Christmas Baby For The Billionaire

“No. But we always put the lights up and a lit tree out here. It looks nice from the beach and also from the dining room.”

He clapped his hands together for warmth. “You mean we still have to do a tree?”

“What’s the matter, not used to the cold?”

New York got plenty cold in the winter, but the icy wind off the ocean was going right through him today. When he didn’t answer right away, she laughed—a soft, musical sound that suddenly made him feel lighter. “Your ears are pink. We’d better get you inside. Don’t worry, we set up the tree inside and then move it out. Thanks for your help, though. My fingers appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome.” Despite the cold, it had been kind of fun.

She looked at her watch. “It’s nearly noon. Do you want to come in for some lunch? Or do you have appointments?”

He shrugged. “I don’t have an appointment until two, so I have an hour to spare.”

She opened the door that led from the deck to the dining room. “Our chef, Neil, does a curried carrot and ginger soup that is amazing. Definitely cold-weather comfort food.”

They went inside and he watched as Tori went to the bar and spoke to the server behind the counter. When she came back, she led them to a table near the fireplace and hung her jacket over a chair. “Phew,” she said, sitting down. “I’m not going to lie, that fire feels wonderful.”

There were a handful of guests in the dining room, but it was otherwise quiet. “Not your busy time of year, huh?”

She shook her head as he took the chair opposite her. “No. The weekends are busier. People out for dinner, and our Sunday brunch is amazing.” She looked up, and he got caught in her eyes again. Today her hazel eyes looked more green than brown, and her thick lashes made them seem bigger. He wondered if their baby would have her eyes.

“I’ll have to try it while I’m here.”

He sat back when the waitress came over with a basket of warm rolls and pats of butter. “Your lunch will be right out, Ms. Sharpe.”

“Thank you, Ellen.”

Tori looked up at him, a smile on her lips. “You warming up yet? Your ears aren’t quite so pink.”

He chuckled a little, his gaze stuck on her lips. Just his luck he couldn’t quite forget kissing them. There could be none of that now. “The fire is helping. The wind is so bitter today.”

“So why were you walking the beach?” she asked, picking up a roll and breaking it in half.

“Thinking,” he replied, meeting her gaze. “I had a lot to think about.”

“And did you come to any conclusions?”

Her voice was calm, but he could see a tightening around her mouth. She was nervous about this, too. It gave him a little comfort. The lives they’d both built—separately—were about to be disrupted.

“A few,” he admitted. “But I’m not sure you’re ready to hear them.”

CHAPTER THREE (#ue0c63d72-1cf0-564c-9dd9-e281c4ce9126)

UNEASE SETTLED THROUGH HER, making her limbs feel heavy and her breath short. This was never going to be easy, but despite all the thinking she’d been doing the last twenty-four hours, she felt ill-prepared for whatever was going to come out of his mouth next.

She nibbled on a corner of the roll, though her appetite was diminishing rapidly. “Oh?” she asked, keeping her voice deceptively light.

He met her gaze and held it. “One thing is for sure, Tori—I can’t go back to New York and pretend that this isn’t happening. I’m going to be a father. I’m not going to abandon you or my child.”

Tears stung her eyes and she looked down at the napkin in her lap. It was lovely to know that he accepted the pregnancy and wanted to be a part of their baby’s life. But it stung that they were no more than an obligation to him; that he was tied to them out of duty and DNA and not affection.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“And whatever you need, you only have to ask. You need to know I’m willing and able to support you financially.”

Financially. She clenched her fingers into fists under the table.

“Tori?”

She’d been silent so long he reached over and touched her arm, prompting her to look up. She took a deep breath, met his gaze and said quite clearly, “Thank you, Jeremy. But I’m quite able to provide for us.”

His expression grew puzzled as his brows knit together. “Then what do you want from me?”

“Honestly? I don’t know. Time, I suppose. To figure this out.”

He looked at her tummy and then back to her face, and a hint of a smile quirked at the corner of his lips. “Well, we are on a bit of a ticking clock, don’t you think? And it’s halfway to midnight.”

She raised her eyebrow in response. “I’m hardly Cinderella. Or a damsel in distress that needs rescuing.”

At that moment their lunch was served; piping-hot bowls of soup along with bacon-and-avocado paninis that seemed to satisfy some sort of craving of Tori’s right now.

“This smells delicious.”

“It is. I’m kind of addicted to these sandwiches. I’m not sure if it’s the avocado or the bacon that the baby likes so much, but it’s my favorite.”

They ate in silence for a few moments, and then Jeremy spoke again. “This feels so weird. Last summer…”

His voice trailed away and Tori’s cheeks heated. Last summer she’d felt about ten years younger and stupidly carefree. Days on the beach, toes in the sand, love in the middle of the day. She’d told herself she deserved a bit of fun, but she’d been careless. They both had.

“Last summer was just…what it was.” She wiped her lips with her napkin and tried to calm the rapid beat of her heart. “We got carried away. We were impulsive, and now there are consequences. We can’t be impulsive this time, Jeremy. We have to make the right decisions.”

“I know.”

She thought of her mom, who was both dismayed at how the pregnancy had occurred and ecstatic about being a grandmother. There were just the two of them now. She was an only child, a bit of a miracle baby, really, since her mother had been told she’d probably never conceive. Her grandparents lived in Newfoundland and she rarely saw them. Her father had died two years earlier. Tori felt a certain responsibility to be there for her mom. Without Tori, Shelley had no family.

She looked at Jeremy. “Do you have brothers and sisters?”

“One of each.”

The topic had never come up during their few weeks of bliss. Now that Tori thought back to those sun-soaked days, she realized that anytime she had gotten close to talking about his family, he’d changed the subject. Even now, he didn’t offer any explanations. Just “one of each.”

“And your parents? Are they both back in New York?”

“My mother is in Connecticut. My father lives in the Virgin Islands. They divorced when I was little.”

He picked up his sandwich and took a bite, but his face was set in a grim expression even as he chewed. Her heart sank a bit. It would be a shame if he wasn’t close with his family. What would that mean for their child?

“Cousins? Favorite aunts and uncles?”