Page 59 of The Runaway Billionaire's Inconvenient Baby
“Ominous.” He frowns.
“It’s nothing ominous, really,” I laugh. “It’s big news, and I’m not certain how to tell you.”
“Just say it,” he says, his gaze coming to settle on my face, our eyes meeting. “I don’t think we can have any more surprises today.”
“Well… this house of yours that you’re planning to build…” I take a deep breath.Justsayit,I command in my mind.Justsayit!“I hope you’re going to have space for a nursery.” The words slip out, hanging between us. No going back now. “Because it’s not going to be just you and me.”
“What?” he says, his face crumpling in confusion.
“I… I’m pregnant,” I say, sparing him the pain of having to use his own brain to decode my words. “I’m pregnant. With your baby.”
“You’rewhat?” he says, his face suddenly lighting up in a grin. “You’re pregnant with… I’m going to be… we’re going to… oh, my God!” He lets out a whoop, picks me up in his arms and spins me around. I squeal as he does, gripping onto him for dear life, my heart leaping with the same joy as his. “We’re going to be a family,” he gasps as he puts me down. “A real family.”
“A real family,” I echo. “And you do want?—”
“Of course Iwant,” he interrupts before my doubt can even take shape. “I want you, Billie, more than I can tell you. I want our baby. I want us to be happy. I let you down once, and I’m going to do everything I can to never let that happen again. Our baby is going to grow up on this island, just like you always dreamed. We’re going to be happy.”
“Happy,” I echo, tears filling my eyes for the thousandth time today.
“Happy,” he repeats. He lets his hand come to my belly and embraces me once again, squeezing me so tightly that I feel like he might never let go. If he never did, I don’t think I’d complain.
Then he releases me and grins sheepishly. “But for right now… well, I have all my stuff on the yacht, but I don’t have a place to stay. And I never want to go back to the inn again. I was hoping that, uh…” He leaves the question hanging, but it’s obvious what he wants.
I laugh and take his hand. “Of course, you can stay at mine. I don’t know if we’ll have space for all your stuff, though.”
“Won’t know until we try,” he says with a grin and a hopeful look in his eyes that I can’t resist.
“All right.” I laugh. “Let’s go and try.”
With that, he squeezes my hand again, and we head back into town on the island that is going to be our home for the rest of our lives.
EPILOGUE — 18 MONTHS LATER
BILLIE
“And do you, Billie Finch, take Jacob Ford to be your lawfully wedded husband?”
“I do,” I say. Jacob, the great softy he is, has started tearing up. I’d laugh if I wasn’t so close to tears myself. It is so fitting that he’s almost crying on our wedding day.
The wind whips along the hillside, and wisps of my hair keep getting free from the bobby pins and hair spray that are failing in their effort to force it down. I don’t care, though. All the pictures of this day are going to look perfect. We’re outside. It’s windy. I don’t mind if that shows. Jacob’s hair is blowing around too, the flowers in his lapel being battered by the breeze.
It was my idea to have an outdoor wedding. And despite our weather challenges, I’m not regretting it. The sun is shining. Jacob looks his usual handsome self. And in the crowd, our beautiful baby boy keeps babbling away like he’s happy that his parents are proving their commitment to each other in this ceremony.
When I used to dream of a wedding, it was just like this. But also, nothing like this. I never managed to get the magic right. I never expected that it would feel this good.
Our son is sitting with my mother, who’s been crying since this morning. I tried to get her to stop, but she keeps telling me she’s too happy to ever stop crying. Willow spent ages on my makeup, and every time I see my mom, tears threaten to overrun my eyes and smudge her work.
Willow’s there too in the crowd, grinning like she always knew this was the future. And she did. Ever since we were young, I’ve been a romantic and she’s been telling me that a day like this would come, one full of joy. Everyone we know and love is here. Our whole island family.
It’s perfect.
“I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride,” the priest proclaims.
I look into Jacob’s eyes and grin as I see them swimming with tears. “I love you,” I whisper before reaching up for him and pressing my lips against his. He kisses me back, smiling into my lips, salty with tears.
The assembled crowd launches into applause, and we break away, laughing, grinning, hands entwined as we walk back down the aisle. The band plays and our friends whoop in joy, and I’m struggling to think of a moment that could be more perfect than this.
As we move away from the crowd, we have a second to ourselves before Willow catches up. “How are you feeling, big man?” she says.
