Billionaires, Bad Boys, and Alpha Males (119 page)

“Red,” she said, breaking away.
 
“I came here for a reason.”

He pulled back and looked into her
eyes.
 
“I figured the reason was
that you knew we needed to be together.
 
Is there another reason?”

She nodded.
 
“Yes, there is.”
 
Her heart was pounding again.
 
Was she telling him too soon?
 
He’d only just admitted his
feelings--they’d finally come together again.
 
She wanted to enjoy this moment and not
ruin it.

But why should telling him the truth ruin
anything?

“Nicole,” he said softly.
 
“You know you can tell me
everything.”
 
He stroked her hair
and smiled.

“I’m scared,” she whispered.
 
Her hand went to her stomach,
reflexively.
 

“Don’t be scared,” he replied.
 
“Just say it.
 
Whatever it is you came to tell me, you
can just say it.”

Nicole licked her lips and
swallowed.
 
Red sat down on the edge
of the couch, his body touching hers.
 
He was so warm and his presence so
comforting, his eyes were soft and caring.
 
She didn’t want to lose this sensation of being taken care of.

“Promise me that you won’t be angry.”

“I won’t be angry, babe.”

She smiled at him calling her babe, as if
no time had gone by at all.
 
As if
he hadn’t ordered out of his life and run away.
 
She believed him completely—in his
mind she’d never stopped being the one.
 
Just as in her mind, she’d never truly stopped believing that he loved
her completely.

“Yesterday I woke up and got sick to my
stomach,” she said.
 
Her voice shook
slightly.

His brow furrowed.
 
“You threw up?”

“Yeah.
 
I thought maybe I had a touch of a
stomach bug or something.
 
But then
it happened again this morning, and I couldn’t brush it off.”

Red nodded slightly, his expression
unreadable.
 
“Go on.”

“So I did the next thing.
 
I went to the pharmacy and got some
pregnancy tests and came home and took them.
 
They all said the same thing.”
 
Nicole looked into his eyes and tried to
see what he was thinking.

“Are you saying what I think you’re
saying?” he asked.

“I’m pregnant.”
 
She burst into tears.
 
“And I know it’s yours and I hope…I hope
you…” she couldn’t finish.

“Listen to me, Nicole,” he said, his
voice calm but forceful.
 
“Look at
me, babe.”

She did, even though her eyes were filled
with tears.

“I love you with all my heart,” he
said.
 
“And I’m so happy that you’re
carrying our child.
 
We’re going to
be a family,” he said.
 
And then he
was kissing her again, and she was kissing him back.

His hand moved down to her belly and
rubbed it softly.
 

“Promise me you’ll never leave us again?”
she said.

“Never.
 
In my heart, I never left you,” he told
her.
 
“I thought you should leave
me, but I never wanted to be apart.
 
I was just a damn fool and I hope you’ll forgive me for being a fool.”

“Of course I forgive you.
 
But how can I be sure you won’t freak
out again?”

“Because I’m giving you my word.”
 
He looked at her and smiled and kissed
her forehead.
 
“We have a baby.
 
It’s so perfect, isn’t it?
 
A beautiful being is going to come into
this world and that little baby is going to be the manifestation of what you
and I share.
 
A piece of you and a
piece of me—hopefully more of you and a bit less of me.”

She laughed.
 
“I never thought you’d react like
this.
 
I was terrified you’d be
angry with me.”

“Never.”
 
He kissed her lips.
 
“Never.”

Nicole was finally starting to
relax.
 
The cabin was so cozy and
her worst fears had been averted.
 
In fact, Red’s reaction to the news had been far better than she ever
could’ve imagined.
 
He actually was
excited and happy, almost joyous about it all.
 

“I’m so glad I came here,” she murmured,
suddenly feeling tired.
 
It was as
if she hadn’t slept in weeks and weeks.

She was finally home.
 
Home was wherever Red was.

Red went to his little twin bed and took
the blanket from it, brought it over to the couch and covered her with it.
 
She smiled up at him, her eyes
heavy.
 
She felt sleepy and drunk
with relief.
 

“Rest now, Nicole.
 
I’m here and I’ll take care of everything.”

“You will?” she murmured, already falling
into the depths, as if dipping into a warm, soothing bath.

“I will,” he replied.

And then she was sleeping peacefully, the
most relaxed she’d been in a very long time.

When Nicole first awoke from her nap, her
eyes blinking, trying to remember where she was—she heard
noises—pots and pans clanking together or something.

Her eyes began to focus and she saw Red
at the stove, bustling around.
 
All
he needed was a little apron and he’d have made a perfect chef, she thought.

Red heard her stirring and turned
around.
 
“What’s that smile about?”
he asked, holding a spoon dripping with red sauce.

Nicole scooted up on the couch and felt a
short burst of pain in her ankle.
 
“Ouch.”

“Are you okay?”
 
He dropped the spoon and bolted over to
the couch.
 
“Let me look at your
ankle,” he said.

“I’m fine,” she laughed.
 
“I just tweaked it a little—I kind
of forgot it was hurt.”

“I should rewrap it anyway, and you’re
almost due for another round of ice.”

“You mean peas.”

