The Good Twin's Baby: A Billionaire Baby Contract Romance

by Vivien Vale

  Gently, I graze a hand over her head, trailing my fingertips through her hair until they become intertwined with the wispy, delicate strands.

  She stirs, but doesn’t rouse quite yet. Sighing contentedly, she rolls over in the bed―but her eyes don’t open.

  “Rose?” I lightly tug at her shoulder. “Rose?”

  “Mmm?” She grins in her sleep. “Daniel, is that you?”

  “It’s me,” I tell her, not whispering any longer because I want to get this over with.

  She opens her eyes and blinks, furrowing her brow in confusion. Then, she reaches up for me and gives me a sexy little smile.

  “What are you doing out of bed and all the way up there?” she whispers seductively and licks her lips.

  Damn, she’s sultry, and her beckoning is really swaying me here.

  There’s nothing I love more in this world than a horny woman who’s just woken up from a tender sleep.

  Something about her smell, her taste, and the softness of her skin entices me as she glows with radiance under the sheets.

  My sheets.

  I really fucking love seeing her in my bed. I could get used to that.

  I squeeze my eyes shut and shake my head, trying to distract myself with the thought of my mother rifling through my kitchen for gadgets.

  “Daniel?”

  I open my eyes at the sound of Rose’s alarmed voice. She props herself up on her elbows and stares at me with guarded caution.

  “What is it? Why aren’t you coming back to bed? What time is it?”

  Her voice sounds suspicious and frantic, so I ease myself slowly to a sitting position beside her on the bed. I take her hands in mine, cupping them together to cradle them.

  “There’s nothing wrong,” I reassure her and give her a warm, genuine smile.

  Rose’s shoulders sag in visible relief. “Okay.” She grins and bites her lip again, moving her legs in the bed. “Is it early still?”

  “That depends.” I laugh nervously. “Is ten o’clock in the morning too early to have breakfast?”

  Rose giggles, giving me an inspecting glance. “What is up with you today?”

  I heave a dramatic sigh and decide to just rip off the Band-Aid, right then and there.

  “Well…” I chuckle. “I have a confession to make.”

  Rose pretends to be freaked out. “Oh, god. Not another confession.”

  I playfully give her a little nudge, to which she responds with a fit of giggles, withering around in the sheets and squealing with delight as if I’m tickling her to death.

  “Shh…” I hold her down.

  She brushes the hair off her face and glances around with suspicion.

  “What’s going on, Daniel?” This time, her voice is firmer than before, demanding.

  “Okay, look,” I say, with a gesture to the bedroom door. “My mom is here, and she’s cooked us breakfast.”

  The look on her face is exactly how I feel: Oh, shit.

  Yeah, fucking tell me about it.

  Rose

  Okay, now he has my attention―but not quite in the best way possible. I jolt up in bed, sitting up in a lurch. I expel a nervous laugh, a sound almost unrecognizable to my ears.

  “Um…what?” I ask, needing confirmation that I’m not still dreaming. I’m trying not to freak out, but I’m shocked for sure.

  I feel sorry for Daniel. He looks downright freaked out, and his face is stark white like the sheets underneath me.

  “I’m so sorry…” He trails off.

  I exhale sharply and brush the hair off my cheek, giving him a smile and a reassuring nod.

  “It’s okay…really.”

  “Wow.” Daniel looks amazed.

  “Wow what?” I laugh and scratch my elbow, feeling awkward and waiting for instructions on what I should do next.

  Daniel shakes his head and disbelief and glances at my knees with a smile. “Nothing, it’s just…wow…you are completely fucking amazing.”

  I stroke his cheek. “What makes you say that?”

  “I just told you my mom let herself in and is helping herself to my kitchen to prepare a full on feast for us, and you aren’t even upset.” Daniel glances at me as if I’m his new hero.

  I just laugh, taking it all in stride. “Well, you didn’t exactly tell me that she let herself in.”

  Daniel feigns sheepishness and rubs the thick hair on his head. “Did I forget to mention that?” he jokes.

