The Billionaire’s Surprise Baby by Lisa Kaatz
Nate
Company parties are bullshit. Always. Which is why I've never had any.
Okay, the ones I throw at my house don't really count. They're not on company time. I don't use company funds to purchase liquor. Those are just house parties where some of my staff happen to be invited.
Same with the getaways to Las Vegas.
Don't judge.
Company parties are bullshit because I've been to them before, for other companies I worked for before I started my own thing. Nobody ever wants to be at them. They're always boring because you can't dance to fun songs, and you can't have more than three drinks without HR inviting you to their office the next morning for a "conversation."
So when I started my own company I vowed not to do the damned things. No company parties. Instead, I give my staff a fat bonus to celebrate the end of the year, and over the summer the whole office shuts down for two weeks in a row so that we can all fuck off to the beach and do whatever we want. Without a boss breathing down our necks and without HR spying on us from the corner and counting how many margaritas we've had.
Not that that's happened to me or anything.
Jax Adler, however, seems to love company parties. Not just the normal stuff, either, like cake and ice-cream in the break room for people's birthdays, or some annual Christmas party that's depressing as fuck.
No, he has a party for damn near everything, it seems.
So when he mentions the Thanksgiving dinner to me, I'm caught off guard.
Seriously? We're going to provide Thanksgiving dinner to our staff every year? Do you know how many turkeys that is?
A lot.
I'm not a fan of this little tradition but I figure, if I don't want to be the most hated man to have ever merged with Adler Co, I should probably keep my hands off of changing their annual Thanksgiving party. I might not like it, but it seems like a lot of people do. Even my employees are excited about it, talking about recipes for the pie baking contest and shit.
God.
Tonight is the night and although I've reached out to Sydney about a hundred times over text since hanging out with her and her kid, she hasn't been replying consistently. And when she replies, her messages are short. One word, two words. No emojis.
It's like we never shared any kind of connection last time we saw each other. But I know I didn't just imagine that. The way she smiled at me like I was some kind of hero of hers. The way that she looked at me, it was like I was somehow the solution to all of her problems, like she was seeing some kind of heavenly vision.
And me? Well I felt the sparks too. And I felt my cock get hard every time she looked at me. It's weird, hanging out with her and still feeling that spark, still wanting her body. She ran down the hallway with her top off and those perfect tits bouncing and despite being covered in baby puke at the time, I wanted her.
The mental image hasn't worn off since, either. If anything I'm angry with myself for not sticking around. For not reaching out and squeezing those perfect tits over her clothes and throwing her over the counter and taking her.
Maybe it was a mistake to cut her loose the first time around. And I know it'll never be the way it was before again. Things are more complicated now. She's got a kid. She'll always be looking for that guy, the one who can fill the void in her life and in Thomas's.
How can I be that guy, when I've barely got my shit together myself? Sure, I learned how to make a bottle and I can rock the little guy to sleep. But babies grow up and become boys. They become teenagers, even. I'm not the kind of guy that a boy should look to as a role model.
And at the end of the day, I know I'm not good enough for Sydney either.
I know that.
But I still can't stop myself from going over to her apartment the day of the Thanksgiving party to see her. Unannounced. Again.
I ring the bell.
"Again?" Sydney sighs when she answers the door.
She's wearing a slinky black dress that hugs her curves with a neckline that leaves little to the imagination. I resist the urge to lick my lips. Her cleavage is right there, like she's begging me to reach out and touch her. The neck of that dress is so low cut. It wouldn't take much to free her tits from it and devour them.
"I have a guest right now," Sydney says, as though reading my mind.
She crosses her arms over her chest, pushing her breasts up even more. Is she doing this on purpose? She has to be. She's just fucking with me at this point, right?
"That's fine," I say. "I just wanted to come by and check on you. You didn't reply to my last message."
"Last night was...rough," she sighs. "Thomas wasn't feeling well."
