Page 16 of Billionaire's Frenemy

“I’m taking you to fucking Switzerland!” he exclaimed. “Jesus, I must have been really drunk. But you agreed?”

I shrugged. “Seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“Don’t think I don’t know why, brat.” He pointed vaguely at me. “I know you.”

“Hey, I’m not the one who was swilling whiskey last night.”

“You better not have been. You’ve got my kid in there.”

“That remains to be seen,” I snarked.

“You and I both know it is. And I’m going to be there every fucking second—don’t you try and stop me. Ballgames, dances, wedding, whatever. We don’t even know if it’s a boy or a girl yet, but it doesn’t matter to me. I already have more feelings in the tip of my pinky for that little bean than your father had for anyone his entire life. So don’t you make a mistake about that.”

Tears pricked my eyes at his adamant declaration.

“Little bean,” I whispered. I called the baby that, too.

“Aw, fuck,” he swore, tearing off his seatbelt. He stumbled across to me, scooped me up then sat with me on his lap. “Ididn’t mean to make you cry. I’ve never,everwanted to make you cry—well, except back when I was a crappy six-year-old maybe, and even then, not really.”

“You’re really cute when you babble,” I said, leaning into his chest.

“I just want to do the right thing with you.”

I closed my eyes, fighting a tremor. My fingers fisted on the edge of his rumpled suit coat. “Don’t say that.”

“Not like that. I don’t mean it that way. Fuck, if you think I’ll marry you just for the kid, you’re wrong. When I get married, it will be because of love. Do you understand me?”

I shook my head. Then nodded, sadness swamping me. My thoughts instantly went to him finding another woman and falling for her. Pain sliced into my chest so deep that I almost gasped. Was that how he’d felt when he thought I was with another man?

“I’m sorry I let you think it was someone else,” I sniffled into his shirt. His hand buried in my hair, and he cradled me there.

His chest lifted as he sighed. “Yeah, that fucking sucked.”

“If you want to try to figure this out, see if we can stand each other at close quarters for more than a couple hours at a time, I’m willing to try,” I said.

“You were the one who always ran away.”

“Jamie…”

“I have my work cut out for me, don’t I?” he muttered.

“I think we both do.”

Jamie and I knew how to fight. We knew how to screw. Now, we had to define what else we had between us.

Eight

Jameson

Fucking Switzerland? This was why I didn’t drink.

Willow’s stomach grumbled, and she giggled into my chest. I was still holding her on my lap and didn’t have any immediate plan to let her go.

“Kathy!” I called out to our stewardess.

“Yeah, boss,” she said, walking over with a smile. “What can I get you?”

“Don’t do that,” I said, rolling my eyes.

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