Billionaires and Bad Boys: The Complete 7-Book Box Set

by Nikki Chase

  So this is where he’s been hanging out. I watch from the sidelines, holding my mug of hot chocolate—which is not hot anymore now—while my heart squeezes with want.

  Ethan’s pulling the kids into his arms, rubbing their heads, messing up their hair . . . And most noticeably, he’s grinning and laughing like he’s having the time of his life.

  Maybe . . . I don’t know. It’s too early to say, but I wonder if he’s been thinking about the same thing that’s been occupying my mind.

  As I walk toward the group of the three smartly-dressed men, it occurs to me that the sight in front of me right now would probably count as porn for a lot of mothers out there.

  Even though I’ve been with Ethan for a long time, that doesn’t mean I’ve gotten used to my husband’s good looks. I thank my lucky stars when I open my eyes every morning, and I’m aware of the dirty looks women give me wherever we go.

  The two men sitting with him don’t look half bad either. I wonder who they are, but I guess I’ll find out soon enough.

  Ethan

  I forget what it’s like to interact with toddlers. Turns out, it’s great fun! They feel everything so intensely and display each little emotion in such a big way.

  When something’s funny, it’s the funniest thing ever, and they go into these never-ending, contagious peals of laughter. When something’s sad, it’s the end of the world, and they mourn like a loved one’s dying.

  Years ago, when Penny was younger, I didn’t have much time to play with her. I was always working, trying to make ends meet on minimum wage. It’s crazy to think I used to toil for a whole month to make what I now earn in mere hours.

  Even when I was home, I was too busy keeping the place livable. Ashley, my ex-wife, didn’t lift a finger, even though she wasn’t working. Okay, she had a few part-time jobs, I suppose, but she never stuck with those jobs long enough for any of them to matter.

  She used to come into work late and ignore calls from her manager. I was never surprised to hear her rant about how her latest asshole boss had fired her, although it was always a challenge to keep my mouth shut through the entire tirade.

  Once, she managed to keep her job for five or six months, and I had my standards so low at that point that it was enough to impress me.

  I thought she was finally cleaning up her act and trying to pull her weight. Of course, it turned out she was fucking her boss behind my back.

  Like a sucker, I kept busting my ass, trying to pay our bills and making sure Penny was washed and fed. Meanwhile, Ashley seemed to consider it an achievement that we (read: I) managed to keep Penny alive at all.

  I had to squeeze in play time with Penny in between preparing our freezer meals and visiting the banks one by one to get more credit cards because money was always running out.

  Parenting felt like the mere fulfillment of an obligation at the time because of how much weight was on my shoulders.

  Later on, after Ashley left me, after I got Penny back under my roof, I tried to make up for all those lost father-daughter bonding opportunities by cutting down on my work hours and spending all my free time with Penny. It was great but she wasn’t a toddler anymore by then, so it didn't feel the same.

  I never had the time or the peace of mind to just enjoy being with Penny as a little girl, the way I’m enjoying other people’s kids right now.

  By “other people,” I mean the Foster brothers, who are sitting on the floor with me now.

  The Foster family has dealings in so many different industries in San Francisco it would take an entire novel to simply list them.

  I’ve worked with Caine Foster on various projects. He’s a stand-up guy who always honors his obligations and is always happy to lend his resources to his business partners, which is why many of them have become personal friends of his.

  “I can’t believe Olivia’s already running around like she owns the place,” Caine muses as he looks at the Holts' girl, the one playing with the wheel of the colorful plastic boat.

  “I wouldn’t believe it either, except I see her pretty often in the elevator,” I say.

  “I still remember Piper and Rafe’s wedding,” Caine says. “It didn’t seem too long ago. But then again, the hotel where they held that wedding has grown a lot, too. It’s one of our most profitable properties now. Maybe it was good luck to let them use the place.”

  Apparently, the Holts owe the Fosters for opening up their new property for Piper and Raphael’s wedding at the last minute.

  “Which property was that again?” Cole, Caine’s brother, asks.