  “Oh, stop it.” I laugh and tease him by tossing the pillow behind my back at him.

  Inside my head, though, the fact that his mother has a key and traipses around whenever she pleases is slightly unnerving, but I choose to keep that information to myself because Daniel looks stressed out enough as it is right now.

  “So…” he grins as if he’s getting ready to ask a huge favor for which he’ll be forever in my debt.

  “Just go ahead and spit it out.” I sigh, appeasing him with a roll of my eyes.

  Daniel pats my knee. “You are so fucking great.”

  “So, let me guess, we need to go and eat what she’s cooked for us?” I grin with a twinkle in my eye.

  “Pretty much, yeah,” Daniel says.

  “Looks like there’s more than one pussy in this room,” I tease him with a wink.

  “Oh, now you’re going to get it for that one, missy.” Daniel picks me up by the hips and throws me back down playfully, holding me down as he tickles me, making me giggle and shriek.

  “Stop it,” I demand and thrash around, laughing.

  He finally lets me go, and we’re both panting―and hungry. I can smell bacon seeping under the door, the scent wafting down the hall from the kitchen.

  I throw the blankets off my naked body and pull a modest pink t-shirt over my head and the same jeans I wore the night before.

  “Are you ready to get this over with?” Daniel casts me a grin as he jumps into a pair of shorts and throws a black t-shirt over his head that reads ‘Brooklyn Nets’.

  “Not quite yet.” I laugh as if he’s insane. “I need to brush my teeth and brush my hair, not to mention blot on some foundation.”

  “You don’t have to do all that.” Daniel waves his hand dismissively. “It’s just Mom.”

  I clear my throat and raise an eyebrow at him. “Um, are you kidding?”

  “What?” He laughs, adorably clueless.

  “Correction,” I tell him. “She’s your mom, not mine. I need to look presentable for her.”

  Daniel strolls over to my side and wraps his arms around my waist. We sway back and forth as if we’re at a junior prom dance or something, grinning at each other with giddy expressions.

  “I think you’re already gorgeous,” he whispers as he tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear.

  “Thanks, but I’m still not convinced I don’t need to at least run a comb through my hair,” I tell him and swat him away.

  I run to the bathroom to get mildly presentable and then follow Daniel to his kitchen where my heart beats with frantic anxiety.

  When we get to the kitchen, Daniel’s mother is wearing a floral print apron (where it came from, I have no fucking idea), and she’s pouring orange juice into tall glasses that sit on the kitchen table.

  “Wow, Mom, you really went all out this time,” Daniel says.

  This time? So, does that mean this happens often?

  I plant a polite smile on my face and wait for introductions. Once we get that over with, his mom beams at us, instructing me and Daniel to sit down and enjoy the lavish spread she’s presenting.

  “Everything looks delicious,” I tell her.

  Daniel’s mom has been grinning ear-to-ear ever since we walked in the room. Normally, I would find this sort of behavior unnatural and fake, but there’s nothing about Daniel’s mom that seems like she’s faking it right now. She seems lighthearted and genuinely fun.

  No wonder he gave her a key with unlimited access to his life.

  I bite into the most decadently fluffy
mountain of pancakes that I’ve ever seen in my life. They literally melt in my mouth, and I groan with approval.

  “Oh, my goodness,” I swallow the amazing bite and dab my mouth with the napkin in my lap. “These are phenomenal.”

  “Truly outstanding, Mom.” Daniel smiles and raises his glass for me to do a toast with him.

  “Seriously,” I say and cut into a piece of sausage, dipping it into a pond of syrup on my plate. “Can you do this for me every day?” I joke and glance at Daniel who tosses me a flirtatious wink.

  “Sweetie, you just sit back and relax, eat to your heart’s content, and I’ll take care of everything.” She pats my shoulder with amusement.

  “Thank you,” I say and continue to dive in, gobbling the food down just as she’s instructing.

  “So…” she begins. “What’s your name?”

  She means no harm by the question. I know she’s just making polite and friendly conversation. Even still, I involuntarily tense up and toss a subtle glance at Daniel who coaxes me along with a nod.

