The Billionaire's Reluctant Pregnant Bride: A BWWM Romance Page 10

  “What if I do something you can’t forgive?”

  I smile through my teary eyes. “Well, then you better explain yourself. And if it’s something really bad, then first you better butter me up with some pancakes.”

  He leans down to kiss my knuckles. “Really?”

  “Yeah. These really are amazing.”

  “I’ll remember that. I have a feeling there are going to be a lot of pancakes in my future.”

  “Oh yeah?” I asked, choking up.

  “Yeah. I’m insufferable. An asshole. Controlling. And absolutely in love with you.”

  I leap down from my seat and start kissing him. And those kisses lead to something else. And, by the end of it all, Preston is late for work. Really late.

  Neither of us care about this as much as we should. Everything between us feels so new and perfect. It’s so new and perfect, in fact, that I didn’t even realize he was holding a small black box in his hand before I mauled him with kisses.

  He opens it while our clothes are thrown over every surface of the room and limbs are tangled on the floor.

  “Before I go to work, I want to give you this,” he tells me.

  And he opens that little black box. Inside is a lilac sapphire ring surrounded by small, shimmering diamonds.

  “Preston?” I whisper as he takes my hand, slipping it on.

  “I immediately thought of you when I saw this. You don’t have to say yes yet. You don’t even have to say yes at all. This is just a promise from me to you.”

  “Then this is my promise to you,” I whisper, pulling him close to whisper in his ear. “Yes.”

  Chapter 16

  You know who did not find my early exit from the Charity Ball cute? Preston’s mom.

  I was really not looking forward to the Baby Shower. In fact, I was so not looking forward to it that I’d even asked Kate if it was necessary for me to be there.

  Yes! It’s for you! Don’t worry about a thing. Mother may not like you, but you’re carrying her grandchild. She’s not going to let anything happen to you while you’re there.

  At least Kate welcomed me warmly when I arrived. “We get to celebrate a baby and a new sister in the family all at the same time! Life just gets better and better!” She pulled me into a hug, eager to introduce me to society.

  By society, she meant New York royalty. Old money. New money. The wives and daughters of real estate moguls, restaurant chains, CEO’s of huge companies, senators and—yes—even past presidents.

  Unsurprisingly, I knew absolutely no one there. Well, except my mother, Sondra, and Kate. Oh yes, and Priscilla, who had done nothing more than kiss my cheek with hard, thin lips when I first made the rounds.

  At least my mother was having a good time. She’d rediscovered her love of cupcakes, and kept bringing plates of them to me which she then ate before I could have any, which then sent her back to the table to get more. Also, Kate and Sondra immediately hit it off—in fact, they hit it off so well that I was beginning to feel like the third wheel. It is not fun to be the third wheel in a place like this.

  I look down. Everything about the Easterbrook’s was overwhelming, even the floor. Tiny marble and onyx tiles, set in an intricate Persian pattern of triangles and tiny rectangles rather than squares. The man who laid this entry either lost his mind or has never had an alternate job in his entire life.

  I ponder the fate of this unknown for as long as possible. It was between that and pondering my own.

  I knew Preston was popular with the ladies. However, most girls probably knew when they got into a relationship with him that it wasn’t going to be long-term. Guys like Preston usually married women in their own class—women like the ones here.

  Every single one of them congratulated me with the kind of smile the one that the fairy in Sleeping Beauty must have given whoever it was that let it slip she wasn’t invited to the baby’s christening.

  Oh, that thing? No, I don’t care about things like that. It’s totally fine I wasn’t invited. Now please excuse me while I go crash that party and curse the innocent child.

  I run my hand over my growing belly. More memories of my school days had been coming back. Most were great—me playing with Reggie behind our house. Some were not so great—pretty much anything featuring Preston (he really wasn’t kidding when he said he’d been a dick to me). And then there were the memories that were just downright unpleasant.

  I’d been dealing with bullshit like this my entire life. Alright, not quite like this, but similar. A lot of the kids at my prep school had treated me badly for having a father who was a groundskeeper. This whole ordeal was reminding me of the mean, childish games I had to deal with in High School.

