Baby By The Billionaire - A Standalone Alpha Billionaire Secret Baby Romance (New York City Billionaires - Book #3)

by Alexa Davis

  “I guess this past year has been more down than up. But don’t worry about me. One day, I’ll be happy and safe, and sure of food getting on the table, and you’ll know I made it, because I’ll look like a beached whale.” I chuckled and squeezed her breast.

  “Going to have to toss that Thai downstairs. It’s probably turned lethal from sitting out. Let’s go get a beer and pretend that we’re not worried about screwing up each other’s lives, since we don’t have Olivia or Kennedy to rush home to.”

  “It has been a long time since I kicked your ass at pool.”

  “There is that, also. So, how about it? One last night of freedom, no worries about the will, or whatever her name is, or your business. Then tomorrow, we’ll start with your work, and end with the will.” I kissed her neck and breathed her in. “I’d planned to impress you with my worldly tastes, but I think you’re going to have to settle for pizza and beer.”

  “Those are your favorites,” she laughed.

  “But they’re not yours.”

  “I have worked up a pizza and beer appetite, though.” She slid out of my lap and disappeared into the bathroom. I heard the shower come on and moved to join her, but stopped myself at the door. If she wanted me she’d have invited me. But the thought of her in there, soapy and naked, was almost more than I could stand.

  When she came out, wrapped in a bath sheet with a towel wrapped around her head like a turban, I traded places with her and rushed through a quick shower. It might not have been the most romantic or swanky idea I’d ever had, but it was casual enough that she wouldn’t freak out on me, so, by the grace of God, we were getting our first date. I remembered the way she felt on me, the way her body fit so perfectly with mine when I held her. She was every woman to me, soft in all the right ways, sexier than she had a right to be and stronger than I thought Andrew had bothered to notice.

  I forced myself to stop thinking about Libby long enough to finish my shower and dressed in the bathroom in the clothes Libby had left, folded, on the counter. She was dressed in tight jeans and a tank top, and her hair was slicked back in a ponytail that fell between her shoulder blades in long, wet line. I did my best to ignore the all-to-familiar tightening of my jeans as my body reacted to her natural beauty. With no makeup, she looked younger, more carefree, and I loved it. I escorted her to the car, with her hand on my arm. She gave me directions and we headed out, her smiling and relaxed, me wound tight as a spring and hoping she couldn’t tell.

  My Exe’s Bar wasn’t exactly a dive, but it was close. It was the locals-only hangout, and it was wall to wall people. We managed to catch a high-top table as its occupants cleared out, and a perky young waitress shot us a smile to let us know we’d been seen. I handed Libby a menu from the center of the table, and looked around the room. There were familiar faces, but no one I knew, until I felt someone watching me, and looked around to see Libby’s neighbor from the pool. He was standing against one of the columns that separated the high-tops and booths from the pool tables and air hockey in the back.

  He tipped his beer to me, and I looked away, my jaw clenched so hard it hurt. Libby was chatting away with a pretty girl with dyed purple hair and a nose piercing, and Libby invited her to sit with us while they caught up about their kids and work.

  “Speaking of work, did I hear you’re a stylist?” I asked, shooting Libby a quick look. She picked up on my intention and colored instantly. “Did Libby tell you she’s an amazing graphic artist?” I asked, and she shook her head.

  “What kind of work do you do Libby? Honestly, you weren’t doing anything last time you came in.” She reached out for Libby’s hand. “You were still in kind of a bad place, I figured you were taking a break, before you got back into the world,” she said, giving me a knowing look that made my face heat up. Libby smiled at her and deflected her by waving to the waitress and flagging her down.

  She ordered food and I added a pitcher of beer and a twenty for quarters, so we could play pool or a little air hockey. Her pierced friend called over to a burly guy wearing a sleeveless plaid work shirt and a trucker hat.

  “Well, I didn’t see that coming,” I teased as she skipped back over to her friends and the big guy.

  “Oh stop. They’re adorable.” She laughed and punched me in the arm. I shot a glance back over at the young couple, hanging all over each other, making out in the middle of the bar.

