Triplet Babies for My Billionaire Boss (A Billionaire's Baby Romance)

by Lia Lee

  I race down the stairs and out the front door. I’m barefoot, but I don’t care that the lawn is prickly or the sidewalk gritty. I only care about seeing him.

  “Logan!” I cry breathlessly, running toward him. I practically slam into him like Rose does when he comes home from being out, and throw my arms around his neck. My eyes sting as I hold back the tears that have been gathering all week, waiting to finally feel the warmth of his body against mine again.

  “Logan,” I say again, my voice choked. “Where have you been?” I want to melt into him, become part of him.

  But instead of the firm, secure circle of his embrace, I feel his hands on my wrists, prying my arms loose.

  “Quinn, calm down,” he says, bringing my hands down in front of his chest. “What’s wrong?”

  His voice sounds flat, emotionless, and I search his eyes for some explanation. His cool hazel stare sends a chill down my spine.

  “What’s wrong?” I cry. “Why haven’t you called me? Or returned my calls? Or answered your door? I was so worried about you and Rose after the break-in.”

  “Shh… don’t shout. Someone will hear you.”

  He drops my hands and steps away, and I don’t understand what’s going on. “I don’t care!” I say. “Don’t shut me out like this. Please, Logan… I love you.”

  “Lower your voice,” he nearly growls, glancing in all directions. “Come inside before you say anything else.” He walks to his front door and opens it without looking back. The strangeness of his voice frightens me, and I start to tremble; it’s not like him at all. My insides writhe like a nest of snakes as I follow him numbly up the porch steps and into the house.

  He closes the door behind me and leans against it with one outstretched arm. He looks as stern as one of my professors, but none of my professors are this handsome or make me want to kiss him all over in spite of his surly expression.

  “Where’s Rose?” I ask, hoping to break the tension. Something is very wrong here, and I’m afraid to find out what it is.

  “She’s at day care. I found a good one awhile back but had to wait a few weeks to get her in. She loves it,” he says matter-of-factly, intimating that Rose no longer has need of my services.

  I shake my head slowly. “Why are you doing this, Logan? Being so distant and…” I can’t find the words I want to say. I’m confused and hurt.

  “Quinn, listen to me. I’m not saying it hasn’t been fun. You’re an incredible girl, you really are. You make me want you like I’ve never wanted anyone before. But this…” He gestures between us with his free hand. “This is wrong, you and me. On so many levels, not the least of which is Rose. She’s very impressionable at her age.”

  “She’s four,” I say, the psychologist in me pushing through my tears. “All she wants is a mother figure in her life. Hasn’t she been asking for me?”

  Logan sighs in exasperation. “That’s just it. She’s getting too attached to you, and you’re not much older than she is. You’re more like a big sister. I’m sorry to be blunt, but I can’t be banging the big sister, or the babysitter, in front of her.”

  I’m taken aback by his hurtful and indelicate words; I can’t believe I’m hearing them. “Is that all I am to you, a… a bang?” I know my mouth is hanging open, and tears are spilling down my cheeks, but I want him to see it. See what he’s doing to me; a part of me hopes he’s just saying these awful words out of defense so that I’ll get angry and go away. But I’m way past angry. I’m devastated.

  “Quinn, I’ve enjoyed our time together. I thought you did too. But it has to stop. I’m twice your age, and I feel like a dirty old man every time Frederick speaks to me. Think about it… where can this relationship go with you and your goddamn father living next door? Plus, I work all the time, I have to protect and raise my own daughter, and with Jolene sneaking around and trying to infiltrate our lives again I just don’t need any more complications. I’ve got enough on my plate.”

  I try to focus on his beautiful hazel eyes; the ones that always held a sexy twinkle for me but have now gone dark. As dark as my world feels right now.

  “Now I’m a complication as well as a bang?” I squeak, nearly choking on the words. I think I might throw up again. “How can you kiss me and hold me and make love to me and then stand there and say it was all a… complication! A lie!” I scream, backing away from him.

