Baby Daddy (Bad Boy Billionaires Book 4)

By: Jessa James

Jeff’s words were still ringing in my head - He’s never wanted anything as much as he wants kids. I could almost feel the touches, kisses, and pleasure shared between Wyatt and me as they began to erase. They didn’t count; they meant nothing to him except trying to produce a child. Maybe another woman would be ecstatic to find out that her lover wanted a child, but I wanted more than a baby daddy. I wanted a man. I wanted a partner. I wanted a husband. I shook myself roughly, refusing to let the tears fall again.

As I rocked myself gently on my porch swing, I thought about what the weather would be like in nine months. Hot, probably. Sunny, slightly muggy. The baby would have to wear just his or her diaper most of the time. The thought made me smile. Who didn’t love a cute baby butt? As I was considering all the things I’d have to buy for myself and the baby, I heard a vehicle approaching from around the corner.

A red SUV pulled into the driveway - the last red SUV I wanted to see at the moment. Wyatt, my brain thought, and my body responded. My hands, of their own volition, began smoothing my hair. My spine straightened, my breasts came to attention. My brain screamed at me to get a grip, but my body just didn’t care. My body wanted him. My brain did too, but it was smarter than that. I stood as Wyatt slammed the car into park and basically leaped from the driver’s seat.

He looks upset, I noted as I moved to the edge of the porch. I put my tea down and stared squarely at his approach. His black suit was cut perfectly, the cuffs on his pants stylishly pinned. His combed-back hair made him look like a ‘50s bad boy without all the grease and God he was just so sexy. I bet our baby is going to be beautiful. The thought comes unbidden and my chest tightened. That’s probably all he wanted. A beautiful baby to call his own.

I shucked off the urge to cry and glared at Wyatt. As he approached the foot of the stairs, I realized he was glaring back. He’s furious, but what the hell does he have to be upset about?

“Why the hell did you run away, Tori?” Wyatt demanded, his arms out wide in frustration/ His ocean blue eyes were flat, almost dead. I felt bad for making him feel this way, but couldn’t bring myself to explain.

“Tori! Talk to me!” he continued to demand and he put his foot up on the first step. The encroachment on my territory stiffened my backbone and I said, “Wyatt, please just leave.” He looked slightly discouraged but not beaten as he met my gaze. He visibly softened and lowered his hands, placating me.

“Jeff told me what he said, and Jeff’s an idiot. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about and I’m here to clear the air. Can we talk inside, Tori?” I hesitated as he puts his foot on the second step but then he added, softly, “Please?”

I went a little soft at the request and stood back to gesture at the door. After you, I thought and Wyatt moved past me to hold open the door. Like the gentleman he was. Once we were seated inside, him on my grandmother’s hand-me-down love seat and me on the larger, comfier gray sofa, we simply stared at each other. He looked downright delicious, his slightly gray button shirt doing wonders for the broad angles of his chest and arms. I looked like shit, wrapped in an old tribal-designed poncho and my favorite pair of stretch leggings. I wasn’t planning on having company, I defended against myself.

“Well… the floor is yours, Wyatt. What did you come here to say to me?” I sat back, trying to look detached and uncaring. He seemed perturbed by my nonchalance, but cleared his throat.

“I know Jeff told you that I wanted a family more than I wanted a woman. I know he told you a bit about my past and that he said all I’ve ever wanted was to be a father. But Jeff was wrong.” Wyatt stole a glance up at me, hoping to see change in my expression but I gave him nothing to work with.

He continued, “Of course, I do want kids. Very much so. But I’ve never just wanted to be alone when I raise a family. I want everything that family is - waking up next to the person I love every day. Watching the woman I love grow bigger with our child. Being there when she’s in labor. Being there for the first steps. Being there as we grow old together and our child grows up. That’s what I meant when I told Jeff I wanted a family. I just never articulated that because there was no need.”

I felt the tears welling up in my eyes, a small spark of hope renewing in my chest. If he wants a family, does that mean he wants… me?

“Tori, I… I’ve wanted a family - the real thing - since I laid eyes on you. The whole shebang. I want to fight with you, I want to order takeout and snuggle on the couch with you. I want to rub your feet when you get pregnant. I want to be the one to hold you tight if you don’t get pregnant. I want to support you in your career. I want to watch you get undressed every night. I want to fall asleep between your thighs. I want to be yours. And I want you to be mine.”

He was staring at me, his eyes shifting from the floor to meet my gaze. I couldn’t even say anything; I didn’t know which words would mean anything in that moment. So we just stared at each other over my ancient coffee table, our eyes caressing each other softly.

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