  “Um…” I clear my throat and wipe my mouth on the napkin again. “I’m Rose.” I smile up at her with a mouthful of food, feeling embarrassed.

  “Rose,” his mom says as she closes the fridge behind us and walks back over to the table. “I like that name. Very classic. A beauty, just like you.”

  I blush at her compliment and bow my head. “Thank you.”

  “How did you two meet each other? What’s the story there?” She looks between us, and I imagine that the question is up for grabs.

  I’ll let Daniel cover this one.

  “Mom,” he says and casually points the fork in his hand in my direction. “You remember Rose.”

  His mom glances at me with a furrowed brow, investigating me while she tries to rack her memory. “I do?”

  “Yeah…” he says. “Well, you remember me telling you about her, anyway.” He laughs and takes a bite of egg. “She’s the one I met at the tea shop.”

  He told her about me? I feel my chest swell, knowing that he’s been talking about me to his mother.

  “Oh right.” She flicks her forehead as if she’s a scatterbrain.

  “How long have you two been together?” She eyes me, and I know this one is directed at me, so I have no choice but to answer.

  I shift uncomfortably in my seat, but try to make the act as subtle as possible. “Um…one month.”

  Regardless of all the answers, his mom seems positively delighted. “Well,” she states and sits down next to me, “I have to say it’s such a pleasure to meet you, Rose. I just hate that it’s under these circumstances.”

  She gives her son a lecturing glance, and he shrugs with a grin.

  “It’s lovely to meet you, too,” I say shyly and look down at my plate which is now swimming in syrup.

  “I do genuinely apologize,” she says again and places a heartfelt hand to her chest. “I show up unannounced sometimes, and that gets on Daniel’s nerves.”

  “It’s really fine.” I dismiss her apology politely with a wave of my hand.

  “I usually try to drop by when I most suspect that Daniel won’t have anyone with him,” she explains. “Ah, well.” She claps her hands together and makes me jump. “I thought I’d make the best of a sticky situation,” she laughs.

  “No pun intended, eh, Ma?” Daniel chuckles and points his knife to his plate that’s also drowning in syrup.

  “Oh, you kids just eat and don’t fuss over me.” She waves a hand at all the food and stands up again to clear some of the empty dishes off the table.

  I eat as much as I can, under the circumstances, because let’s face it…I’m nervous as hell.

  This isn’t exactly the way I wanted to meet Daniel’s mother. I haven’t even showered yet. Internally, I struggle with self-doubt.

  What if his mom is just being polite? What if she really thinks I’m a whore and I should leave her son alone?

  It’s an answer I want to know but have no true way to ask.

  Once we finish eating, Daniel stretches and yawns, rubbing his full belly. He has all but recovered from the awkwardness.

  I just roll my eyes. It’s a typical male thing to do. As soon as their mommies come around with food, they become different people.

  They’re all the same, but I just brush it off in my head. He’s perfect in so many other ways, and besides, he’s just…well, normal, actually. It’s nice to see that.

  Daniel brings his plate to the kitchen along with mine. “Thank you for that amazing breakfast, Mom,” he tells her gratefully and plants a kiss on her forehead. “You outdid yourself this time.”

  “Darling, it was nothing…and my pleasure.” She squeezes him into a gentle hug.

  “Well, I hate to kick you out,” he laughs, “but we have to get ready for work now.”

  “Oh, right,” his mom says as she continues to wash up and load the dishwasher.

  As she finishes up and grabs her bag, I walk over to say goodbye. “It was so nice to meet you,” I tell her.

  She’s still smiling as she addresses her son. “Daniel, you should join us for dinner.”

  Daniel looks at me first. I just shrug because I don’t want to come across as rude.

  “Yes!” his mother exclaims as if she’s just proclaimed the most elaborately seamless plan ever. “Bring her over to the house. That way, she can meet the family, too.”

  Daniel’s eyes widen in horror, but he nods, knowing there’s no way out of this one.