  “You’re hysterical,” he says, reaching out to take hold of my shoulders. “I never said it was a lie. But I also never promised it would go anywhere—become something more than it was. Didn’t you enjoy it, too? It was great, really great honey, but it’s over. You’ve got your whole life ahead of you, Quinn. Trust me, you’ll thank me for this someday.”

  “Trust you,” I hissed. “I did trust you… I thought I loved you!” I sweep his hands off me with both arms and reach for the doorknob. I turn to face him one last time, my hair swirling about my shoulders. “But now I know better. I hate you. I wish I’d never met you, Logan Brenner.”

  I twist the knob and run out, my sobs carrying out onto the street, and I don’t care who hears them.

  Chapter Ten

  Logan

  For Good

  Fuck. That could have gone better.

  I watch, helpless, as Quinn storms across the lawn and out of my life. I grip the edge of the door that nearly nailed me in the head as she flung it wide. Even if it had connected, it couldn’t have hurt me more than I already ache inside. A knife to the gut would have been kinder. But some things have to be done for the greater good. For Quinn’s own good.

  I should have told her it was over that night at the drive-in, and I would have if not for Jolene’s crazy stunt. In the past week, I’ve been busy arranging day care, filling out insurance claims and looking into getting a restraining order; all things that were necessary and had the bonus effect of taking my mind off the little blonde goddess next door. The one who haunts my dreams every night and leaves me with a raging hard-on when I wake. I know the vision of her luscious curves and the taste of her sweet lips will be branded onto my soul forever.

  Damn. Letting her go is the hardest thing I’ve ever done, and I’ve lived a hard life. Seen cruel, unspeakable things in dark alleys and drug houses that would scar most people for life. But Quinn VanderKemp has already left a scar on my heart that I know will never heal.

  In my forty years on this Earth, I’ve had plenty of practice in toughening up and moving on. What did Quinn have? What defense against the careless, unthinking assault on her emotions and her innocence by a man who let his dick lead him around like a witless puppy? A man who should know better. God, I’m such a shit. The soul-crushing thought of my own little girl being seduced one day, in the same manner, makes me want to die inside. But if the man who did it truly loved her, and she him, would that make it alright? Does a father really have any say or control in the matter? I feel bad for Frederick as much as myself.

  I never intended to hurt Quinn. I never wanted anything except to give us both a little pleasure. I couldn’t resist the freshness of her face, the beauty of her young body, and the sharpness of her mind. She’d offered it all to me without hesitation, and I took it. All of it. She was the bread of life to a starving man who didn’t even realize he was starving. And I still hunger for her no matter how much I deny it; no matter how much I say it’s wrong.

  She said she loves me. I know Rose loves her. I can’t say I know what being in love feels like. Everyone I thought I loved abandoned me. Maybe I’m incapable of loving anyone except my daughter. But deep down I think I’ve sent Quinn away because what I’m feeling right now seems damn close to love—and if that’s true, she might leave me too, like all the rest. This way, I’m the one doing the leaving. No one can leave me if I leave them first.

  The memory of that horrible, hollow sensation comes back to me in full force; the one I never want to experience again. The feeling that the whole world has tilted sideways like a torpedoed ship and is spilling me off the dec
k into the freezing waters of the unknown. Rudderless and blind, with no sense of direction.

  I felt it in the days right after my dad was killed. I did nothing but hide in my room, afraid that whoever got him would come for me next. I was just a dumb-ass kid, with no life skills or coping mechanisms, and the only person I could turn to couldn’t even look at me without crying and drowning herself in a bottle. One day she cried herself right out of the house and never came back.

  I felt it again as I held a newborn Rose in my arms; a tiny, screaming, squirming bundle of humanity that I had no idea what to do with or how to care for. Her cries pierced my ears and ripped my heart. The rest of me went numb as Jolene railed and cursed, in one of her typical withdrawal rages, scattering everything within her reach across the room or on the floor, telling me it’s my fault, that I did this to her, and she couldn’t stand it another minute.

  “You made this baby, you deal with it!” she’d screamed, slamming the door and disappearing from our crummy apartment, from my life, from our daughter’s life.

