Page 55 of Billionaire's Accidental Marriage
And instead of taking me back to my apartment, Michael whisked me back to his place.
I didn’t mind it, either. I enjoyed being in his house. Sure, it was massive, but it was also quiet. Peaceful. Serene. Like the city couldn’t get to us all the way out here. I enjoyed it that way. I enjoyed gazing out over his immaculate, flourishing garden and watching the deer scamper in and out of the woods as they came to graze on his bright-green grass. His entire estate felt like one big secret garden. Like we had stepped into some mystical portal where time stood still, and we were the only two who existed on the face of the planet. And as he walked me outside and helped me sit in the lounge chair overlooking his fresh fruits and vegetables, a thought occurred to me—a thought that changed the entire scenario we had found ourselves in.
I could raise a child here.
Hell, I could raise multiple children here.
“Can I get you anything, beautiful?” Mike kissed my cheek as he crouched beside me, but I didn’t turn to face him.
“Do you keep this garden year-round?”
I felt his gaze studying the profile of my face. “I do, yes.”
I nodded slowly. “Is there anything back in those woods that you own?”
He sighed as he contemplated my question. “There’s a couple of small lakes, I believe. I know there’s a massive creek that spans the length of the entire piece of property I own as well. Why?”
My head tilted off to the side. “Have you ever thought about building a little getaway cabin or something near one of those lakes?”
“The thought never occurred to me, no.”
Then, I turned to look at him. “We should think about doing that.”
His eyes lit up with hope. “We?”
“Yeah,weshould.”
I saw how much he wanted to jump for joy, but he swallowed hard, probably to keep himself in check.
“We can definitely draw up plans to do something like that, beautiful.”
I smiled softly. “If you have some lemonade, I’d love some.”
He stood to his feet and kissed the top of my head. “I don’t, but it won’t take long for me to whip some up. Give me ten or so minutes.”
And as he backtracked into the house, I thought about his restaurants. My boutiques. Our weird-ass relationship and the marriage that we didn’t know was a marriage until the next day. I thought about our friendship and how many years it had spanned. I thought about all of the things he had selflessly done for me without batting an eyelash. And the more I thought about what our life together could look like, the more I smiled and the more my heart filled my utter, speechless joy.
Because I found myself liking what I saw inside my head.
20
Michael
The day passed by without another word uttered between the two of us. We sat outside together and enjoyed the lemonade I had made, and when we got hungry, I placed orders for food, so neither of us had to deal with cooking. It was the most relaxing day I’d ever had in my entire life, and that included all of the tropical vacations and mountain getaways that had made up my family vacations as a child.
And when it was finally time to go to bed, Maggie didn’t ask me to take her home. Instead, she asked if I had a shirt that she could borrow to sleep in. Then, she climbed into bed with me and curled up at my side. And after, she held me tight all night and fell asleep with her head against my chest, listening to the beating of my heart.
I almost couldn’t sleep. I was so fucking happy to have her there. However, the comfort of her scent lulled me under, and I slept as soundly as I’d ever remembered in my entire life. And when my eyes fell open, beckoned by the sunlight streaming through the windows, the first thing I heard was the honking snores of Maggie.
Oddly enough, the sound was music to my ears as well.
I’d heard stories from my father regarding things he loved about my mother that always made me wrinkle my nose. Like, how she smelled after not showering for a day. Or how she’d always hold in her sneezes until it got to be too much and she had to squeal in order to get it out. One of my favorite stories my father told me one day was about how my mother used to shower. Dad adored the way she shook her hair out like “a wet dog after a rainstorm.” I had never understood why he found those things endearing… until now.
“This is the life,” I whispered to myself.
Maggie shifted away from me, rolling onto her side as she tried to reposition herself. And just like she had stolen my heart, she stole my independence as well because the second she rolled over, I moved with her before my hand slid against the small paunch under her belly button.
I closed my eyes as her snores filled the room again, and I imagined what her body would look like as she swelled with my child. How her tits would fill with milk and how her curves would blossom into graceful handfuls before overflowing through the slats of my fingers. I thought about all of the foot massages she would need before my hands worked their way up her aching legs and settled between her swollen thighs.