  “The one by the beach. It’s really popular for weddings.”

  “Ah, yeah. Figures,” Cole says. “Right now, we only have hotels in the downtown Seattle area, but I really want to build something in a more, say, romantic setting.”

  “You should,” Caine says. “Weddings are big money-makers.”

  “I can attest to that,” I say. “I have a few wedding vendors as tenants in the shopping centers downtown. Based on what they tell me, their profits are through the roof.”

  “The only downside is, the money's kind of seasonal,” Caine says.

  “So is the money in the hospitality industry,” Cole says. “It's okay, though. Whenever it’s quiet, Emily and I like to get away and take a vacation ourselves. It’s fun to go somewhere warm in the off-season when it’s not crowded, and we always come back with a ton of ideas to implement in our hotels.”

  This is the first time I’m meeting Cole Foster. For some reason, he doesn’t look much like Caine. When Caine told me he was going to introduce me to his brother, I expected a blond-haired, blue-eyed guy, but Cole has a darker coloring than Caine, and he seems like a more laid-back guy.

  There are rumors circling about how they’re half-brothers, but who cares about that in this time and age? Their family seems to get along, although Cole’s move to Seattle was done specifically to avoid having to work with his dad.

  I don’t think that indicates anything fishy, though. Some dads can be overbearing; that’s why people move out as soon as they can, right? That’s also why I try to give Penny as much freedom as is safe for her to have. Holding on too tightly only makes kids want to leave even more.

  But now that Penny’s a teenager, who prefers to spend time with her friends and thinks I’m the most uncool person in the universe, I’m tempted to keep her locked up in her room because I miss her so much.

  Luckily, I have Megan now. Otherwise, I’d be one lonely man.

  “Hey, I’ve been looking for you,” says the sweetest, loveliest voice the world.

  If I were a toddler, I’d be jumping up and down, yelling her name excitedly. But since I’m a grown man in a public setting, I simply say, “Hey, Megs. You looked like you were having an interesting conversation with Mrs. Smith from downstairs, so I decided to take a look around the apartment and bumped into these two gentlemen.”

  Megan turns to look at the Foster brothers and gives them a charming smile. “Hi,” she says.

  “Gentlemen, this is Megan, my wife,” I say. “And Megan, meet Caine Foster and Cole Foster.”

  “I take it you’re brothers?” Megan asks.

  “Yes,” Caine says.

  “Take a seat anywhere, Megan.” Cole grins as he gestures at the empty space on the plush carpeting that covers the whole playroom.

  “Thank you.” Megan seems to hesitate, probably because she’s wearing a dress, but she joins us anyway. Looking around at the toddlers laughing and climbing all over us, she asks, “And who are these?”

  “This little guy, the oldest one, is Jax, my son.” Cole pulls his son into a hug and ruffles his hair, making Jax giggle. “And the other two are my brother’s. The one hiding behind Caine’s back is my niece, Grace—we can still see you, honey. And the one playing with your husband’s nice suit is my nephew, Gavin.”

  “I think he likes Ethan’s suit,” Caine says.

  “I swear Gavin will be a fashion designer or something. At th
e very least, he'll be a well-dressed man. He’s always fussing over people’s outfits,” Cole comments.

  “He doesn’t even let me pick his clothes anymore,” says a female voice.

  The four of us look up to find a woman standing just by the edge of the circle we’ve formed on the floor.

  Megan

  The woman Caine’s just introduced as his wife, Daisy, is a young blonde with stunning green eyes. She's so pretty I have to force myself to stop staring.

  “Sorry to break up your party, but it’s time for the kids to eat,” Daisy says. “Come on, kiddos.”

  As Daisy walks away with one kid on each hand, the emotions that have been swirling in my chest since I entered this room expand unbearably. I need to do something about them.

  I take Ethan’s hand. “Is it okay for me to steal you away, too? There’s something I want to show you.”

