Baby Love: A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance (21 page)

I parked the bike in front of Callie’s townhouse and did a last-minute check of the full-sized, long box in the front. Michael had padded the bicycle box with pillows, foam, and three thick, soft wool blankets. On the rear rack of the bicycle sat a picnic basket. It was cloudy and about fifty degrees. I’d told Rachel to dress warmly. I knocked on the front door.

I hardly recognized Callie when she opened it. “Callie, you’re looking well,” I said, reaching out and kissing her on the cheeks. Her hair was in natural waves. She looked like she’d put on a bit of much-needed weight. Her clear skin was makeup-free, and she was wearing soft, drapey clothing that was the exact opposite of the tight, tailored clothes she’d worn in my office all those months ago.

She grinned. “It’s a good season for change, don’t you think?”

I nodded. “It is indeed.”

“Come inside, Rachel’s on the sofa. Oh, and by the way, Zane. Thank you. For the thing with. You know. The photos. It’s made the divorce go a lot smoother. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

I squeezed her arm. “It was my pleasure.” I held my breath as I walked into the living room, nervous to see Rachel. I saw the bouquet of yellow sunflowers that I’d mailed to her earlier today arranged in a glass mason jar. “You got my flowers,” I said.

Rachel smiled at me. She had a lime green knitted earwarmer on and a puffy coat. “I love them. They’re perfect. Much, much better than roses.”

I stood at the end of the sofa awkwardly. “Are you ready to go?” I couldn’t take my eyes off her.

She nodded and lifted up her arms. “Beam me up, Scotty.”

I reached down, desperate to touch her, and lifted her up like I was carrying my bride across the threshold. She fit easily in my arms. “Well, this hasn’t changed,” I whispered to her.

She blushed. I walked past Callie. “We won’t be out late, I promise. Not much after nine p.m.”

Callie nodded. “Have fun and be safe,” she said, shutting the door behind us.

Rachel’s eyes lit up when she saw the bicycle. “Oh my…”

“You like it? The doctor said it was fine. You’ll be laying in the front box, basically, just with your knees folded a little bit. Michael kitted it out pretty well with blankets and pillows, but if it’s not comfortable we’ll stop and just go back inside and watch movies, okay?”

Rachel didn’t respond. Instead she reached up and kissed me on the lips. I melted against her, tasting her, wanting her. We came up for air when a car honked loudly at us. “Do you kiss all your first dates like that?” I asked her.

She grinned. “Only the ones who look like you.”

I walked down the steps and placed her in the nest of comfort. She wiggled into it and I wrapped blankets around her legs. I reached into the picnic basket and procured a hot water bottle that I placed at her feet. “I feel like Laura Ingalls Wilder,” she said happily. “When she’s dating Almonso and he picks her up and takes her all those miles home each weekend just so she can see her family. She put hot potatoes in her pockets and at her feet to keep warm.” The cold was making her cheeks pink and edible-looking.

“I’d take you all the way across Lake Michigan if that’s what you wanted,” I said, gazing into her green eyes.

She reached up and kissed me again. Michael was right: this first date was already going better than our last.

An hour later, Rachel was screeching with joy as I sped her along the mostly empty lakeshore trail. The water was calm today with the merciful lack of wind, but the cloudy skies and cold temperatures were keeping people away. It was already down to thirty-eight degrees as daylight faded. Rachel didn’t seem to mind, and riding the bike was keeping me plenty warm. I actually had to remove my jacket.

“You hungry yet?” I asked her.

She looked back at me and grinned. “This fresh air on my face seems to be doing me good. I actually
am
hungry for the first time in I-don’t-even-know-when.”

I pulled over once we found a bench, putting down the kickstand of the bike and unstrapping the picnic basket. I sat on the bench and Rachel stayed in her warm little cocoon. I opened the lid and a puff of steam rose out of it. “Looks like Michael packed a lot of different things in here. He wasn’t sure what you’d be able to tolerate.”

I dug through the basket. There were multiple thermoses filled with his famous, homemade chicken noodle soup, plain chicken broth, hot chocolate, and plain tea. Wrapped underneath were piping hot biscuits and miniature, Hawaiian pizza bites.

Rachel’s eyes went wide. “I’m honestly starving. Let me start with the pizza and work my way down.”

She ate happily. I was too excited to want much of anything, so I enjoyed handing her new items to try. She filled up faster than usual, but she seemed content.

