To Want A Billionaire (The Billionaire's Baby Series Book 1) (8 page)

I eyed them suspiciously as my mother roped an arm around her new BFF.

“Smile, Alicia! This is for The Facebook!”

I wiggled out of my chair, headed toward Megan. She was helping the waiter, Holden, stir and pour lemonade in pink and blue tumblers.

“It is weird that they’re getting along, right?” I asked, even though I knew the answer to my question.

Megan finished stirring, making sure the level of drink was uniform across the board. “I’m confused—I thought you were worried they wouldn’t get along? Now you’re freaking because they are?”

I picked up one of the glasses, bringing it to my lips. “The last time they were together, I had to hide anything sharp and weapon-like, and-” I stopped mid-sentence, my taste buds exploding with delight. This wasn’t your basic, run-of-the-mill lemonade. I tasted lemon, mint, and a hint of strawberry. Even the little one seemed to give the lemonade a thumbs up. “Oh my God, this is delicious!”

Megan stopped fussing with the spread, beaming. “Top secret recipe, dusted off for my bestie and god baby!” She reached towards my belly and stopped a few inches short of touching it, like she hit an electric fence with a sign posted that read, ‘NO TRESPASSING’.

Smiling, I gently pulled her hand the rest of the way. “Keep the lemonade coming and you can cop all the feels you want.”

Her olive eyes sparkled with joy when she made contact. “We can’t wait to meet you, Megan!” I swept her hand off with a chuckle and she shrugged nonchalantly. “Or Cade, if it’s a boy.”

I rolled my eyes and swiped another lemonade. “You’re about as bad as my mom.”
Speaking of my mom...

I glanced back over, expecting whatever spell had been cast on the two of them to have faded a bit, revealing a barbed comment or scowl or two. I came up empty. They were huddled over their phones, giggling like they were the best of friends.

I cast an incredulous look back at Megan, but she was nonplussed, rounding up refreshments. “Just look at them, Meg!”

Holden was ready to take the drinks over, but Megan took over the honors. She paused long enough to toss a frown over her shoulder before heading toward the newly chummy duo. “They look happy, Leila. Jesus, it’s almost like you wish they were throwing down right now, like some trashy reality TV show.”

I shook my head and stubbornly crossed my arms against chest. “No, it’s not that-”

“You know how I threatened to take anyone out who disrupted your day?” Megan gave me a stern look that transported us to her classroom and I was on thin ice. “That includes you.”

And with that, she joined our guests. All of them smiling brightly like a glistening ad for new beginnings.

I watched the scene in silence, slurping on my lemonade suspiciously. Was I ruining my own party? Sabotaging it with my surly attitude, living in the past? Had my brattiness spilled into my social life, too?

I nibbled on my bottom lip, still unwilling to let go of my skepticism. Hadn’t my mother all but said she was hoping Alicia would catch that bug a few days ago? And I hadn’t even seen Alicia in over a month. But here we all were, letting bygones be bygones.

For the baby.

I let my eyes drop to my belly, the baby girl (or boy) that had brought us all together. We’d all been through so much, hurt each other, all but burned bridges...and here we were, putting all that aside for the baby.

Well, there
they
were, letting go and celebrating, and I was on the outside looking in, searching for a catch. Eyes peeled for catastrophe. Stressing myself out at
my
baby shower...and that was 100% on me.

I could keep pouting, which I pretty much had down pat, considering all the fake smiling I’d been doing and the fact that I’d just pushed my food around my plate at Cafe 29. Or, I could put on my big girl pants and play along. Be grateful that my best friend put this celebration together and accomplished the impossible—bringing Cheryl Montgomery and Alicia Whitmore together, and insults weren’t flying.

Or, I could keep throwing my solo temper tantrum, guzzling lemonade, and prove that stubbornness wasn’t just a Jacob thing.

I lifted my glass to the waiter and trudged over to my family and best friend. All eyes shot to me, then down to my belly, and the conversation went quiet. Their gazes turned
me
into the one that was acting strangely.

I opened my mouth, ready to announce that I was not the elephant in the room, then clamped my mouth shut and took a deep breath. After I exhaled, I stapled a smile to my face.