"Is he okay?"
"He's alright," she says. "His fever finally broke and he's sleeping really well right now. Still, I'm a little nervous about leaving him alone while he's sick..."
"Oh, don't worry about it!"
A short brunette appears behind her, putting a hand on Sydney's shoulder.
"I've got this - I'm a nurse, for god's sake. Thomas will be fine and you deserve a night out, Momma. Oh - who's this?"
Her brown eyes are eyeing me suggestively. I grin.
"Nate Madison," I say, extending a hand to her. She shakes it.
"Oooh, the one and only," she says, winking at Sydney. "Well come in. You both look terrific."
I step inside the apartment past a Sydney who looks like she's not sure she wants to let me in. What the hell? What happened to our connection?
"So he had a fever?" I ask.
"Just a little one," she says. "He's never been sick before though. And he wouldn't sleep, he was so miserable."
"Poor guy," I agree. "You know, if you ever want some help with stuff like that I'm just a phone call away."
Saying this makes something change in Sydney's face. Like I've said something wrong. She frowns and looks away.
"This is Allison," she says, gesturing to the brunette who is now darting around the kitchen, busying herself with a pile of vegetables on the counter and a pot of boiling water on the stove. "She's my..."
"All purpose helper," she finishes brightly. "Nanny, housekeeper, you name it."
"I thought you didn't want a nanny," I say to Sydney.
"She comes over once or twice a week to help me catch up," Sydney says. "Or when there's some kind of baby related crisis and I don't want to bother Ayla. It's just nice to have someone experienced around to help out. Without my mom around and..."
She drifts off.
"Well, I doubt I know as much as Allison and I'm also not a nurse," I say. "But the offer still stands. You can call me, you know. Or at least let me know what's going on instead of ignoring my texts. Please."
Why the hell do I think I'm entitled to ask for this from her? Why do I care? I sound like I think I'm her husband or something.
Sydney Adler does things to me.
"You look nice," Sydney says, ignoring my statement about texting me in the future and instead changing the subject.
I glance down. I'm wearing a tuxedo. Another reason to hate these company parties; they're black tie events.
"So do you," I reply darkly.
Allison has her back turned now so I don't even try to hide the fact that I'm drinking in that dress and her curves.
Sydney bites her lip.
"I'm glad to see you," she says. "Although speaking of messages, I wish you would text me before you show up unannounced."
"If I did that, you wouldn't let me in," I say. "You'd turn me away or ignore my knock at the door."
She doesn't deny it.
"Why are you here?"
"I wanted to see you," I reply.
It's the truth. And beyond that simple explanation,. I don't have any other reason. Why am I here? I don't fucking know. Why can't I stay away from Sydney Adler? I wish I understood it. She draws me to her like a moth to a flame and I wish I could break the spell she has me under so I could continue living my damned life.
But I can't. And breaking up didn't help either. Ever since the night that I said goodbye and walked away, it's like her hold on me only grew in power. She has no idea how much she disrupted when she came into my life, and into my bed.
And now she's got a baby with some other guy. A fact that fucking tears me up. Maybe I don't want kids, but I sure as hell don't want her to have kids with some other fucker. Better to have kids with me. I want all of Sydney. Even her babies. If only because I can't stand the idea of someone else having that privilege and not even appreciating it. To abandon her when she needed someone the most.
"It's actually good that you're here," she says in a low voice. "Because I need to talk to you about something serious."
"Yeah?" I ask. "What about? Is this why you've been ignoring me?"
"I haven't been - " Sydney sighs. "Yes, I guess so. It's not really something that's easy to talk about over the phone and I was trying to figure out how best to tell you. Come on - follow me. Let's go to my bedroom."
I raise a brow suggestively.
"To talk," she says, rolling her eyes.
I follow her down the hall to her bedroom and admire the way her hips sway from side to side in the clingy black dress. Her ass looks amazing and it takes everything in me not to reach out and grab a fistful of it. Or spank it. Or both.