The iron grey lake lapped against the concrete barrier behind us. She breathed in the air and smiled. “No nausea. This is literally the first meal I’ve had where I haven’t wanted to barf after it.”

“Really? Michael called Callie and she said you were fine after dinner now.”

Rachel nodded. “I’m better than I was, I’ll say that. But I still have to hold it down out of sheer will, honestly. But not right now. Right now? I’m happy.”

She reached out with a fingerless-mitt-covered hand and grabbed my bare one. My stomach did a few backflips and I smiled at her. “You’re turning me into a nervous teenager,” I said, running my hand through my curls.

She smiled. “I like hearing that. It makes me happy.”

We rode home in the near darkness, Rachel whooping and hollering the entire way as I pushed the bicycle faster and faster and faster.

I felt like I could die tonight and be happy.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

RACHEL

I pulled the cookies out of the oven and placed them on the stovetop. “Rachel, we’ve gotta go!” Callie called from the front of the house.

“Hang on, I’m almost ready,” I replied. My belly was already showing. I rubbed it and grabbed my purse. “Okay. I’m ready.”

“Zane is meeting us there.” She glanced down at my stomach. “You really are enormous for only three months along.”

“I’m having a food baby as well,” I joked. My morning sickness had ended two weeks before, and I was making up for lost food and time. I’d been eating eight times a day, constantly ravenous and shoving my mouth with anything edible within reach. Thankfully, Callie was still buying junk food for herself, so I didn’t have to choke down healthy versions of snack food every day. I thumbed through my phone as Callie pulled her car away from the parking space.

There was a text from Zane. “Already here. Can’t wait to see you.”

I beamed.

Callie glanced over and gave me a knowing look. “A message from Prince Charming, I take it?”

I shook my head. “Just…the quarterly sales projections came in. It’s good news,” I lied. Well, it was a half lie. The projections
had
come in earlier in the day and they
were
great news.

Callie nodded. “Patrick never showed up early for anything,” she replied knowingly.

I scowled at her playfully. She’d clearly read the text over my shoulder. “How did you possibly read my phone from all the way over there?”

Callie laughed. “Sisterly ESP. Sisterly ESP.”

Zane was perched nervously on his chair in the waiting room. He popped up like a bullet out of a gun when he saw me, rushing over and lifting me into a hug. Several of the pregnant women in the waiting room were staring jealously at both of us. I knew they recognized him. “How are you? How’s the baby?” he asked me, brushing back my hair.

I looked down, embarrassed but pleased. “Fine, Zane. But I guess we’ll know for sure in a few minutes.”

Callie came back with us into the ultrasound room. The doctor arrived. He never sent a tech to do my scans; he always did them himself. I was certain this was because this baby was Zane Reid’s baby. For once, I didn’t mind the extra, privileged attention.

“Zane, good to see you man,” said Dr. Fuentes. He was a tall, handsome man with tanned skin and salt-and-pepper hair at his temples. He’d been in the business of baby delivery for four decades. I trusted him implicitly. He reached his hand out to shake mine. “You’re looking radiant, Rachel.” I grinned. He turned around to greet Callie, who he’d met half a dozen times. Then he looked back at me. “So, today’s the big day! We find out if you’re having a girl or a boy.”

“Or a nachos bell grande from Taco Bell,” Callie joked from her corner.

Dr. Fuentes squeezed my hand and smiled good-naturedly at me. “Your appetite’s back, I take it?”

I nodded. “I’m like a fifteen-year-old soccer player after a three-day tournament.”

“It’s true,” Callie said. “We had to start ordering groceries so I didn’t have to go to the store every other day.”

Dr. Fuentes lowered the lights and pulled back my hospital gown. Zane sat beside me, cradling my hand in both of his. He kept kissing the back of my hand excitedly as he jiggled his leg, staring at the blank-for-now ultrasound screen. The gel was cold as it hit my stomach. Dr. Fuentes gently rocked the wand across my belly.

The sound of a rapid heartbeat filled the room. I heard Callie burst into tears from the corner. “Calm down,” I said, but I already felt the salty moisture cascading down my face. Zane squeezed my hand.

“It’s a girl!” Dr. Fuentes announced happily. “A beautiful, healthy baby girl.”

Callie squealed and ran over to me, taking my other hand. All three of us were crying, even Zane. I let go of Callie and flicked a tear off his dimpled cheek. “It’s sexy as hell to see a tattooed guy crying over a baby.”