  “Are we too old for that?” I nodded towards them.

  “Only in public,” she laughed. “I think they would’ve been impressed by our couch gymnastics.” I choked on the peanut I’d just tossed into my mouth, and she pounded my back, laughing.

  “Oh, God. Oh. I do not know what to make of you, Libby Garcia Peele.”

  “Look Tucker, if you aren’t trying to force me into the background of my own life, I can be kind of fun.”

  “You are a lot of fun.” A beer appeared at my elbow and I nodded my thanks the hand that had set it down. Libby glanced at the person behind me and smiled and nodded. I looked up, and it was the same guy who’d been watching us when we walked in the door.

  “Sam, hi! Thanks for the beers, but we had a pitcher coming,” she grinned and lifted her pint in a salute. He sat down in the empty chair at the table and scooted closer to her, and turned his back to me. I fought to keep my cool, but I could feel the muscles in my jaw tense, and when I looked down, my hands were fisted so hard my knuckles were white. Libby glanced at me, and then at the table. A second later, she gave a quick, humorless smile and got up to use the ladies’ room. I watched her neighbor as stared after her.

  “Is there something you wanted?” I asked, barely keeping my voice calm.

  “Just being neighborly,” he replied, finally glancing my way. “You’re not drinking your beer.” I smirked and rotated the pint glass in my hands.

  “Not all that thirsty, all of the sudden. Maybe you should take it to someone who wants your company.” He grinned, but it didn’t touch his eyes.

  “Libby seems to like my company just fine. Or do you think your suit is going to tip the scales in your favor?”

  “I don’t much care whether Libby likes you or not. I don’t—and tonight, she’s with me. I’m sure you’d want the same courtesy, if our positions were reversed.” He pursed his lips and nodded.

  “Guess I would.” He got up from the seat and started to walk away. “I really thought I was gonna get to beat you down tonight, Suit.” He tipped his hat and grabbed the full beer that was still in front of me, with a wink.

  “Then you made the smart choice walking away. Because no one’s ever got the best of me yet. Don’t let the suit fool you, cowboy.” He nodded and sauntered off, and I took a deep breath and unclenched my hands, staring down at the little moon shapes I’d dug into my palms with my fingernails. The cute little waitress set down my pitcher of beer and a couple of frosty mugs.

  “Your food’s on the way.” I nodded and glanced toward the restrooms, wondering how long Libby would hide in there before coming back. I poured myself a beer and slid the pitcher to one side as the food showed up, laughing at the sheer quantity she’d ordered.

  “Is this the whole menu?” I asked, as another plate was slid onto the table.

  “Oh, no sir, she asked for only half at a time. So, we’ll bring the rest out when there’s room.” I laughed, waving my hands over the food like I could magically make it disappear.

  “Room on the table, where I am supposed to put all this to make room on the table?” The busboy laughed.

  “I’d start making friends, sir, you’re gonna need ‘em. Upside is, most people in here will follow you around for a beer or some nachos.” I laughed and waved down the purple haired stylist, pointing at the food and trying to look helpless. By the time Libby returned, we had to squeeze her in next to me, half on my lap, just so she could reach her beer. She gaped at me and I shrugged.

  “I figured you ordered that much, because you wanted it to be a party. So, I invited my friends.” I happen
ed to glance toward the pool hall in the back and the cowboy was still watching us. I nodded and turned back to the bikers sharing my pizza. Lesson learned, I thought to myself, if you want to send a message, say it with leather-clad, studded collar-wearing bikers.

  Chapter Twelve

  Libby

  I had felt bad the second I’d slid the bolt to, on scratched metal stall door. Sam had waltzed over with a smile on his face and beers in his hands, and it hadn’t occurred to me that he was looking for trouble until I saw him put his back to Tucker. I didn’t know what to say to him, so I told him I’d talk to him later and escaped. When I finally returned, not only was there no blood on the floor, but Tucker, introverted almost to the point of being shy, was sharing the massive amount of food I’d ordered with Isabelle, her husband, and his motorcycle club.