“What’s up?” I said, hoping the cheer I was forcing into my voice would translate to real deal joy. I put aside my own baggage. For the baby. For Megan. For me. Hell, even for my mom and Alicia. I knew my mother was a social butterfly and a free day was a rarity, and she made the time for me. And Alicia had foundations, charity work, and a household of servants to rule, so it meant something that she was here, too.

Mom was the first one to answer, wielding her phone like a weapon and aiming it right at me. “We were just about to place bets on when you’d stop pouting and join us. Say cheese!”

I was nowhere near ready and sure that I was cringing in the photo, but she proclaimed that I looked amazing. Still overwhelmed, I wasn’t quick enough to dodge her when she hustled out of her seat and started fussing over me. “I don’t know how you tamed those locks, but keep it up.” She toyed with my bangs and cradled my cheek for a moment, her eyes glassy with tears. I smiled at her, really smiled, but the moment was short-lived when she reached for my breasts and weighed the right one, then the left. “Pregnancy looks good on you, honey.”

It was impossible for me to blush any harder.

I extricated myself from her, laughing in spite of my embarrassment. “Keep your hands to yourself, Mom, or the fresh headlines from the paps will read, ‘Whitmore Baby Shower Goes XXX’.”

She pecked my cheek and I didn’t wipe it away, turning back to Megan and Alicia. Megan’s expression was a mixture of ‘Finally!’ and ‘Awww!’. Before I could apologize to her, and maybe reluctantly apologize to Alicia, Megan gasped and swiped her phone, eyes glued on the screen as she secreted away from the group. Alicia was unreadable, and it had very little to do with her oversized, pastel shades. She literally looked like someone had taken an eraser to her face and scrubbed away everything except her cold beauty.

She did crack the facade long enough to smile at my mother and I. “I agree with Cheryl—you are positively glowing, Leila.”

I couldn’t help but gape. The white flag I was ready to wave had suddenly wrapped around my vocal chords.

Instantly, my mom was back in my face, her eyes clouding with worry. “What’s wrong?” She pressed a hand to my forehead, then dropped it to my belly. “Is it the baby?”

Her anxiety was contagious and I wrangled that, along with my slack jawed disbelief, and pushed it to the back of my mind. “I think I just got a little winded.” It was a bold-faced lie, and it did nothing to quell my mother’s worry.

She shepherded me to a chair, calling Holden over with a water. I peeked over at Alicia and for the briefest moment, we were on the same wavelength. She knew, that I knew, that this was a definite first for us. I was pretty sure that me growing a second appendage would have happened long before Alicia Whitmore paid me a compliment.

Holden sprang into action, bringing over a bottle of water, and a small bowl of lemon and lime in record time. “Here you go, Mrs. Whitmore.” He was on it, turning to my mom, then Alicia. “Anything for you two?”

Both of them shook their heads in unison, their attention on me.

“I’m fine, thanks,” Alicia assured him.

With a smile.

A
smile
.

I picked up the ginger ale, sipping it as I eyeballed my mother-in-law. “I’m fine. Really. How are
you
, Alicia?”

She looked equally surprised by my question. “I’m...well?” She glanced at my mother, then back at me, with that same bizarre
Twilight Zone
smile.

She didn’t do smiles.  And she certainly didn’t do niceties unless there was a string long enough to hang someone attached.

Megan re-emerged, her smile so big, so warm, that I couldn’t help but remind myself to let it go a second time. This time, I meant it.

“Here’s your shower surprise, all the way from London!”

London? That means-

I leapt from my chair. “Mia!”

I kind of forgot everyone else but the smiling, happy, healthy young woman who was waving at me like a maniac on the screen. It was hard to believe she was the same vaguely stoned, entitled, rude woman who’d sauntered into our first meeting: late, on her phone, and clearly crying out for help.

Mia Kent grew up in the spotlight, starring in family friendly fare, making her a household name. When she hit 18, she went off the deep end.

When we met, she’d shuffled in with a punk rock edge that was hiding the hurt: a painful, unhealthy relationship with her mother, toxic friends. The epitome of sex, drugs, and rock and roll. Today, her blonde hair was cut to her chin, the curls framing her fair complexion as she pushed her heart-shaped glasses to the crown of her head and gave me an unobstructed view of how well she was doing. Her sky blue eyes were filled with happiness as she let out a squeal, covering her mouth as tears filled her eyes.

