Page 11 of British Billionaire
“Fuck the job.” He pushes the wet, sweat-ridden hair out my face and kisses me on the lips passionately. “You're not going to work for me. You're going to be my wife.”
Epilogue
Poppy
Seven Years Later…
“Mommy, mommy! Come quick. Olivia’s caught a frog.”
“That’s nice, honey.” I look out the window at the pouring rain. The idea of getting wet sends a shiver down my spine. I only had my hair done yesterday. This will definitely ruin it.
“Come on!” Max, my eldest son sticks his bottom lip out and puts his hands on his hips. He’s a sassy one and he knows exactly how to twist me around his tiny, adorable finger. “Quickly, mommy! It’s a frog!”
I hate to tell him I don’t care about frogs. “Okay, just one minute. Let mommy get an umbrella.”
“Urgh.” He makes a disgusted sound like I just recommend he live off broccoli and cabbage for a month.
When I’ve found my umbrella, he takes my hand and we rush out the door.
My feet squelch in the mud. I’m wearing white running shoes. Now they’re brown. And soaking wet. I’ll probably have to throw them away. Maybe donate them to a local charity. Although, even a homeless person probably wouldn’t be seen dead in them after I’m finished.
We traipse up a little hill at the back of our garden. It's west of the castle, towards the sea. We follow a small path that leads through a thick patch of trees.
I wonder what in the heck Max and Olivia were doing out this far without supervision. They were meant to be spending the day with Jacob while I finished some business stuff.
Then, suddenly, we arrive at a large clearing and I realize I’ve been tricked.
“A frog, huh?” I smile.
Max runs to the huge pagoda in the middle of the clearing and wraps his arms around Jacob's legs.
“Did I do good, daddy?” he says.
Jacob picks him up and tickles him. “You did perfect, son.”
I join them, happy to be out of the rain.
“What’s all this?” I ask.
Jacob puts Max down and pulls me close. The feel of his body pressed against me has me wishing we were alone. And in bed.
“You think I’d forget our anniversary?” he says.
“Our anniversary?” I do a quick bit of mental arithmetic and decide I don't know what the heck he’s talking about. “Our anniversary isn’t for another four months.”
“That’s ourweddinganniversary,” he says. “Today is the anniversary of the very first day we met.”
I put my hand on the back of his head and pull his lips down for a kiss.
“Yuck!” Olivia and Max both shout at the same time.
This is so like Jacob. He’s always thinking up romantic ways to surprise me and show me how much he loves me.
I look over at the table waiting for us. Our youngest son, Codey, is asleep in his cot by the table. He’s only eight months old.
“Is that what I think it is?”
“That depends…” Jacob lets go of me and lifts one of the lids from the trays. It’s a massive platter of BBQ smoked ribs. My mouth instantly starts to water.