  “Sure,” I tell her with a smile. “That sounds wonderful. Count us in.”

  Daniel’s shoulders relax slightly. I don’t mind coming to his rescue once in a while. Besides, he’s already been a champ and met my family. Maybe it’s time for me to return the favor and oblige him with a meeting of his own kind.

  After all, if he’s going to be the father of my baby, might as well be on good terms with the grandparents.

  Daniel

  I slam the phone down and swear under my breath. Since arriving at the office, I’ve been stuck with the receiver to my ear.

  The back of my neck is aching, as are my shoulders. Every time I complain about this, my secretary gives me no sympathy.

  She suggested ages ago that I get one of those headsets to save myself from the cramps I get from squeezing the phone between my head and my shoulder, but I cannot imagine anything worse than having a phone permanently stuck to my ear.

  And so I continue to suffer.

  I’ve barely finished the last call to the general manager of one of my resorts when the blasted thing rings again.

  “Hello,” I bark into it, sounding as angry as I feel.

  Right now, I curse the person who invented the damn thing. I mean, as far I’m concerned, life would be a whole lot easier if I could spend less time on the phone.

  Perhaps I could disable it? My eyes fall on to the cell phone lying on my desk with three missed calls and eight text messages.

  I roll my eyes.

  Perhaps the indicator of how the day was going to pan out had been Mom arriving unannounced and uninvited at my apartment this morning.

  Of course, she’s done it before, many a time, just not ever when I’ve had a woman stay the night.

  This might be due to the fact I rarely have a woman stay over. Most of the casual hook-ups don’t make it back home with me. There’s no way I want them to get too fucking comfortable.

  I mean, once I take a girl home, she might get fucking difficult to get rid of again. I’ve heard the horror stories, read the outlandish claims online.

  I’m not falling victim to some gold-digging chick. Nope, not me.

  “Oh,” I hear my mother’s voice and regret sounding so harsh. “I thought you’d be over the moon.”

  I frown. “Why?”

  What is she getting at? Does she know something I don’t?

  I hear Mom sigh. I hate it when she’s cryptic.

  “Did you and Rose have a fight, dear? You seemed to be getting along
fabulously this morning…” She drifts off.

  Am I standing on the line or something? What the fuck is my mother talking about now?

  “Um, why would we have had a fight? Did she say something to you?”

  My mother laughs. “No, sweetheart, she didn’t say anything to me. You both looked happy and relaxed in each other’s company. I’m surprised the afterglow hasn’t lasted all day with you.”

  I sigh. Fucking awkward.

  “Tough day in the office, Mom,” I grumble and look at my too weak, too lukewarm pretend double shot flat white. When my assistant brought it in to me, I asked what she calls this.

  “The coffee you ordered,” she replied and was gone before I could say anything else. Without actually tasting it, I know it’s going to be fucking awful. It looks like dishwashing water.

  A coffee bean might have walked past it, but that is incredibly doubtful. How shops get away with selling this shit as coffee is beyond me.

  Mental note to self—make sure office staff never ever buys coffee from where this one came from again, ever.

  “Oh, that’s a shame, darling.” My mother is happily prattling away in my ear. She’ll be happy if she hears the occasional grunt, yep, or nope. I think my mother could talk under wet cement or water.

  “Daniel, are you listening to me?”

  Fuck. What did she ask?

  “Sorry, Mom,” I mumble. “Had to answer a question from my assistant,” I lie.

  “I asked if you like this girl,” Mom repeats her question.

  I frown. “Which girl?”

  After only two sips, I know this poor excuse for a cup of coffee is undrinkable. As soon as I can, I’m going to have to get someone to get me something better than this crap.

  If there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s drinking bad coffee. Life is too short to drink anything but strong, good quality coffee.

  “Do you like Rose?” My mother repeats her question yet again. “Really, Daniel, I don’t know what’s the matter with you today.”

  Interesting question. Do I like Rose?

  I love to fuck her.

  I like her scent, the perfume she uses, and those eyes.

  I like the way she jokes with me and looks at me.