  I’d glanced toward the back room to see if Sam was still there, and he’d seen me, and tipped his hat. It made my stomach flutter, but I wasn’t sure if it was fear or attraction that I was reacting with. I had squeezed myself in next to Tucker, as he regaled the table with stories from the ranch, and I saw him differently than I ever had before.

  He was laughing and easy-going, as always, but when he spoke of his childhood home, he lit up like I’d never realized he could. Between him and his brothers, there were enough shenanigans to tell stories all night, and he made them come to life as he spoke, bringing tears to the eyes of burly, hardened bikers from laughing so hard, and then again later, when he shared with them the day his own stallion, Denny, had slid down a hill that had become unstable from flood washout. He smiled throughout, but pressed as close to him as I was, I felt his body sag, under a weight no one else could see but him.

  No sooner did the food disappear from the table, and another wave was brought out, and Tucker glared at me. I reminded him that he was a single, well-paid attorney, and could afford one night of pleasing the locals, although in truth, I was disappointed that the bacon cheddar fries had gone so fast. I’d just learned a recipe for a dip called fry sauce from a friend, and I wanted to try it once, before I banned it from my “allowed foods” list, forever.

  One we’d gotten ahead of the food I’d ordered, and given most of it away to other patrons, it appeared that Sam had left, and we could play pool. The entire bar had fallen in love with Tucker, who I didn’t think had seen that much rapt attention, outside the courtroom, in his entire life. I glance around the pool hall, and when I looked up at him, Tucker was doing the same.

  “I think it’s safe. Want to play?” I asked, and he looked at me, guilt in his eyes.

  “I didn’t mean anything by not wanting to hang out with your friend. But you might want to teach him some manners, if he’s gonna come back.” His back was stiff, and I could see the ice in his eyes as he scanned the room one more time, before he escorted me to a free table.

  “He’s not my friend. I only met him for the first time at the pool, same as you,” I chided. I tried to squash the resentment that made me want to smack him in the arm and tell him to grow up.

  “That explains why you abandoned me to him.”

  “I am sorry about that. He was acting like he wanted a fight, and I decided maybe if I left, he would, too.” I sighed, and played with my pool cue, looking anywhere but his disappointed face.

  “Well, beautiful, I appreciate you trying to prevent trouble. But I know how to use my words, right?” He complained, and I scoffed at him.

  “You mean like that one time, back in college? Do you even remember? It was graduation, and that one moron, ummm,”

  “Jeff Gardner,” he offered.

  “Oh, my God, yes. That’s the one, Jeff Gardner, tried to feel me up under my robe, and offered me a chance to find out first hand that he was nude under his.” I shook my head, laughing at the memory of Jeff, bare ass-up, his robes over his head, after Tucker had knocked him out with one solid blow to the side of his face.

  “I was defending your honor.”

  “How would a fight tonight been any different?”

  “If I fought him tonight, it would either be because I was stupid and fell for him trying to pick a fight, or to defend my pride. As far as he said, you two are real close, and I’m just poking my nose where it doesn’t belong.” I tapped my manicured nails on the side board of the pool table with a satisfying clicking.

  “Suddenly, I wish I’d stuck around, called him out on his ego trip.” Tucker racked up the balls and stood back for me to break.

  “Nah, it was pretty anticlimactic. I’m sorry you felt like you had to hide from us both; I thought I had myself darn well controlled.”

  “He kind of scares me. Sometimes I see his curtains move when I’m coming or going, and it feels like he’s watching me. But when the hearing is over, hopefully, I can move somewhere I feel more comfortable. Especially now that Shaunte and Dale are building a house on the other side of town.” I broke the set, poorly, and within a couple of plays, it was obvious that Tucker wasn’t as rusty at the game as I was. He won, by a lot, and racked up again to give me a chance to redeem myself.

  It wasn’t until halfway through the second game, that I realized Tucker had stopped paying attention to the game completely. I glanced in the direction he was staring, and there was Sam, his cowboy hat standing out among the ocean of trucker caps and bandanas most of the crowd here wore.