  “Of course,” he says with a smile. He turns to the Foster brothers. “Please excuse me. Apparently, I’m needed somewhere else. It’s great to see you again, Caine. And Cole, it was a pleasure meeting you. Sorry, I have to go.”

  “Oh, don’t be. I need to find my wife, too,” Cole says as he grabs Jax by the shoulders. “She’s probably with her sister. It’s been a while since we last visited San Francisco, so they’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”

  We say our goodbyes, then I drag Ethan outside and find a quiet corner in the hallway where we can talk. The playroom is way too loud for this discussion.

  I wonder if the walls are lined with soundproofing because the volume level out here is way low, considering the amount of screaming going on in the playroom. Maybe that would be a good thing to install in our apartment, as well, if we're going to do that I'm about to suggest.

  “What is it?” Ethan asks with a teasing smile on his handsome face. “Did you see anyone other than our hossts behaving scandalously?”

  “Other than some excessive drinking by some of our neighbors, not really.”

  I grow quiet as I consider how to bring up this issue. Maybe I should sleep on it first because as soon as the words leave my mouth, I can’t unsay them. But then again, I’ve been sitting on this idea for too long not to share it with Ethan.

  “So, you took me out here just to watch some people drink?” Ethan asks, an amused glint dancing in his eyes. “Maybe we should join them.”

  “No,” I say, a little too loudly and a little too quickly. Ethan frowns. “Is anything wrong?”

  “No,” I say more softly. “I just don’t want to drink.”

  “You don’t want to drink?” Ethan’s gaze lowers. As he stares at my belly, I realize what he must be thinking. “Are you . . . So, what are we here for?”

  “I’m not pregnant . . . if that’s what you’re thinking,” I say pre-emptively.

  “That was what I was thinking. Phew.” Ethan pretends to wipe some sweat off his brows.

  His reaction makes me wonder if it’s really a good idea to bring this up, after all.

  Penny’s a teenager, so Ethan finally has some free time to devote to his work and hobbies now. Maybe he wants to rest, instead of doing more of the same old stuff.

  Ethan notices me studying his facial expression. “Is anything wrong, kitten?” he asks with concern.

  “No. I just . . .” I pause as my heart pounds in my chest. Pushing past the lump in my throat, I ask, “Would it be such bad news if I were really pregnant?”

  “Not at all,” Ethan answers, so confidently he leaves no doubt in my heart that he means it. He asks again, “Are you?”

  I shake my head. How should I phrase this, I wonder? I’ve been trying to come up with a good way to say it, but I haven’t been able to find the words.

  “Kitten,” Ethan says with a gentle voice. He levels his gaze at me. “Do you want to tell me what’s wrong? We can go home if you don’t like it here.”

  “No, I do. I mean, I like it here. I’m enjoying the party,” I say.

  This is a great party. All around us, well-dressed people make light conversation while they sip their champagnes. Not to mention . . .

  If it weren’t for what I saw in the playroom, I wouldn’t be so sure of what I want. But now, it almost feels like my ovaries are screaming for attention.

  “Then, what is it, kitten?” Ethan asks, putting his warm palm on my cheek and stroking my skin with his thumb.

  I want to tell him. No, I need to tell him. Maybe, if I word it as a question . . .

  “If I were really pregnant, how would you react?” I ask. Quickly, I add, “And, again, I’m not pregnant. I’m pretty sure I’m not, at least.”

  Ethan cocks a questioning eyebrow. “You’re ‘pretty sure’ you’re not?”

  “Just answer the question,” I say.

  “Well, I’d be happy, of course,” he says matter-of-factly.

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. Of course,” he repeats.

  “You wouldn’t be . . . I don’t know, annoyed?”

  “Why would I be annoyed?” Ethan furrows his eyebrows.

  “I don’t know. Because now that Penny’s older, you’re almost done parenting? It’s only two more years until she’s eighteen.”

  Ethan’s face grows more confused as I speak, making me feel ridiculous for even asking. But I have to know. I need to know for sure and I need to know now.