  Of course, not everyone was like that. I had friends. But a lot of people just searched for any moment of weakness so they could tear you down in an attempt to make themselves look good. I’m sure that there were people at this very party who were like that, but unfortunately, the ones who were jealous were the only girls I could see.

  After telling Sondra, Kate and my mother that I need some air, they all declare they will accompany me to the bathroom.

  “You guys…I appreciate the sentiment but that is overkill,” I reply.

  “No way!” Sondra tells me.

  “Yeah,” my mother says, “this place is huge. You might get lost.”

  My mom had a point. However, I had a point too. “Yeah, and that’s probably why Priscilla Easterbrook put up signs pointing to the restroom.”

  My mother frowns. “Alright. Be back soon. Those cupcakes might not be here if you aren’t.”

  Sondra, Kate and I share a smile. Even if I am back soon, those cupcakes aren’t gonna be there with the way my mom’s been going at them.

  “See you soon,” I tell them, and start down the hall.

  This place is a maze. Even with all of the signs, I’m afraid of getting lost. Finally, I see a door at the end of the hall with the sign “Bathroom” pasted on it. I start towards it when I hear a snooty “Hey,” behind me.

  I turn slowly to find three bleached blonde women with arms crossed over their chests staring me down.

  Oh boy. I’d, unfortunately, been in this position before too. I vividly remember the day—and I vividly remember the bright red color of the dye—Kelsey Benedict had squirted onto the white shirt of my uniform. Oh, so sorry, she’d said in mock horror. I guess you’ll just have to go out and buy a new one. Wait a minute, you can’t afford a new one, can you? How about I give you one of mine? All you’ll have to do is stand up in class and tell everyone that you have oral herpes.

  I didn’t do it, of course.

  I didn’t get a new shirt, either, or tell anyone what Kelsey had done.

  Instead, I wore that stained shirt for two days until my mother bleached and washed it. I still wished mom hadn’t done that. I liked wearing my stained shirt because it was a visual reminder to Kelsey that she couldn’t get me down and I wouldn’t be brought down or cowed.

  Yeah, I had pride. Maybe I had a little too much pride. But so what? I defined who I was, not anyone else. Certainly not a bunch of stuck-up bullies.

  Yeah, these girls might have money, status and beauty, but boil it down, that’s what they were. Bullies.

  I cross my own arms over my chest. “Hi. I’m going to the bathroom. If you want to talk after I’m done, I’ll be at the party.”

  “Not so fast,” the girl in the middle says, stepping forward. “We want to say hello.”

  “I think we already did,” I tell her.

  “Oh yeah, that’s right,” she says, tapping her manicured fingernail on her bottom lip. “Do you remember who I am?”

  I shut my eyes for a minute. It starts with an S. Samantha, I think? Oh yeah. “Samantha Peabody,” I tell her. “Your father owns Peabody Construction.”

  “Yes, that’s right. And your father is a janitor,” she says condescendingly.

  I grit my jaw. She isn’t worth it, I remind myself. Let it go. But it�
�s hard when I want nothing more than to bitchslap that bitch’s face. No one disrespects my parents.

  Still, I’m not a child. I shouldn’t respond to these childish taunts. Also, I was in Priscilla Easterbrook’s home, and I wouldn’t do anything to disrespect my hostess.

  So I don’t say anything.

  Samantha looks back at her friends, grinning. Then, she steps forward and snatches my purse.

  “Hey!” I shout.

  “Oh,” she says, holding my purse above her head. “This is a baby shower. We’re going to play lame games later on, and one of them will probably be ‘what’s in my purse?’ Now, since you’re…of a different class…we need to make sure that there isn’t anything in here that will embarrass you.”

  I want to just snatch it back, but her friends are at her side. If I do, I might accidentally elbow one of them in the face. They’ll undoubtedly spin the situation to where I attacked them.