  Tucker excused himself, and disappeared into the crowd that was gathering as the live music started in the other section of the bar. I took my shot, and stood with my back against the wall. I felt wary and out of place once Tucker wasn’t with me, and my pulse raced and my chest squeezed down on my lungs in a vise grip. Looking around, I couldn’t see the cowboy hat, and some of the stiffness bled out of my shoulders.

  Sam was hot, built, and attentive, but with him lurking in the corners and watching them, and after what he’d said to Tucker, I’d lost any curiosity I had harbored about him. He just seemed too interested, like he was one of those obsessive types that branded their girlfriends and stalked their exes. The thought made me shudder

  I started looking for Tucker again, wondering where he’d gone to, when my spine began to itch, right between my shoulder blades, like I was being watched. I spun around and bit off a squeal as Sam reach out for me, lunging backward and painfully banging my back against the pool table. Before I could speak, or get further out of reach, Tucker slammed his shoulder into Sam and they both pitched to the side.

  “Tucker!” I stumbled over their tangled legs as I tried to pry Tucker off Sam before a bouncer showed up, but a pair of hands picked me up and lifted me out of the way as another squeak escaped me. Connor set me down to one side and Isabelle put her arms around me like she was shielding me from danger. He grabbed Tucker, and pulled him to one side, and then Sam disappeared. I saw him helped to a standing position, then he was just gone, as Connor and Isabelle’s friends surrounded him and ushered him out of the bar.

  A meaty guy, with impossibly broad shoulders and no visible neck, came back to check on us. He’d heard there was a disturbance, but without evidence of a fight, all he did was warn us to watch ourselves, because he would be. I released the breath I’d been holding when he stomped off and hugged Isabelle and Connor in turn.

  “Hey, we saw him sneaking around, and Izzy said you told her he made you nervous, so when Tucker here asked if we’d seen him, we started looking around.” He pointed at a skinny guy in a hunter-orange vest, who nodded and crushed his trucker hat in his hands. “Tom over there, he spotted him and held off the bouncer for a sec, so we could help out.” Tom nodded again, blushing, until even the tips of his ears were red.

  “It was nothing. I just stayed out of your man’s way, that’s all.” I opened my mouth to argue, but them thinking I was Tucker’s woman was the least of my worries. We gathered our things and closed the tab. Connor and Tom headed out to look around before we left, just to make sure we didn’t run into Sam again without the benefit of backup. I thanked Isabelle and Tucker stopped and
talked to Connor, but we didn’t speak to each other until we were alone in the car. Tucker was the first to voice his concern about my proximity to the guy who almost seemed to be stalking me, or at least had a very skewed idea of how to get a girl’s attention.

  “I am suddenly very uncomfortable with the idea of you staying at your townhouse alone with Olivia,” he began, while I stared at the bright spot on the road ahead of us, directly in the beam of light from his headlights.

  “Well, what else would you suggest? I’m certainly not moving into your place,” I countered. I wanted to get out and walk home, I was so fed up with being manipulated by men who thought I owed them something.

  “That was never on the table, but thank you for clearing up your position on it,” he drawled. I saw him roll his eyes before he continued. “I was thinking you might want to spend a few days out at Lago Colina, with or without me.” I felt the fight rain out of me at the suggestion, and I looked out the window as I considered it.

  “I don’t know. You’re the only one really worried about him. He’s just a guy who probably isn’t used to hearing ‘no.’ You keep talking about him like he’s that creepy troll who can’t get a date, and he’s stalking me because it’s the only way to get close to me.”

  “Could he get close to you?” I stared at him and he shrugged, glancing at me from time to time as he navigated the dark surface roads back to my place.

  “I’m not afraid of him, and I’m not afraid of you. But the two of you beating your chests and fighting like animals? That was pretty scary to me.”

  “Trust me. You take Olivia to see the horses, and it will be all better when you get back.”

  “Okay, Tucker.” I paused, then continued even though I was afraid it would make things worse between us, the words pouring out of my mouth despite my brain begging me to stop. “Andrew would have blamed me first, then grounded me—and after that, he would’ve spent a month judging everything I wore or said as being suggestive or acting like a slut.” Tucker barked out a mirthless laugh.