The Billionaire and I (Part Three)

The Billionaire And I: Part Three (A Jacob and Leila Story)

Ava Claire

Copyright © 2015

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The Billionaire and I: Part One—September 11, 2015

The Billionaire and I: Part Two—  September 18, 2015

The Billionaire and I: Part Three—September 25, 2015

Cover by RBA Designs

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E-book License Edition Notes

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Copyright Page

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

About The Author

W
e were having a baby.

"Oh my God," I whispered hoarsely, my hand trembling beneath Jacob's. When I looked up at him and caught the full on smile that was lighting up his face, I kinda forgot about the IV, the hospital bed, and pretty much everything except the need to get in his arms. The machines started beeping wildly and pain sizzled in my arm where the needle was still lodged.

"You just told me our lives have changed forever and I just want to hold you," I pouted, reality keeping me tethered to the ground. I didn't want to be reminded that this news was discovered because I had to be hospitalized. I wanted to stay in this place of shock and awe; where so much love filled me up that I didn't think I'd ever stop smiling.

Jacob swept the curls across my forehead and pressed his lips to my temple. "Scoot over."

I wrenched the handrail up on my right and shimmied my hips over. I raised my eyebrows in amusement as he tried to fit his tall, muscular frame in the tiny space beside me. He couldn't have been remotely comfortable with his feet dangling off the edge and his body folded like an accordion. There wasn't any discomfort to be seen or the clenched teeth annoyance of someone that was just grinning and bearing it. I was pressed against the rail, watching love, excitement, and something else ripple across his face. When he beckoned me to come closer, I bit my lip and made sure he knew what he was signing up for.

"This bed was barely made to fit one person, babe."

"I didn't climb onto this thing to take a nap," he winked. I swear I saw the slightest tremble in his chin. "I'm here because I want to be close to the mother of my children."

My heart surged to my throat as I swooned.
The mother of his children...
"Geez, Jacob. I've barely grasped the fact that I'm pregnant and you're already talking about our white picket fence and 2.5 kids?" I joked.

His face was serious as a heart attack. "2.5? I was thinking more along the lines of six. At least." I must have looked faint because he took my face in his hands, chuckling. "I'm just kidding, Lay.” He returned to stone. “But really...five at least.” When my eyes bulged, he laughed.

I stuck my tongue out at him. "Keep it up and if it's a girl, we're naming her after your mother."

Jacob shuddered. "Cheryl has already let me know that her name is available and she would be honored."

I danced my fingertips through his dark locks, laughing at that. "Of course she did." I snuggled a little closer, remembering how tense the room had been when I woke up. "I think the only thing that was missing was a scantily clad woman holding the round number and boxing gloves." I winced, realizing that her excitement probably had little to do with me being awake and alert, and more about the baby. "Was she really planning on blurting out that I was pregnant?"

Jacob shook his head with a chuckle. "Not if I had anything to say about it. That woman is more stubborn than I am."

I nestled my cheek against his shoulder. "It's an act for the most part I think. She probably just wanted to make sure I had a better 'we're pregnant!' story than she did." It was a story she told often, much to my father's chagrin. "When my mom found out she was pregnant, she fixed my dad's favorite—beef stroganoff. Not out of a box. She literally made the noodles, the sauce, everything. She even busted out some wine for the occasion.

My father came home, dead tired, sweaty, dirty, and he just went to his chair and didn't say a word. My mom could tell he had a hell of a day and knew her news would cheer him up. So she said she made his favorite. That got a smile out of him. And then she just decided the hell with it and told him she was pregnant. His jaw hit the floor and then he leapt to his feet and hugged her. When she stepped back, she saw that he was crying. My dad never,
ever
cries. And that's when he told her that he'd been laid off."

"Jesus," Jacob whispered, stroking my cheek tenderly like the memory would break me in two.

"I'm okay," I assured him. It was my parent's painful memory; a memory that my mother unfortunately liked to bring up often. She claimed it was proof that things will always get better—my father connected with another co-worker that was laid off too, and they started their own auto body shop—but I could feel my father's apprehension every time she started up.
'I spent all day in the kitchen, sure I was about to give Earl the best news, and then he tells me he lost his job. But look at us now!'

"And it turned out alright," I continued trying to get back to that warm, fuzzy, optimistic place. But now I was thinking about our story, what I'd share with people and someday, my child. I'd tell them to pop a squat while I regaled them with how I collapsed at the gym, then ended up at the hospital and...Surprise! I'm pregnant!

I looked down at the bed, picking at invisible lint on the sheet. "With all the drama we've been through, it would have been nice to have some sort of storybook moment. Like we were grocery shopping and I steered us down the baby aisle and started perusing and then our eyes met and you knew before I even said a word. Or I invite the designer over and when she's showing us swatches, ask you what color you'd like for the baby's room. I'd even risk catastrophe, making you a home cooked meal so I could look at you in the candlelight and tell you we're having a baby." I chewed on my bottom lip, the sinking feeling not going away. It dropped a few more inches if that was possible, filling the pit in my stomach like a thick cloud of suckiness. "Instead, I'm in the hospital and-"

Before I could finish that thought and wallow in the cruelness of fate, Jacob leaned in and kissed it all away. His lips whispered against mine first, like he was saying he loved me without words. It was in the way he brushed his lips across my bottom one, then the top. Before I could catch my breath, he thrust his tongue in my mouth. He was hungry and ravenous, demanding that I listen to the rhythm of his body and not the noise in my head. In his arms, there was nothing but love; no regret.