  Normally, I would have just gone to the bathroom and let them do whatever they wanted to it. There wasn’t much in there. Some baby safe herbal pain killers. One of Sondra’s amnesia billionaire romances I hadn’t finished yet. Tissues and baby wipes. A few panty liners. Some discount make-up I bought at the drug store. Basically, a lot of things I wouldn’t miss.

  Well, accept the amnesia billionaire romance. I’d just gotten to the part where the heroine had discovered that the hero had only married her because he wanted her money. But what she didn’t know that while that’s how the romance had started, he’d later fallen in love. He then kidnapped her so he could explain himself, and now that his totally convoluted plot for revenge had come out, she remembered that he was actually her stepbrother!

  Damn. I really wanted to finish that book. But what I wanted even more than that was the other thing in my purse: the lilac sapphire engagement ring.

  I hadn’t taken it off since Preston popped the question. I should have left it at home, but I was going to wear it with pride. Then, when I got to Priscilla Easterbrook’s door, I realized that she probably didn’t know yet and me flashing it in there was the worst way to tell her. So I slipped it into my purse.

  The purse that bitch was currently flinging around like a battle flag.

  “This is stupid,” I tell her. “Give it back.”

  “Oh, you want it back?” she asks. “Okay.”

  Well, that was easy.

  Then, she dumped the contents out on the floor.

  “Oh, oops!” she laughs.

  I curl my hands into fists and see red. Red like the vivid dye Kelsey sprayed all over my shirt.

  I shut my eyes, and then get on the floor. If the engagement ring fell out, I have to find that engagement ring.

  “Look at her, picking up trash. She’s so good at it. But I guess that’s to be expected. Your father is a janitor, so you should be used to picking up trash.”

  Alright, that is it. I know I should keep my mouth shut, but I just can’t. I glare up at her. “I feel sorry for you,” I tell her.

  “You feel sorry for me?” she asks dramatically.

  “Yeah. My father is a groundskeeper. He worked hard to give my brother and I would have every advantage he could. You don’t respect that.”

  “Whatever,” she scoffs, kicking a tube of lipstick over to me.

  I take the tube of lipstick into my fist. “You don’t honor hard work and sacrifice, and because of that, if push came to shove, you’d never be willing to work hard or sacrifice for another person…even if that person was your child.”

  Her eyes go dark as she peers down at me. “I don’t think you understand. I already have every advantage. When I have kids, I won’t have to do anything to provide for them.”

  “And that’s exactly the problem,” I continue. “People who aren’t willing to work hard and sacrifice for those they love don’t know the true meaning of love and family.”

  “Is this a lecture?” she sings. “Are you trying to lecture me? That’s so cute.”

  “I don’t know if ‘cute’ is the word I would use,” a voice behind us states.

  The girls whip around, shrieking as if a ghost had just appeared.

  “P-Priscilla Easterbrook!” Samantha stuttered. “Oh my…we didn’t realize you were there!”

  Priscilla Easterbrook raises a brow. “Given what I just saw, that doesn’t surprise me.”

  “We were just playing.” Samantha looks over her shoulder, back down at me, giving me a tight, desperate smile. “Right, Tachell?”

  I say nothing. Throughout my younger life, bullies always tried to get me to absolve them of any blame when they were caught. I refused to do that for them. However, I also wouldn’t revel in their failure. Samantha made their bed and she could lie in it. I go back to searching for the engagement ring.

  “You are my guests,” Priscilla Easterbrook tells them. “I invited you here to celebrate my grandchild. However, I can tell from your behavior that you carry no celebratory feelings in your heart, nor do you have any desire to be a gracious and respectful guest. So, I am going to ask you to leave. Now.”

  “No—we just—we were just—”

  Priscilla raises her hand, dismissing them. “Good day.”

  The girls are smart enough to realize they shouldn’t be told a third time. They take off down the hall without saying another word, leaving me alone with Priscilla Easterbrook.

  Oh shit, I think. I need to find that ring before she does!

  Priscilla Easterbrook crouches on the floor beside me. “Let me help you.”