He reached down and kissed my forehead. “A girl. We’re having a little girl.”

I lost myself in his blue eyes that were full of love.

Dr. Fuentes spoke again. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but I have another thing to tell you.”

All three of us snapped our heads toward him, panicking. “What?” I asked, my heart racing.

“It’s a girl,” he said.

I nodded slowly.

“Yeah, you already fucking said that, doc,” Zane said, as confused as I was.

Dr. Fuentes smiled like he was hiding a present behind his back for us three eager children to tear open. “It’s a girl.
And
it’s a girl. You’re having twins.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

RACHEL

“You’re looking perky,” I said to Callie, who was singing in the kitchen while she did the dishes. “Did you get fucked by someone finally?” I reached around my six-month-pregnant belly and into the fridge.

She beamed at me. “I quit my job today. For good.”

I dropped my jaw and the orange juice bottle nearly went with it. “Are you serious?”

She nodded. “Absolutely am.”

I squealed and hugged her. My arms comically didn’t reach her shoulders. I gave her a side hug. “I’m so proud of you. So what’s the plan?”

Callie sighed happily. “I don’t actually have a plan for once in my life. I’ve got a ton of money saved; the house is paid off. I’m going to take some time for myself.”

“I’m so happy for you, Calls. Really truly.” My phone buzzed.

“That’s loverboy sending you his ‘on the way’ text?” Callie said with a smile. “That boy is stuck hard on you, Rach.”

I smiled at her and answered the phone. “Hello?”

“Hey. Change of plans for tonight. Liz’s nanny is sick and her two backup babysitters can’t make it. Interested in watching some precious, angelic children for the evening? She pays well. Mostly in champagne and fancy cheeses.”

“Neither of which I can eat right now,” I reminded him.

“Fuck, that’s right. Well…
I
will make it worth your while, I promise.”

“Not in front of the kids, I hope,” I joked.

“My payment will have to be a raincheck. It’s only for a few hours while Liz goes on some hot date with a venture capitalist who’s in town for one night from Dubai or something,” Zane said.

“You know I’d do anything as long as it’s with you,” I said.

Callie made a gagging noise and mimed vomiting into the sink. I flipped her off with my middle finger.

Zane murmured appreciatively. “I love the sound of that. I’ll pick you up in a bit. Bring something entertaining.”

I laughed. “Like what? Silly string?”

“I already packed that. How about your charming wit?” Zane retorted.

“I never leave home without it.”

Two hours later all five of Liz’s boys had us tied to chairs and were running actual, literal circles around us and howling like wolves.

“Playing cops and robbers was not a good idea,” Zane yelled at me.

I was laughing too hard to care. “I think I can slip my knots.”

“I can’t. I took Ryan sailing last summer and taught him about eighteen different sailor’s knots. I’m not sure MacGyver could break these bonds.”

I rubbed my wrists together and the ropes came off. I stood up. “Okay, boys, I’ve got a new game. It’s called-“ I looked around the room hastily.

“Boiler Room,” Zane announced from his position as hostage.

The oldest, Ryan, laughed. “That’s mom’s show! I don’t want to watch TV.”

Zane shook his head. “You are officially the first ten-year-old in history to ever say that. No, I mean that each one of you needs to come up with a business idea. You have thirty minutes. Then you’ll come into the living room one at a time and present them to both me and Aunt Rachel, alright? The best plan gets ice cream.”

The boys yelled in excitement, the smallest one standing with his diaper around his ankles and a pacifier in his mouth. “Ryan, fix your brother’s diaper and help him come up with an idea,” I said.

The boys ran out of the room and upstairs to assemble their best ideas.

“Great thinking,” I said, impressed with the speed and apparent success of his idea.

“Thanks. Untie me, will you?”

I walked around to Zane’s chair and crossed my arms. “I think I should keep you like that for after the kids are in bed.”

Zane’s eyes flashed. “I love that idea. Except my hands are going numb. I swear Ryan has a career in front of him as Jason Bourne.”

The knot was so complex I actually had to cut it with a kitchen knife. Zane rubbed his wrists gratefully. “My hero,” he said, gently dipping me over his arm and kissing me on the mouth. “Let’s go sit by the fire pit with some cocoa while the kids come up with their ideas,” Zane suggested. “I’ll go make it. Bring blankets.”