Accidental Baby: A Billionaire Secret Baby Romance

by Lara Swann

  And suddenly my Dad is laughing and joining in with the rib-crushing hug, pulling us both toward him.

  He kisses the top of my head, then shakes his own.

  “My little girl…I can’t even believe you’re old enough for something like that.”

  I laugh back. “Yeah, me neither Dad. I don’t feel old enough.”

  “So, how long have you known? How far along are you? And the father - what’s he like? When do we get to meet him? Ava, we need to know everything.”

  The questions suddenly start flowing out of Mom and I spend the rest of the afternoon answering them, chatting excitedly about everything I might ever need to know about babies. I feel bad that I waited so long to tell them - but this way, I really can say that I think everything is going to be okay, and I get to give them the experience of this that I always wanted them to have.

  Simply able to enjoy it and share in the excitement with me, without worrying about all the details.

  They never have to know that for a while there, I thought about giving up the baby entirely. That feels so much more right to me than the way this conversation would have gone a few weeks ago, and no matter how much Vicki thinks I did the wrong thing to wait…I’m glad I could give them this.

  I don’t exactly tell them that he’s my boss, but I say that we work together at the moment and it’s complicated - but we’re working it out. They don’t seem to mind too much - I think they’re just thrilled that he exists and we’re doing this together. Hell, I’m thrilled enough about that myself.

  By the time I eventually head back to my new apartment - after promising to invite them over, and to give them a chance to meet Damien at some point - I feel happier than I can ever remember being.

  For once, it seems like something in my life is going right.

  I know there’s still a lot to work out - especially about my job - but I’ve started thinking it will work out, which is better than I have done for a long time.

  I get off the bus with the suitcase I’ve taken from my parents’ place, wondering whether I should have accepted their suggestion that I stay over - or the ride home.

  Definitely the ride home.

  Maybe I really should think about Damien’s offer to find me a car of some sort. I guess I’m going to need one, but I’m so used to walking and buses it seemed like an extravagance - and I’m trying to be careful with how many extravagances I start enjoying all at once. It still feels like too much at times.

  I am enjoying the new place too much not to head back there tonight though, and there’s no doubt that it’s closer to work for the next morning.

  And closer to Damien.

  That’s been a perk we’ve been enjoying a lot of. I’m half-thinking about texting him to ask whether he’s busy tonight when I cross the road to the street with my apartment block on it, nearly bumping into someone coming the other way as I try to maneuver with my suitcase.

  “Oh, sorry—”

  “Ava?!”

  I blink, looking up at the face in front of me as shock rolls through my whole body.

  I know that voice.

  “Jackson?” I say, my mouth open wide as I take a step back to look at him. Being too close just feels weird. “What are you doing here?”

  His face is written in shock too, but it closes off almost immediately, replaced by a now-familiar condescension.

  “This is my hometown too, remember? I do visit.”

  Not much when we were together, you didn’t.

  “Oh…” I glance around, feeling awkward. “Yeah, I guess.”

  I’m not sure whether I’m supposed to ask about his parents or what the etiquette is, but he suddenly feels like so much a part of my past that it’s just unnerving seeing him standing here in front of me. Like a distant memory suddenly sharp and vivid and alive.

  I’d rather just leave - but the moment I think that, he gives me a quick glance up and down.

  “I guess you must’ve moved back with your parents, huh? Is that where you’re living now?”

  The mock-sympathy there grinds on my nerves and I feel my back stiffen. It’s none of his damn business.

  “Your business still not quite going the way you’d hoped?” He continues, and behind the attempt at sympathy there’s also a very clear ‘glad I got out when I did’ vibe that makes something in my gut churn.

  I spent so long being distraught about the way he dumped me - and why - and what he thought about me and my life…the sudden reminder is the last thing I want.

  “Actually…” I start, thinking of the awesome new job I have and the great apartment I’m living in…but then I stop myself. I blink as I realize it really doesn’t matter - and I have no interest in telling him anything. I shrug instead. “You know what, never mind. Hope you have a good time at home, Jackson.”

  See? I can be civil. I can refuse to lower myself to trying to one-up him after our break up.

  Go you, Ava.

  I move to step past him, but his gaze narrows - and his eyes flick to the suitcase I’m wheeling along beside me.

  “Moving are you, Ava?” His face twists, and for the first time it seems ugly to me, as he takes a dramatic breath. “Oh god, I hope your parents haven’t kicked you out too—don’t tell me they got tired of waiting for you to finally make something of yourself as well?”

  I stop where I am, just staring at him for a moment.

  What. The. Hell.

  He said some pretty harsh things when he broke it off with me - and I know for certain that Vicki has never forgiven any of it - but I was willing to put that down to some of the emotions and stress of a break up. Especially of such a long-term relationship. Everyone can be mean sometimes, when emotions get the best of us and we’re feeling defensive and guilty.

  But now?!

  This is not a heat-of-the-moment difficult break up thing. This is just…

  I don’t even know what it is.

  Was I really with someone who would say something like that now - who would so obviously try to make himself feel better about making the right choice by saying…that?

  Did I really spend so long being upset about things ending with…him?