  “Kitten, I love parenting. It’s awesome,” he says. “I love spending time with Penny. You know that. There’s no activity I prefer in the world.” He adds, “Except for spending time with you, of course.” He pauses before he adds again, “I mean, I don’t prefer spending time with you more than Penny, but—”

  I laugh as I realize he’s dug himself into a hole, and now he’s trying to fix the damage. “You don’t have to explain yourself. I know what you mean.”

  “Good.” Ethan smiles with relief, exhaling deeply. “Now, what is it you want to talk about?”

  “I . . . What do you think about . . . You know, if I were to . . . I mean, it doesn’t have to be now, but . . .” I stammer.

  Jesus, why can’t I just spit it out?

  “Do you want us to have a baby together?” Ethan asks, his voice gentle and his gaze serious despite the smile on his lips.

  My heart flips. “Yes.”

  I wasn’t going to put it in such absolute terms. I was going to tell him I’d only been playing with the idea in my mind.

  But now that the words have been spoken, a longing from deep within my soul tells me that’s exactly what I want.

  Funny, because I was never a kid person before I met Ethan and Penny.

  Ethan’s lips grow wide, breaking out into a smile that turns into a big grin. “I want that, too.”

  “Are you serious?” I ask, my heart racing. “Please don’t say that if you don’t know for sure.”

  “Yeah, of course,” he says. “I know kids were never in the plans for you, and I know you’ve been busy with work lately, so I didn’t want to bring it up and risk stressing you out.”

  Joy bubbles up from my stomach and rises to my throat, threatening to fill my eyes with tears. Fearfully, I ask again, “Are you serious?”

  “Yes, kitten,” he says, his gaze soft and kind.

  “You’re not just saying that because you’ve been playing with kids in the playroom?” I ask again. I know I’m being repetitive, but it’s important to make sure we’re on the same page.

  “I’ve been thinking about it for a while now,” he says.

  Tears prick my eyes as relief fills my chest. “Me, too.”

  “Oh, kitten.” Ethan wraps his strong, protective arms around me and pulls me close, letting me bury my face in the crook of his neck. The comforting, familiar scent of his musk fills my nostrils as he kisses the top of my head. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too,” I say, letting tears drip down my face and seep into the fabric of Ethan’s suit jacket.

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” he asks.

  I nod. “Yes.”
>
  “I promise you, I’ll love the hell out of that baby,” he says.

  “I know you will. You’ve always been such a good dad to Penny.” My voice breaks as I start sobbing.

  Where did all these emotions come from?

  I’ve been quietly thinking about this on my own, and I’ve never cried about it before. Only now am I starting to comprehend just how much I want it.

  “Is she okay?” asks a party guest. The voice belongs to a woman, but I can’t see her with my face buried in Ethan's shirt—nor do I want to, now that my face is probably streaked black with mascara all over.

  “Yes, my wife is just getting a little emotional, that’s all.” As Ethan speaks, I feel the vibration of the vocal cords against my skin.

  “Oh,” she says before I hear the sound of a woman’s heels walking away.

  “People are staring, kitten,” Ethan says. Playfully, he asks, “Do you want to leave now, before they start thinking I’m the one who made you cry?”

  “But you are the one who made me cry,” I say, giggling through my tears as Ethan strokes my hair.

  “Keep saying things like that and I’ll give you something to cry about,” he says in a firm voice full of mirth.

  “Like what?” I ask, challenging him.

  “I don’t know, but naughty girls get punished,” he says in a low, inviting voice. His hand balls into a fist, pulling my hair. He whispers in my ear, “We have unfinished business, remember?”

  Megan

  We slip out of the party without saying anything to anybody—not even our hosts, despite how easy it is to find Piper and Rafe.

  Wherever there’s a loud crowd, there they are, in the middle. Party-goers have formed a circle right by the Christmas tree, but it’s such a tight crowd it’d take a while to penetrate it and speak to the Holts.

  Even though part of the reason why we’re leaving is to preserve Ethan’s reputation as a good husband, by the time we get in the elevator, I’ve stopped crying.