Sydney used to love that. Would she let me get away with it now?
Maybe after we get this super serious conversation out of the way. And I still haven't been able to find out what kind of underwear she likes to wear these days. What kind does she wear under a dress like this? It's so thin and tight, it would be impossible for the lines not to show. Maybe she's not wearing anything under it...
Fuck, I need to get a grip.
She leads me to her bedroom and invites me to sit on the bed next to her. Her face is all worry and fear.
"What's wrong?" I ask, settling next to her.
"It's....it's so hard to talk about this," she says. "Nate, I really appreciate how supportive you've been lately. I don't know...um, I guess it was unexpected. We didn't leave on good terms and I never thought you'd ever want to come by and help me out with all of the boring baby stuff that I do these days."
"It's not boring," I reply.
She smiles.
"Well, a lot of people think it's boring," she says. "I can understand how you might think so too. I mean, you just don't really seem like the kind of guy who would enjoy staying in and looking after a baby instead of going out and...doing more exciting things."
She's referring to the partying. And the women. And the drinking.
"Men can change, Sydney," I say.
"But why now?" Sydney whispers. "Why now, after you've seen me with another man's child? How do I know this is real? I feel like you only want me now because you think you can't have me. That's how it always was, Nate. As soon as I started to get closer to you, you'd run away. But if I backed off, you'd chase me again. It was so confusing. And now..."
"I know how it was before," I say. "And maybe you don't have any reason to believe I'm different now. That's why I told you, I'll prove it to you over time. And we can start off by being friends. Although I think you should know that I want so much more than that, Sydney. I don't think I can handle being just friends with you."
"I know," she laughs. "You're not very good at hiding your...impulses."
She gestures to her cleavage and then to my cock.
"That's not my fault," I say. "I'm only a man."
"Well just friends or not," she says. "I don't really...I don't understand your motives, Nate. I don't get it. Why now? In these circumstances, of all things? You told me you would rather die than be a father."
"Surely I didn't say that," I say.
Sydney looks at me and for the first time I see the tears in her eyes that are threatening to spill over.
"Fuck," I say. "Sydney, I was an idiot. I'm sorry. I was afraid, okay? You make me feel things that scare the shit out of me. You make me want things I never thought I would want. And Thomas makes me feel things, too. I don't know, maybe that's the magic of a baby or something but both of you just make me want to take care of you. I can't make it make sense to you, Sydney, because it doesn't even make sense to me. All I know is that I think about you a lot. And Thomas. When you don't text me back, it drives me fucking insane. It makes me want to grab my keys and come break down your door. I need to know that you're okay. Always."
"Did you need to see a baby in my arms before knowing all of this?" she whispers.
She looks so vulnerable. And confused. Like she's trying to solve some kind of puzzle that I'm giving her. I know that it's hard to understand how a guy like me can do a 180 on the baby thing, but why does she look so...bewildered?
"I don't know," I say. "Maybe. No, not really. I felt this way when I saw you in that school hallway by the lockers, Sydney. Sitting down, all alone, with Thomas on your chest. I hated what I saw. You shouldn't be alone like that. You shouldn't be crying like that either. When I saw that, I wanted to do two things. First, hold you and make it better. Second, find whoever it is that made you feel that way and kick their ass. And that's still all I want to do, Sydney."
"Please don't hate Thomas's father," she says.
"I can't help it, Sydney. I hate that fucker. How can you bring an innocent kid into the world and then not take responsibility? You better never tell me the name of the guy, Sydney. For his own personal safety. Because if I find it out, I can't promise I won't hunt him down and rip his fucking head off."
"Nate please stop talking," Sydney says, putting a hand on my chest. The contact makes my cock roar to life and I can't handle it anymore.
"You're right," I growl. "Enough talk. I've been wondering about what's under that dress since I got here and I think it's time that I found out."