  “I…” I can barely think of anything to say. I still can’t believe he would say something like that.

  Who does that?

  “No, actually.” I say, woodenly, my voice calmer than I feel inside. “I’m living around here now.”

  He glances around, very obviously, the skepticism clear in his expression.

  “Really? You? This is a fairly…nice…area of town for you, isn’t it?”

  I shrug again, wanting to just leave but refusing to give him the satisfaction of watching me storm off in response to his comments. They’re just petty and stupid - but I don’t want him to think they’ve got to me. I don’t even think they have. If anything, he just seems like a joke himself—

  “Unless…” He smirks suddenly. “Don’t tell me you’ve tricked someone else into supporting you already?”

  I recoil at that - everything else he’s said has just seemed outrageous, but that…that hits me hard.

  “Oh damn, you have.” He says, suddenly grinning maliciously as he looks me over. “Wow, girl, that didn’t take you long. Makes me feel slightly better about falling for that act all those years, but still…poor guy.”

  He shakes his head, seemingly sadly, and I want to be able to say something. I really do. I want those words not to go so deep and tap into every fear and insecurity I have but…

  Seven years together.

  He knows exactly what to say.

  I barely manage to stammer anything before he starts walking past, shrugging and whistling slightly to himself.

  “Good luck with that dead-end career of yours, anyway. For his sake, I hope you actually make it one day. See you round, Ava.”

  “Screw you, Jackson.”

  What finally comes out isn’t original or pithy or…anything. And it’s too late too, when he’s already behin
d me and barely even there to rage against.

  But damn, I’ve never been good at come backs, and…and…and…

  I bite my lip hard as I force myself to start walking, to act like nothing he said got to me, even though I want to shove a fist against my mouth and bite down hard to try and contain the tears I feel prickling at the edges of my eyes.

  No. No, Ava, it’s not true. None of it is true. He’s just being a dick. Vicki was right. He was deliberately hurtful, all those things he said…he was trying to hurt you…he’s a jerk. Ignore him. He’s wrong. He’s wrong.

  But the words eat at me anyway.

  I don’t think they’re true.

  I haven’t ‘tricked’ Damien into anything.

  I mean, sure, I got pregnant with his child, but that was an accident and…

  I’m walking so fast I’m almost running as I get to the apartment building, finally making myself pause slightly as I walk inside and head straight to the elevator - not even wanting to look at the nice man from the concierge. Most of the time, I exchange a nice greeting or a casual joke, but…

  I breathe heavily as I retreat into the elevator, but the shiny nice-ness of it all only stabs at me harder.

  Jackson’s right about that. I’d never be able to afford this. Not without Damien.

  I thought I was okay with that. I am okay with that. But…damn…what if he’s right?

  I try to cut out all of the circling thoughts as I finally get to my apartment, my suitcase tripping me up awkwardly until I throw it off me and stumble into the living room. I collapse onto the couch, already reaching for my cell phone.

  He’s wrong. I know he is. I know better than that. But it’s a shock, and…

  I dial Vicki’s number immediately. I just need someone to tell me what a dick he is and that Damien isn’t like that. That he doesn’t feel the same way about all of this that Jackson did. That he’s not going to suddenly abandon me because I haven’t been as successful as I hoped.

  Because, damn it, the way my life goes…I’m not sure success is something that I’ve ever known.

  “Vicki…” I breathe as soon as she picks up, still partly choked up with my attempt to stop the emotions pounding in my chest.

  “Hi Ava.”

  Her voice sounds a little distracted, but I barely notice.

  “Vicki…I just saw Jackson.” I say, and it starts tumbling out of me. “He was here—right here—and he said—he said—”

  “That’s what you’re calling about?” She interrupts, no emotion in her tone. Or at least, no emotion I’d expect for having just said I saw Jackson.

  “Yes! He was right here, outside my apartment, and—”

  “I’m sorry Ava, I really don’t have time for this right now.”

  I blink, pulled up short by the blunt disinterest in her tone.

  “What?”

  “I’m busy and—”

  “But—”

  “Sorry, I have to go.”

  “Wait, Vicki…what…what’s wrong?”

  Vicki is never like this. Never. She’s always there.

  “What’s wrong?” Her voice is a little incredulous, but at least there’s a little emotion back in it. I frown, clutching the phone to my face as my heart pounds out of control in my chest. “I’m just tired of all this, that’s what’s wrong.”

  I blink furiously, the tears I thought I had under control slipping out of me at the sharpness of her tone.

  “What do you mean?”

  “What do I mean?” She repeats, obviously irritated. “I mean, when was the last time you called me about anything other than how perfect your life is right now, Ava? When did you last stop to talk to me because you wanted to see how I am? It’s always about you. Your dramas, your issues, your problems. And then the moment they clear up, the moment your white knight swoops in and rescues you from the life you spent months complaining to me about, then we barely see each other. I’m tired of it. I’m not interested anymore.”

  “I—” I start, but I don’t have anything to say. For the second time tonight, I’m at a total loss for words.

  “I’ve got an exam tomorrow. That’s why I’m busy. Which you would’ve known, if you’d talked to me at all this week. An exam I’m probably going to fail, since I spent the last three months focused on your life instead of my own. When was the last time you even asked how that was going? Ugh, never mind. I have to go.”