  “No, that isn’t necessary—I mean, thank you, but—”

  “It is necessary,” Priscilla Easterbrook corrects. “You are my guest, and I allowed you to be abused in my home.”

  “They were being childish,” I tell her. Where is that damn ring!??!?

  “Even so, it should never have happened, and I am sorry.” She hands me my purse, then pauses. “Your toiletries have already been gathered. Are you looking for something else?”

  “Umm…”

  “Something like this?” she asks, holding out her hand.

  I glance over and see the ring, burning bright like a diamond encrusted secret.

  Oh shit.

  “My son gave this to you, didn’t he?” Priscilla Easterbrook continues.

  Well, I was caught, but I wasn’t gonna back down. “Yes, he did.”

  She looks at me another long moment. “You know, I owe you another apology. I allowed my own fears and prejudices to cloud my judgment when we first met, and because of this, I never gave you a chance to show me your true character.” She takes my hand and places the engagement ring in it. “My son has committed many indiscretions, but he has good judgment and a good heart. I should trust him more.”

  We both stand. She is completely poised, but I’m surprised to find I’m shaking. I put on my purse and open it, ready to stuff the ring back in.

  “What are you doing?” Priscilla Easterbrook asks.

  “I’m just, putting it away until after—”

  “Don’t.”

  I look up at her. “Don’t?”

  “Are you ashamed of my son’s love for you?” she asks.

  “Well, no—”

  “And are you ashamed of your love for him?” she interrupts.

  “Of course not—”

  “Then you wear that ring with pride,” she instructs me.

  I glance down the hall, thinking of all those women. “It’s going to cause quite a stir.”

  “Maybe, maybe not. But their petty opinions have no bearing on your love,” she smiles at me, eyes gleaming with a mischievous light. “So wear it, and if anyone has a problem with it, to hell with them.”

  Chapter 17

  It was a big step.

  Yeah, I know. Preston and I were getting married in a few months (it’s amazing how fast things started to move once Priscilla Easterbrook was on board). Moving in together shouldn’t make me feel this anxious, especially considering all the other things that would soon be
happening, but it did.

  It felt really big.

  My mom, Kate and I unpack. Sondra was tied up at the gallery, but promised to be here in a little bit. Reggie and Preston carry up boxes from downstairs. Preston carries out this task cheerily. Reggie glares at each box like they contain the bones of a sex demon Preston and I are going to assemble and summon in some sort of crazy orgiastic dark magic ceremony.

  Still, he won’t let any of the women touch a thing. It’s just not in his nature to make a woman do a job when an able-bodied man is nearby.

  “Why the hell are we even here, then?” my mom asks.

  Reggie just grunts in response and keeps carrying.

  I wonder, again, why we didn’t just hire someone to do all of this. Reggie and Preston were completely against it. “I can carry up all the boxes,” Preston had told me. Then, Reggie had hissed, “I can carry up more boxes than he can!”

  Oh boy, men were dumb. Especially men who wanted to prove their man powers.

  Still, Preston sure made a pretty picture. All this manual labor looked good on him. His powerful muscles were flexing with all this ox moving, and his casual clothes made him look approachable. Kind of like he was a freakishly hot delivery boy instead of the man who owned the building…

  “Ahem.”

  I look over at my brother, who looks like he knew exactly what kind of thoughts I was just having.

  Shit! I probably shouldn’t mentally undress my fiance in front of my brother. That was just going to cause problems, but it was also going to be hard when you had a fiance as hot as Preston.

  “I think you ladies should go do something while Preston and I finish bringing up the boxes,” he says. “Then, Preston and I can go out for a beer while you ladies organize.”

  Wow. Subtle Reggie.

  “Hey, I could go for a chai!” Kate pipes in.

  My mother sits on the black leather couch. “I’ll stay here and fold up some of your clothes, sweetie.”

  “What the hell, mom! You can’t do all this work!”

  She scowls and puts her hands on her hips. “I am your mother. I can do whatever I want. I want to make sure you’re settled in. Bring me a scone or something, and a coffee. I’ll take a break if I need to, but I want to make sure my little girl is doing alright.”