The Billionaire’s Risky Pregnancy

“You can add ten bucks to our tab for the delivery tip,” George said with a wink as he helped the fry boy place the box in a back seat. He touched Tasha’s hands and kissed her cheek.

“So home now?” he said.

“Promise me that you’ll be there on the baby’s first birthday,” she pleaded.

“Me and Zach,” he said. “Let’s get you back before the food gets cold.”

They parked in Smith’s driveway that was big enough for two cars and went in through the back. Settling on the floor of the great room before the HD set mounted on the wall, George unpacked the spoils of war and left her alone for one moment before he returned with ketchup and honey Dijon mustard.

“This has to be his,” George laughed.

“He likes it on his tuna,” Tasha said.

“What does that taste like?” he asked.

“Surprisingly good,” she admitted. “He likes to see me eat.”

“Nothing wrong with that.” Tasha nodded and dove into the nuggets. She had to smile at the extra barbecue sauce, and she dipped some fries into the mix and polished off an entire box of something close to chicken before sucking on one of the shakes and resting her head to the nearest cushion.

“It’ll be okay,” he promised as he rubbed her knee. “Once the baby is here, he’ll change his tune.”

“And if he doesn’t?” she nervously asked.

“Get the credit card number and come and find me.”

They spent the day pigging out and watching a marathon of NCIS. George commented on how fine DiNozzo was.

“And the man likes movies,” George beamed.

“He’s leaving the show,” Tasha said as her head started to grow heavy. “I like him, too. So I try not to think about it.” George settled her on the couch and draped a cashmere blanket over her body. She hardly slept as he cleaned up, and he left her with a light kiss and the promise that she could call him at any time or hour. The seconds seemed to stretch into an eternity as the great room grew darker, and she waited for the headlights to pass through the French doors. The room was totally dark when the light finally came, but she kept resting against the cushions when she heard his key in the door and his footsteps drawing closer.

“Tasha?”

Smith kept the lights off as he sat near her feet and rubbed her legs. She twitched under his touch and reached for his hand.

“I already ate,” she said. “Me and George had a big lunch.”

“I saw the overflow in the trash,” he said with a small look of disdain. Or was it concern? Did it even matter one way or the other? “You really think that binge eating is in the best interest of the baby?”

“It was a loaded day,” she said. “We went to the boutique. You’ll notice the charges when you check your statement.”

“Oh? Then were are…” Smith’s voice trailed off as he glanced around the great room before returning his gaze to hers. “So are all the goodies upstairs?”

“Not those kind of charges,” she confessed. “A couple had a baby right there on the spot.”

“Seriously?” he asked. As she nodded her head, Tasha shifted away from him, her hands on her tummy as she looked down at her feet and sighed heavily.

“Helped the staff with the clean-up cost,” she said. “I… I just wanted to do something.”

“That’s sweet of you,” Smith responded as he tried to fold one arm around her shoulders. She tensed under his touch, and continued to avoid his eyes as she tapped her toes to the ground.

“Tasha?” he pressed. “Why are you being like this? Are… did it give you second thoughts or something?” At first the words sounded like gibberish, and she did a double take before realizing that he was in earnest.

“So it’s like that then,” she said. “What do you want me to say here? That I wish it hadn’t happened. Or that I should what? Get rid of the problem?” As soon as she uttered the sentence, Tasha longed to take it back.

“I’m… I’m sorry,” she said, stumbling over her words as he stood up from the sofa and abandoned her for his office. Her body felt heavy from the pig out she rapidly regretted as she followed after him and caught his arm at the end of the hallway.

“Smith, I—”

“Don’t,” he hissed as she shrugged her off and faced her. His green eyes seemed as if they could slice her soul in two, and Tasha waited to take her medicine, wishing that he would surround her face with his hands. Seize her shoulders. Just make some kind of contact.

But the man denied her his touch.

“It was an honest question. And you just had to hit below the belt.”

“I said that I was—”

“I’m not the one freaking out because I witnessed a birth,” he continued. “Been there and done that, sweetheart. Maybe you’re not as excited for this as you’d have me believe.” A switch clicked in her brain, and she pushed her fingers into his chest, stronger than she realized as she backed him to the wall. Smith tried to swat her back and finally captured her wrists as her breath heaved and her eyes shimmered with furious tears.

“Why shouldn’t I be overjoyed?” she spat. “You’ve been treating me like a border for all this time. You never come to bed. Send me shopping with George and your fucking unlimited plastic. And you wonder why I’m unhappy?”

That silenced him, and Tasha wanted an argument. Sure it might rip his wounds wide open. But if he would just talk to her…

“I have work to do,” he said. “And you obviously need to get some rest.” Hiding away in his office before she could engage him a fight Tasha was left alone.

“Fine!” she cried through the closed door. “Just don’t expect me to hang around for you.”

And she started to pack.