  She hangs up. Just like that, the line goes dead, and I’m left staring at it in horror.

  This time I do put my fist against my mouth, barely breathing as I try to process it all. Vicki has never…she’s never…

  She’s always been there for me. Always.

  I don’t try to fight the tears that slip down my cheeks as I tuck my legs under me and start rocking, just a bit, struggling to breathe.

  It’s always about you.

  Your dramas, your issues, your problems.

  Don’t tell me you’ve tricked someone else into supporting you.

  Poor guy.

  Poor guy. Poor guy. Poor guy.

  Jackson’s words hit me hard, but he’s a dick. I didn’t believe them, not really. I didn’t think that was actually what I was like. I just needed to hear that from someone else too.

  But Vicki? My best friend?

  Everything she said drives straight into me, twists me up from the inside and I cry out as it just confirms everything Jackson insinuated. Everything he thought about me. Everything he said when we broke up.

  How could she say all that?

  I collapse against the couch, sobbing and broken and desolate that I’ve managed to drive away the one person who has always been there for me.

  First Jackson. Now Vicki.

  Then Damien.

  She’s right. It’s always been about me.

  And my ability to ruin everything I touch.

  I’m such a bitch.

  Selfish, careless, insensitive.

  Poor guy.

  Poor Vicki.

  Poor Damien.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Damien

  I walk into the apartment with a smile and a bouquet of flowers.

  I’ve been avoiding buying them because I don’t want anyone asking questions, but I’ve also wanted Ava to have them ever since I found her this apartment. That, and I know she’s talking to her parents today, so…

  I stop the moment I hear the wailing from further on in the apartment.

  The flowers fall to the floor as I rush forward, my mind spinning at a mile-a-minute pace as I try to think what might be wrong.

  Not the baby. Please not the baby. Don’t be the baby.

  “Ava?” I call out, the concern punctuating my voice, making it sharper.

  I don’t get a response but I find her on the couch a few moments later.

  “Ava, what’s wrong? What’s happened?”

  I rush over to the couch, sinking to the ground so I can try and peer at the face she’s hiding under riotous hair and behind her arms, buried against the couch. My heart twists at the sight of her.

  “Hey, it’s okay, I’m here.”

  I reach out to her shoulder, but she twists away from me and the rejection there pierces me.

  “What’s wrong?” I murmur again. “Ava, please, look at me. Has something happened?”

  I reach out again anyway, unable to do anything else at the wracking sobs shaking her body. All I want is to do something - to find out what’s caused this and fix it somehow. I can’t bear to see her so distraught.

  I lever myself onto the couch and then pull her over to me, gathering her up in my arms.

  “No—” She tries to fight me briefly, but there’s no strength in her, and I ignore the attempt.

  “I’m here, Ava. I’m here for you. I’m not leaving.”

  I don’t know what’s wrong - hell, I don’t know whether it’s me - but whatever it is, we’re going to deal with it together. We’re a family now. She might not quite be there yet, she might n
ot have realized it - but we are.

  I hold her against me until she stops writhing and trying to get away, even if she’s still shaking her head and mumbling ‘no’, her body ending up sprawled over my lap and collapsed against my chest. I rub her back the way I wanted to and just continue to tell her that I’m here and we’re going to deal with this.

  My heart is beating hard in my chest and I’ve got hot-and-cold chills running through my blood as I try not to let my mind spin out of control with what might be wrong here.

  Whatever it is, we’ll sort it. Together.

  After a few moments, her body relaxes against me just a little bit, but she’s still mumbling ‘no’. I kiss her forehead, then all along the top of her head, wanting nothing more than to make her feel better somehow.

  “Did…something happen with your parents?” I ask at last, murmuring it softly.

  I can’t stop the trying to work it out mindset entirely.

  She shakes her head against me, then squeezes her arms tighter around me. That’s something, at least. She’s not this upset with me.

  “No…” She says after a moment, gasping around the sobs. “Not them.”

  “Who?” I ask, needing to know.

  She shudders in my arms, but finally looks up at me. The pain and hurt I see there breaks my heart, and it’s all I can do not to clutch her to me and tell her I’m never letting her go again.

  Or that I want to hurt whoever did this just as much as they’ve hurt her.

  That also seems like a bad idea, however strong the red-hot urge running through me is.

  She gasps again, sobbing and clinging to me, but what comes out isn’t any kind of explanation of what happened.

  “Do you hate me?”

  “What?!”

  I can’t help it. I don’t even soften my response, the word exploding out of me. Where did that come from?!

  “Am I…do you think…am I…just using you?”

  “What?” I repeat, staring down at her bowed head, then everything in me chills. “Who said that, Ava?”

  She shakes her head. “It’s stupid, but…look at me. I had nothing, and now—now—you have to—to—support me—and—”

  “Ava.” I say firmly, pulling her even closer to me and wrapping my arms tight around her. “I want to give you everything. I want you to have everything. You mean…more than I can ever say. You’re the most amazing, beautiful woman I’ve ever known and you’re carrying my baby—”