt; it’s a gift.”

  “It’s hush money.”

  “It was hush money. Now, it’s just money. Nobody’s asking you to keep quiet anymore, right? So, it’s just money. Your money, and you should use it however you see f
it. I saw a cute little house for sale on my way here. You could put a deposit down on it, get out of Mom’s hair—”

  “Mom doesn’t mind me living there,” I objected. “She likes seeing the kids every day and she enjoys helping. It gives her something to do.”

  “She has things to do,” Jenna argued. “She works, and she’s got her garden, and I swear if that woman doesn’t get back to her designs soon, I’m going to start poking her with sketching pencils until she does. Besides, she’s still young. She should be out dating and stuff, not raising the next generation.”

  “She isn’t raising them; I am.”

  “With her help.”

  “Well…yeah…but she likes to help.”

  “Look,” Jenna sighed as she lifted Vincent out of his swing. “She loves you. And she loves the kids. And because she loves you, she would never tell you this, but she has a life to get back to. She was more than happy to take you in and she’s happy to have you stay, but she’s put her whole life on hold all over again. She did it for us when we were kids, and now she’s gone and done it again. She deserves freedom, Shelley. And you deserve that money.”

  I lifted Frida out of the swing and set her down. She followed Vincent to the toddler-sized playground apparatus, and they began climbing the gentle slope of a plastic turtle shell. I hovered near Frida, knowing that she was going to try to follow in her brother’s footsteps, and was likely to tumble.

  “I don’t want the money,” I told her firmly. “I just don’t. If business keeps up the way it’s going, I’ll have enough of my own money to put a down payment on a little house in a few years. By the time the kids are in first grade, I’ll be able to move into my own place. That still gives her plenty of time to be a fascinating single lady.”

  I said it firmly, but suddenly, I wasn’t sure. Jenna had a way of pointing out obvious practicalities that I had a habit of missing. It threw me off balance every time, and especially this time. She was right. It was a lot of money to ignore, and I had been sort of invading Mom’s space for the last couple years.