  I’d never felt so lost, so betrayed, or so guilty. It was my fault—I’m the prick that got her pregnant after all. Guilty that I’d brought this perfect, beautiful, little person into the world with no more thought than I’d given to wearing a condom—which was none. No thought to the quality of life I could provide for her. But I was all she had now. Scared as I was, I had to make it work, and I did. I felt proud of that.

  And now, the despicable creature that’s done nothing more for Rose than give birth to her has the gall to barge back in, and demand to see the progeny she abandoned so callously. It sets my teeth on edge and my guts on fire, and from what I see, there is no indication that she is in any better shape to be a mother now than she ever was. She can’t be trusted.

  There’s no room in my life for anyone but Rose. It’s just the way it has to be. Buying this house was supposed to be a new start for us, but it’s not turning out that way. I’ve hurt Quinn, betrayed her father, and somehow put us within Jolene’s poisoned reach. It wasn’t what I’d set out to do.

  As disrupting as a move will be, it might be best to start looking for another place, while Rose is still a preschooler. Somewhere quiet. Somewhere safe. Maybe look into getting a live-in nanny. And make sure she’s as unattractive as possible.

  After I change and get ready to pick up Rose from day care, I pull out my cell phone and punch the number for my realtor’s office.

  Chapter Eleven

  Quinn

  Merry Go Round Breakdown

  “I just don’t feel like going out, Rochelle. You know we have mid-terms to study for.”

  “Oh, quit being such a bookworm for once. I haven’t seen you in forever, and you need to get out. Besides, you still haven’t told me how the ‘babysitting’ job went. I need deets, girl—and you need some fun. I want to hear all the gory details while on top of the Ferris wheel where the guys won’t eavesdrop.”

  Ugh. The thought of swinging upward in a metal bucket at the carnival makes me heave. Rochelle knows I never liked carnival rides. How does she expect me to think of this as fun? She just wants to get me alone and pump me for information. And at the same time try to fix me up with her boyfriend Alex’s buddy that’s just blown into town for the weekend. Neither one appeals to me right now.

  “I’ll pass on the Ferris wheel, thanks,” I say, my stomach already twitching in alarm.

  “Oh, all right. We’ll find somewhere to dish out of earshot. Trent is really stoked about meeting you, though. Alex told him what a stunner you are.”

  “Great. Thanks. Just what I need. Another dude who thinks my only credentials are my tits and ass. Good work, Roch. Can’t we go somewhere else besides the amusement park?”

  “No! You know this mobile carnival is a fundraiser for the ASU grad class. We have to support it. And your tits and ass need a break from the books just as much as the rest of you. We’ll let the boys blow a bunch of money trying to win us giant stuffed bears, what do you say?”

  Against my better judgment, I say yes. I’ve already studied my ass off, trying to distract myself from the real world, and probably couldn’t cram one more stat or research paper into my memory if I tried.

  “Great!” Rochelle says. “We’ll pick you up at six, just when the lights come on. And wear something sexy for a change, will you? I don’t want Trent to see you in your natural habitat of baggy sweats and varsity hoodies.”

  With a sigh, I hang up on Rochelle. It couldn’t hurt to have a change of scenery. Whenever I do feign to glance out my window all I see is the quiet house and empty yard next door. I’ve given up hoping to catch a glimpse of Rose, or Logan. They seem to have shut themselves off from everything, especially me.

  It’s November, which makes it over two months that I’ve known Logan, but also two weeks since I saw him last. And it’s been two weeks of hell. No matter how much I try to force him out of my mind, one thing makes it impossible. I check my computer calendar again, just to make sure I haven’t miscounted. And just like the last three times I checked… I haven’t.

  I’m late.

  Really late.

  When I missed my October period I didn’t think much of it; with the stress of a new school year and the pressures of my Master’s program that can happen. But with November nearly gone and still no period, I realize I have a problem on my hands. My unruly stomach should have tipped me off, but in my distress over Logan, I thought it was just nerves.

