Page 90 of Forking the Billionaire

It seemed everyone was content to let my romantic ineptitude slide. I appreciated that. My failings weren’t supposed to be the focus of this week.

As the day went on, a pull kept me from feeling completely a part of the activities. I participated in the guided tour throughthe tropical forest to a hidden waterfall. Juno snapped pictures. I smiled and sat on the rocks at the edge of the water. We shared lunch and dinner. I ate it without really tasting anything.

And my mind remained tethered on the one person who wasn’t here with us and should have been.

I will be here for you, Bramble. Always.

My words repeated in my head. Why’d I have to go and say that? Why make a promise I couldn’t keep?

I was supposed to leave the island in two days. But she would come home to Epiphany eventually, wouldn’t she? Of course she would. She couldn’t have a baby here, all on her own.

And, this point couldn’t be emphasized enough,Esme was having a baby.

Even if she came home with us after the trip was over, what would that mean? I could have a chance with her, sure, maybe. But her life was about to turn upside down.

She was havinganother man’sbaby.

And if I actually dated her, what happened when that infant turned into a toddler, then a kid? What happened when the little person started looking up at me as more than his mom’s friend.

What if he looked at me as a father?

The thought made my entire body freeze mid-step in a terrifying choke hold.

CouldIreally offer anything to a kid? After the father I had? Unlikely.

I was getting way ahead of myself with this whole line of thought anyway. Esme hadn’t asked me for anything. Not yet, at least. What did the future matter when we didn’t actually have a present?

We were screwing around. Having fun. That’s all I ever did, and she knew what kind of man I was. She’d called me a womanizer, after all.

She knew I wasn’t father material. I could never be the man she deserved, the one her kid deserved.

My chest felt tight. I needed to clear my mind. I needed a way to reset.

I needed a real shower, not just a quick clean-off in the cold outdoors. I needed hot water. I needed my own soap, not a generic bar from the resort store.

Jules hadn’t been around anyway, so what would it hurt to go back to my room and do just that? I’d pack up the belongings that hadn’t gone missing with my luggage, then I’d suck it up and ask someone if I could stay with them. Two nights sleeping on the beach was enough.

I’d ask Oscar if I could crash on his couch. He’d understand, or he’d tell me to get lost. Either way, he wouldn’t say yes just to humor me the way I would if I were in his position.

On my way, I stopped and checked with Stan at the desk to see if they’d had any luck finding my bag. They had not.

I went up the elevator and headed down the hall toward my room. I opened the door.

Sounds assaulted my ears—wet slapping, guttural howls, honking like that of a bike horn. But the sight—that would be searing into my retinas forever.

Jules was on all fours, a tiny saddle affixed to her back with a stuffed parrot rocking back and forth in the seat. Behind her, Chester dug his hands into her hips and thrust.

Jules’s eyes were shut as she fisted the blankets. The mattress slammed into the wall.

Chester wore nothing but an orange pirate hat and fake beard. Both appeared to be made of cheddar.

Where was the honking coming from?

“Arrr,” Chester said. “Thar she blows.”

There were no words. My mind blanked in shock and horror and maybe a touch of morbid fascination. It was impossible to blink, to move, to breathe.

Chester’s gaze snapped to mine. “Aye, matey. Want to join?”

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