“Frozen peas,” he clarified, unwrapping
the Ace bandage and examining her swollen, bruised ankle.
 
“Damn, I’m so pissed at myself for
making you run away like that this afternoon.”
 
Red shook his head.

“It’s okay now,” she said, patting his
hand.

“It’s not okay for me. You got hurt
because I acted like a jerk.”

“My ankle already feels better,” she
said.
 
“So you shouldn’t beat
yourself up about it.”
 

Red looked up at her.
 
“I can tell when you lie.”

“Well, I’m sure it will feel better
soon.
 
Especially with my own personal
physician helping me rehab it with frozen veggies.”

He laughed and nodded, reapplying the
bandage.
 
“I think the swelling’s
already gone down a bit.”

Nicole watched him as he tended to her
injury, and she couldn’t help but well up with love and affection.
 
He was so intent on making her
comfortable, on taking care of her, just the way she’d hoped he would in her
wildest fantasies.
 

It was worth it to twist my ankle to see
him behaving this way, she thought.

“What are you cooking over there, Chef
Jameson?” she asked, pointing to the stove with the big pot bubbling on
it.
 
She could see steam pouring out
of the top of it.

“Oh, shit.
 
I forgot, I have to stir that and turn
down the heat or dinner’s going to be ruined,” he said, scrambling to his feet
and darting back to the stove.

He picked up his spoon and stirred
vigorously for a minute.
 
“I’m
making Red’s famous spaghetti with marinara sauce.”

“Mmmm…sounds delicious,” she replied,
sniffing the air.
 
“I smell onions
and garlic and meatballs.”

“Sausage, actually.
 
Everything’s in the sauce, babe.”
 
He turned and gave her an exaggerated
wink.
 
“But don’t try and ask me for
my recipe—I’ll never reveal my secret sauce.”

“I think I could make you tell if I
wanted to.”

“No way,” he said, shaking his head.
 
“My lips are sealed.”

A few minutes later, Red had come back to
the couch bearing his frozen peas again, as promised.
 
Nicole sat up and he placed a few
pillows behind her back, but still made sure her foot was sufficiently
elevated.
 

“Thanks,” she said, relaxing again into
the wonders of being waited on hand and foot by the love of her life.
 
She actually wanted to pinch herself and
make sure it wasn’t a dream.
 

As Red continued to prepare their dinner,
she had time to think about all of the things they still needed to talk
about.
 
After all, now that she was
pregnant, they had to truly set a wedding date and work through everything this
was going to entail.
 
She didn’t
know what kind of parenting style Red believed in.
 
She didn’t know if he wanted to find out
the baby’s sex in advance—did he want to take Lamaze classes with her?

There were so many questions, so many
details to figure out.

And on top of that, there were all the
other questions still lingering about what Red’s fate was going to be now that
he’d been fired from Jameson International.
 
Nicole didn’t care about the money
specifically, but she did want to know what his next step would be.
 
Did he want to just hang around at home
and live off his money for the rest of his life—did he want them to live
in the wilderness like the Swiss Family Robinson?

Nicole hated to think that Kane Wright
had forced Red into early retirement.
 
Even thinking the man’s name made her stomach turn.
 
Worse still, she knew eventually she was
going to have to explain to Red what had gone on while they’d been out of
touch.

Kane was still under the assumption that
Nicole was going to the Cayman Islands with him.
 
How would he react when he realized she
was backing out of the deal?
 
He’d
already paid off Danielle’s student loans and credit cards to the tune of a
hundred thousand dollars.
 
He still
had information about Red that he was threatening to release to the media.

As wonderful as it had been to enjoy this
little pocket of tranquility and contentment, she knew she was going to have to
burst the bubble sooner rather than later with news from the outside world.

And Nicole knew Red well enough to be
fairly certain he was going to blow his stack when he found out about Kane
Wright’s recent overtures.

“Dinner is served, madam,” Red said,
carrying a heaping plate of spaghetti over to her on the couch.

“It looks and smells delicious,” she
said, and it was true.
 
Her stomach
gurgled and growled, reminding her of just how ravenous she really was.

Nicole dug in immediately and was
astounded by how good it tasted.
 
“Wow,” she said.
 
“You
weren’t kidding when you said this was your famous marinara sauce.
 
It’s totally awesome.”

Red went to the stove to make himself a
plate.
 
“I shouldn’t really take all
the credit, though.
 
Chef Roland
might have shown me a thing or two.”

“It’s his recipe, isn’t it?”

Red finished spooning sauce onto his
spaghetti before answering.
 
“Truth
is, a couple years ago I realized that I couldn’t cook anything but bacon and
eggs.
 
And my eggs weren’t anything to
write home about either.”
 
He
grabbed a chair and pulled it right next to the couch, then sat down and rested
the plate on his lap.
 
“I figured it
might be nice to learn how to make at least one decent meal, in case I ever
wanted to cook and impress someone.”

Nicole cocked an eyebrow at him.
 
“Just how many women have you made this
famous pasta for?”

“Only a few,” he said, his face reddening
slightly.
 
“But I’ve never made it
with so much love.
 
I swear.”

She put another forkful in her mouth and
chewed before speaking again.
 
“It’s
okay, I love you even though you used to be a slut.”