  Waiting any longer won’t solve anything, so I decide to take the trip to the drugstore that I’ve been putting off. I have to know. And if a pregnancy test shows positive, I have to take responsibility. I have no one to blame but myself. We used condoms when we could, but there were so many times where things were just spontaneous. Logan and I couldn’t keep our hands off each other for long, no matter where we went.

  I feel guilty enough for being so careless, but it’s not the possibility of being pregnant that scares me or bothers me the most. It’s that my father, the doctor, the one who promoted family planning to all his patients, will be so disappointed in me.

  ***

  “Loosen up, will you?” Rochelle almost snarls in my ear. “God, you’re stiff as an icicle. Trent thinks he might get frostbite if he even tries to hold your hand.”

  “Just leave me alone,” I say. “I’m here aren’t I? I never said I’d make out with the guy.”

  “I didn’t ask you to. Didn’t think I had to… look at him!”

  I had to admit Alex’s friend Trent was pretty handsome; in that arrogant, frat boy kind of way. Perfect hair, nice eyes, strong chin, and athletic. Not a bad package—if you like that sort of thing. He flashes a toothy white smile my way as I suck a fruit smoothie from a straw. Rochelle elbows me, so I smile back, just to be cordial. Flirting is the last thing on my mind.

  He and Alex are playing a shooting game on the makeshift midway set up in a parking lot of the ASU campus. Lights and bells ding and flash everywhere, adding to the white noise of people’s voices and laughter. The smells of popcorn and hotdogs waft through the evening air, and as much as I love hotdogs, the aroma is making me nauseous again.

  I see lots of families have come out to join the fun and support the cause, too. I think of Rose and Logan, and imagine them strolling around this venue—Rose holding a balloon on a string. I miss her. With a sigh, I wonder what she’d think of having a new baby brother or sister to play with.

  But she’ll probably never even know she has one.

  “Hey!” I hear Alex shout as he wins at his game and waves Rochelle over to pick out her prize. They look so cute together, Roch and Alex; I envy their steady, fun-loving relationship. It seems so simple when you look at them. Why couldn’t all relationships be like that? Simple. Straightforward. Uncomplicated.

  I glance over at Trent as he stands back from Alex, conceding his friend’s besting him at water pistols. Tall and tanned, he’ll be a good catch for somebody, someday. But not me. What colleg
e guy would want me now… damaged goods and with a “bun in the oven.” I’m hurting too much right now to even think about a man, any man, except the one who’s broken my heart and planted his seed in my womb.

  I want to tell Rochelle that my drugstore test came up positive, tell her the whole miserable story that she claims to be so anxious to hear. She’ll be sorry she asked, but if I know my friend she’ll offer a big strong shoulder for me to cry on nevertheless. I couldn’t imagine us hanging out like this again, single and carefree. I might be single, but far from carefree.

  “Looks like I’m the loser in this race,” Trent says, coming up alongside me. “C’mon. We’ll find another game I’m good at and win you an even bigger prize than Rochelle’s got.” He links his arm in mine and leads me further down the midway. “So I hear you’re practically a psychologist. I hope you don’t head shrink me before we have a chance to get to know each other better.”

  I roll my eyes at his comment. Everyone thinks of you as a “shrink.” There are many more career pathways in the psychology field than people realize. “Actually, I plan to be a counselor after I finish my Masters. I won’t have a fancy office or a couch. I might even work with social services—helping people who need it most.”

  “Mmm, too bad. I’d lie on your couch anytime, Dr. Quinn.” Trent laughs out loud. “Hey, wasn’t that a TV show? Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman?”

  I try to humor him and laugh politely, but I’m not very good company tonight. It’s not Trent’s fault. He seems a nice enough guy, but I have too much on my mind to pay him much attention.

  “Hey, where are you two lovebirds going?” Rochelle shouts from behind. She and Alex catch up to us, Alex carrying the four-foot-tall stuffed giraffe that he’s won.

  “Oh, just looking for another booth where I can demonstrate my gaming prowess for the brilliant Dr. Quinn here,” Trent answers.

  “Uh, don’t hold your breath for a kewpie doll, Quinn. Most of Trent’s prowess gets demonstrated elsewhere,” Alex warns. “Like in the bedroom.”