“You look amazing, Leila!” she exclaimed. “Gosh, you’re all glowy, and your tits look amazing-”

“Mia!” I hissed, laughing and ignoring my mom as she leaned forward and mouthed, ‘I told you so!’.

We caught up briefly and she promised as soon as she and Liam got back to The States, her first stop was to see me and the baby.

“And just in case you guys haven’t decided on a name, Mia is kind of awesome,” she suggested with a toothy grin.

I laughed and told her to be safe, handing the phone back to Megan. We spent the rest of the afternoon playing what I was sure was the Cards Against Humanity equivalent of baby shower games before we packed it up, thanking Holden and security for all their help.

Megan and Alicia started talking charity work, and my mom looped her arm in mine. She leaned in and said the words that always made me feel like everything was gonna be alright.

“I love you, Leila.”

I planted a kiss on her cheek, trying not to cry. God, I was lucky. When I heard what suspiciously sounded like a laugh coming from Alicia’s mouth, I couldn’t resist picking my mom’s brain a bit.

“So, what’s the deal? You and Alicia are friends now?”

She looked at me like I’d just hawked a loogie at her. “Absolutely not. But today its about you. And our grandbaby.” She nestled in close and dropped her volume so only I could hear. “And, I pulled her aside earlier and told her if she puts aside the fact that we can’t stand each other for a few hours, I could too. Or we could take it outside and handle it like real women.”

I doubled over with laughter, the tears I’d been holding back rushing down my cheeks. “‘Best Grandma Ever’, hands down.”

“Damn straight,” she winked, surprising me with the cuss word. Everyone was full of surprises today, it seemed.

Her eyes softened and she gave my hand a squeeze. “‘Best Mom Ever’ too, I hope.”

“Damn straight,” I echoed with a smile, squeezing back.

I
was surrounded on all sides by pink, blue, and yellow tissue paper, onesies, pacifiers, bibs, and the remnants of the Sullivan’s Megan ordered. I was overwhelmed by the number of my fellow employees and complete strangers who had sent gifts for the baby, including a diamond studded rattle from Alicia, and the restored bassinet that my mother had tucked yours truly into from my parents. I’d opened presents and let Marco and his team of massage therapists work their magic. The moment I was alone, insisting that I needed a nap and Jacob and I could handle the clean up, I’d eviscerated an entire roasted chicken.

I was scribbling in my gift tablet, gnawing on a bone when a familiar voice filled the den.

“Quite the haul.”

Turning as red as the sleek knot at his throat, I tossed the bone in with the carcass on the plate beside me and scooted my hips to the left, like I was hiding the evidence. My butt started singing and I blushed even harder, realizing I’d set off one of the baby’s new toys. The ‘ABC Song’ filled the room.

“You’re home!” I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and slapped a smile on my lips. I was on a floor pillow in the center of the den, which had worked out spectacularly while we all attempted baby yoga and opened gifts. Now, I was starting to think it was a terrible mistake, because there was absolutely no way me getting on my feet in a graceful manner was possible.

Jesus, Lay! It’s not like Jacob hasn’t seen you with the infamous Leila Bedhead, complete with morning breath. Or heard your very feminine, and disgustingly fragrant ‘toot’
.
Or seen you red eyed, snotty nosed, and gross when you were sick.

It must have been the hormones that made me wish I’d dashed up the stairs and waited for him in some sexy neglige with lip gloss and mascara, so he’d get the full effect of my bedroom eyes when I whispered, “I need you.” Because at the moment, letting my eyes devour him, inch by beautiful inch, another kind of heat was rippling over me.

His slacks were far more than ‘slacks’. They were glorious, the fabric sliding over his powerful calves, raking up the thighs I wanted to stroke my fingertips along as I reached one of my favorite erotic destinations. I wanted to linger at his groin, watching him grow and harden beneath my gentle and demanding touch. I wanted to tear off his belt, the same belt that he’d worn when he caught me burning the candle at both ends, and tease
him
with it. Run the leather across my bare pussy like his own private burlesque dancer. Watch the fire in his gaze rage with want and curiosity as he wondered where I was headed next.

I bit my lips as my eyes flicked over the buttons I wanted to destroy, tearing off the crisp shirt and jacket that kept him respectable. He was sexy as sin in a suit, in any form of clothing, and straight up evil without because he made me want to do
bad
things. Things like biting his golden flesh as my fingers glided over muscles. Every part of him was mine, and mine alone.