Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 28026 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 140(@200wpm)___ 112(@250wpm)___ 93(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 28026 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 140(@200wpm)___ 112(@250wpm)___ 93(@300wpm)
I love you, the thought appears magically in my head. I’ve missed you so much, Christian. You can’t even begin to imagine how much I’ve longed for you.
But the man is staring wild-eyed at me, and then at the baby in my arms. The whites of his eyes show, and I swear, he’s about to start frothing at the mouth.
“Emily,” he rasps, his voice low with warning. “Tell me that that’s my son.”
“Christian, I can explain,” I say quickly, holding up one hand. “Blaze was conceived—”
“Blaze?” Christian roars. “You named our baby after a fucking fire? After what you put me through?”
“Christian,” I start again while trying to remain calm. People on the street are stopping to turn and stare because my man is causing a scene, and yet he doesn’t give a fuck. “I can explain, if you’ll just give me a chance—”
But the alpha male is incensed.
“Tell me that’s my son!” he roars as those blue eyes throw sparks. His hands curl into fists at his sides, the knuckles white. “Or help me god, I will kill you myself, Emily! I will throttle you with these bare hands and –”
But now, Christian’s gone too far. The death threats alarm passerby, and a man steps forward, his arm up and expression concerned.
“Miss, is this man bothering you? Just let me know because I can get 9-1-1 here in a flash.”
I take a deep breath even as my baby wails. Then, I put a comforting hand onto my son’s back, lightly circling my palm to soothe him.
“No, I’m fine, thanks. Christian, I’m working right now, so I can’t talk. But come over around 7 p.m. tonight. I’m at the Stony Pines Park, Trailer 3E. I’ll see you then.”
Shooting a grateful look at the stranger, I nod. “Thank you for your help, but I’m okay. Have a good afternoon.” Then without a second glance, I place Blaze back into the stroller and begin to push my precious load of children down the street, spine ramrod straight. Yet as I walk, I can feel the billionaire’s eyes searing my curves. He takes in my thick waist, big bottom, and chunky thighs. After all, I have the body of a mother now .... because I had Christian Degas’s son in secret.
15
Emily
Christian’s early. I just put the baby to sleep, and my hair’s a mess. I don’t have a speck of make-up on, and my clothes consist of a soft t-shirt soiled with spit-up, a pair of sweats that are a bit too tight on my pillowy mommy body, and ragged slippers that have a hole in the toe.
Yet the billionaire’s already here, fifteen minutes before seven. He comes storming up to my trailer and rings the bell, leaving his thumb on the buzzer so long that it sounds jarring and false.
“Okay, okay,” I mutter to myself in a panic, trying to pat my curls in place. “Coming!”
But then I stop myself. What are you doing, Emily? the voice in my head asks. It doesn’t matter how you look in front of this man because he’s going to tear you a new one, no matter how you look. Only bad things can come from this confrontation, not good.
A shiver of fear runs down my spine because somehow, I know the voice is right. Christian is a billionaire with unlimited resources. He’s back in town, and now that he’s believes Blaze is his, he might take my son away from me.
My heart contracts with fear. I can’t lose my baby. Not now, not ever. As a result, I stop fussing with my hair and stand up straight before opening the door.
“Christian, welcome to my home—”
The billionaire storms inside, looking around the tiny trailer.
“Where is he?” he rasps. “Where’s my son?”
At first, I have half a thought to pretend that Blaze doesn’t belong to him. But even I can’t be that cruel, and I raise a finger to my lips.
“Blaze is sleeping, but I’ll take you to him. Quiet though. I just got the baby down, and if he wakes up, he’s going to scream his head off.”
Christian calms a little, stuffing his hands into his jeans pockets, even though his face still looks like thunder.
“Fine,” he bites out in a barely-contained whisper. “Take me to my son.”
With that, I open the door to the bedroom in my trailer. A one-bed is all I can afford as a day-care worker, but I’m grateful to have this space nonetheless. Inside, the room is darkened as a small light box throws glowing hearts, moons, and stars over one wall. We pad towards the crib and I hear the alpha male let out a shuddering exhale as he looks down on the body of our sleeping baby.
“My son,” he whispers, so quietly that it’s almost inaudible.
I nod before shooting Christian a quick sideways look.