Page 30 of The Runaway Billionaire's Inconvenient Baby
“Have you?”
He nods slowly. “I’ve never told anyone this, but yeah, I always thought it would be great to have a family. I guess I’ve never had enough time for other people to make that happen.”
“It’s not too late,” I say, trying to comfort him as well as quench the own feeling in my chest, which aches for him in sorrow that he’s been closed off for so long. He’s never acted on his dreams of family. Now he thinks he can’t.
He shrugs. “I think it is for me.” His face falls as he says it, his breath shaky as he swallows before forcing a smile on his face. “But it’s okay. I’ve been successful in other ways. Besides, who would want me?”
My mouth opens and closes again. What do I say to that?I’m sure someone would? I can imagine you with a family? Don’t give up hope?All of those sound like empty platitudes.
I would have a family with you.The thought comes out of nowhere and completely blindsides me. It’s nonsense. I don’t feel that way about him. I must be hormonal or something. That’s the only reason a thought like that would even ever occur to me.
Me and Jacob are not compatible in any way. He loves his work too much. And I love this island. Our goals are different.
When I have kids, they’ll grow up on this island. That’s a fact.
A long, awkward moment of silence passes between us. Then he reaches out for a corn on the cob and grins, though the sadness behind his eyes doesn’t totally lift. “Well, thanks for the food. I’m going to see what else there is to eat.”
“Great,” I say quietly, but even as I serve other people, his comments still linger in the back of my mind.
Family. Love. Kids. All things I never expected from him. All things that have pulled the rug from under my feet and knocked me down, breathless.
All things that are trying to open a door inside me that I don’t want to look through. I close the door tightly and force myself to stop thinking about him.
It doesn’t work.
CHAPTER 16
JACOB
By the time the grilling stops, one of the locals has set up some fire pits and is handing out marshmallows and graham crackers to anyone who wants them. At first, I refuse, but then Billie walks over and calls me a spoilsport for not wanting to make s’mores.
That’s all it takes to change my mind.
And here I was, thinking I was a resolute kind of person. Somehow, when faced with Billie, it’s both impossible to back down and impossible to say no.
We head over to one of the fire pits, the one furthest from any of the grills. It’s quiet now; all the kids have gone home. After the food, parents packed up, ready to take their little ones home. There’s only so much sun a tiny body can take.
It’s still blissfully warm, made hotter by the fire, but the beating of my heart doesn’t help either. I don’t know why, but all day every time I’ve thought of Billie, my heart rate has increased.
I say I don’t know, but I’d have to be an idiot not to understand a simple truth of human biology. Understanding it and acceptingit are two different things, though, and I’m not ready to accept those implications just yet.
We sit down next to each other and start assembling our crackers. The couple who were already sitting there ignore me and turn to Billie. “You did a great job today, Billie.”
“Thanks, Charlie,” she says with her trademark happy smile. “That means a lot.”
“Manage to persuade your pet billionaire not to sell us all out yet?”
“I…” Billie glances at me, then looks back at the couple. “I don’t know. I’m working on it.”
“Take it from me,” says the other person, a woman with long brown hair and earrings that dangle all the way down to her shoulders. She stares me down uncomfortably. “The people of this town are more stubborn than anyone you’ll have ever met. Giving in gracefully would be easier.”
“I’m starting to see that,” I say, trying to keep my tone light and amused.
“So that’s a promise, then?” asks Charlie. “You’re going to leave us alone?”
Words fail me and I sit there, mute like a fool, my mouth open, my tongue heavy. “I’m starting to see what’s special about Havenridge,” I say as diplomatically as I can.
“If it were up to me,” says the woman, barely looking up from the fire, “I’d have had you thrown out the second you walked in.”