He ended the kiss, his nostrils still flaring because it was a kiss that should have quickly led to clothes being flung all over the place and our bodies pressed together in a way that was
definitely
against hospital policy. After two breaths, when the lust stilled, he looked so singularly focused on making me understand and believe the words that came out of his mouth.

"We've had bumps in the road,” he started. “Curves. Maybe even a few moments where we wondered where the hell we were even going. But I wouldn't trade a single second because the love you give lifts me up in a way that I know no matter what we face, we'll be okay. And I want to spend the rest of my life lifting
you
up—and being the best damn dad that ever existed." Tears churned in his eyes. In his voice. "I love you, Leila."

I squeezed his hand, my nostrils burning as I rode the wave of emotion with him. "I love you too."

Two knocks, followed by a 'sorry to interrupt' had us both sniffling and collecting ourselves.

A woman with a full head of wild gray curls and the kindest smile stood at the foot of my bed. A stethoscope hung around her neck and her hazel eyes glittered as she took us in. "I'm Dr. French. It's nice to officially meet you, Leila." She winked one of her eyes at us. "I was rounding when your mother popped over and told me that you were awake and alert and would probably want an update on what's been going on."

I exchanged a look with Jacob.
That or she wanted to ensure that he'd told me in a timely and acceptable manner
. Chuckling to myself, I swiped the remote and tilted my bed up a bit. "Hopefully my mother hasn't been too annoying."

"Oh, I have stories about Momzillas that would keep you up at night. Your mother is a cakewalk compared to them," Dr. French smiled, walking around to my other side and peering at my monitors. "Everything is looking good for right now and from the way you're both glowing, I can tell that he's shared the good news."

A flash of excitement ricocheted through me. Our baby. I felt like talking would probably bring tears, so I just nodded, still clutching Jacob's news.

"Well, I'll jump right in and tell you what we've found out since you were admitted late last night." Her smile remained in her eyes, but her whole demeanor changed to the crisp, authoritative tone of a woman that had a job to do, and she took that job seriously. "We ran a variety of standard tests when you arrived to make sure we weren't missing something big. The fainting combined with the fall could be a sign of a concussion. We did find that you sustained a very mild concussion, so we’ve been watching you carefully. We also checked your blood sugar to rule out diabetes. Your glucose levels were elevated, so we're going to put you on some medicine to hopefully ward off gestational diabetes." She gripped her stethoscope. "You need to avoid stress and take it easy. I know with your lifestyle that's likely easier said than done, but stress is very bad for mom and baby."

My hand shot to my belly. "But the baby is okay?"

She reached out and patted my hand. Not in a patronizing way, but in a way that told me she got it. She must have had children because there was a embrace in her touch that told me that it was okay to exhale.

"Your baby is fine and growing as expected. You're about eight weeks along and we have a transvaginal ultrasound scheduled for later this afternoon-"

"Can we do it now?" I smiled as big as I could, knowing it was a long shot, but wanting to see that our baby was okay with my own two eyes. Preferably as soon as possible.

Dr. French shifted her gaze from me to Jacob, then back to me. "Generally, we'd only move up that procedure if there were concerns." The smile returned to her lips. "But I remember my first little one. And there's nothing like laying your eyes on your baby yourself."

She moved to the table in the corner where the phone was sitting. Jacob and I said a silent prayer together while she talked for a few moments. When she came back over, her expression told us she had good news.

"We can get you seen right now." She scanned down to my feet, then back up. "How are you feeling? I could have a wheelchair wrangled so we could get you down to the maternity wing."

Before she'd even gotten out her sentence, I'd thrown back the covers and kicked my legs off the edge. Even though I had it, barely wobbling when I stood on my feet, Jacob was right beside me, steadying me.

Dr. French beamed at both of us. "Well, then. Let's go meet your baby."

I didn't know if it was a mix of the medicine I was on or sheer excitement, but I was in a daze as we took the elevator up to the maternity wing and followed the doctor to the ultrasound room. She wished us luck and told us she was leaving us in the ultrasound technician’s capable hands, and would stop in later to check on me.

The tech was clearly a fan of
PR
from the way she squealed when she saw us, but she stepped back into professionalism mode almost immediately, making me feel at home and safe when she situated me on the table. She pulled out the probe and I made a joke about dinner first that brought clipped laughter from Jacob. I could tell he was just as nervous as I was.

We turned toward the screen and the tech explained what we were looking at.

Then I saw it.

The flicker.

Our baby's heartbeat.

"P
ersonally, I think the name Cheryl would be perfect. No other name would do if you're having a little girl."

I scooped a spoonful of broccoli and cheese soup in my mouth, then took a bite of the whole wheat bun. If my mouth was full, a response wouldn't be required.

Megan stepped up to the plate, throwing her hat in the ring. At least she was turning the Name Game into something that wasn't quite so cutthroat. "Not to toot my own horn, but Megan is a pretty awesome name too."

I could tell she was mostly joking, but there was something in the way she glanced over at me that told me that if it was a girl, she wouldn't be opposed if I did gift her with name Megan.