His Surprise Baby

by Valentine, Layla

  “Charlotte, my love, calm down. They’re going to be fine. They’re going to be just perfect, like their mommy. We just need to get to the hospital, all right? Everything is fine,” I assure her.

  Milo is some miles away, taking the day off, so I sprint towards my sports car while I hold my beloved tenderly in my grasp. Unlocking the door, I gently buckle her in before running to the other side. Jumping into the car, I rev the engine and speed out of the parking lot.

  “I can’t…I can’t breathe,” she gasps, and I press the gas pedal down even harder. I reach over to grasp her hand, managing to keep us on the road as we make our way to the hospital. I could care less if a cop tries to stop us, all I care about is ensuring my family is okay. Fortunately, we zoom into the hospital parking lot without delay and I carry her the remaining distance.

  A nurse helps her into a wheelchair once we’re inside, and as much as I don’t want to let her go, I have to see her taken care of.

  “She’s having a hard time breathing,” I explain urgently, and the nurse looks at Charlotte intently. “She’s supposed to have a C-section; we were told at our last appointment together,” I continue frantically, racing after the nurse as she rushes down the halls.

  “Crash cart! Get a crash cart ready!” she yells, and I feel as if my heart drops into my stomach.

  I try my best to remain calm while Charlotte is in so much pain. My beautiful lover, my beautiful babies…please let me not lose them over my own stupidity. If I’d never pushed her away, she never would have left the country. If she hadn’t left the country, maybe this wouldn’t be happening.

  “Dillon, hold my hand,” Charlotte calls out softly, and I race to keep up as the nurse wheels us into the maternity ward.

  Another nurse wheels the crash cart beside the bed, and the two of them work quickly to get Charlotte settled in. Placing an oxygen mask on her, the first turns to look at me carefully.

  “Are you the father?” she asks bluntly, and I nod my head fervently.

  “Please, tell me she’s going to be okay,” I beg.

  Tears roll down Charlotte’s cheeks, but she manages to even out her breathing with the help of the oxygen mask.

  “The doctor will be here…well, here he is,” the nurse announces, gesturing to the familiar man.

  I turn tearful eyes upon him, and he gestures his hands in a calming motion. He steps forward to consider Charlotte, tutting under his breath.

  “When I you boarding the plane, I was worried, so I went ahead and tagged along. You have nothing to worry about; you’re simply going into labor a bit sooner than expected, so if you two could take a few breaths…” he says soothingly.

  Charlotte sighs in relief, and I narrow my eyes at the doctor.

  “You knew she could get hurt and you didn’t stop her?” I demand, but the doctor ignores me.

  “Dillon, please!” Charlotte cries out, and I look over to see the nurses changing her into a hospital gown with the opening in the front. I rush to her side, gripping her hand once more. “Don’t leave me, please don’t leave,” she whispers, gripping my hand as tightly as she is able.

  “Never. Never again,” I vow. The nurses begin to set up the room for the cesarean section, and I tighten my grip on Charlotte’s hand, leaning in to kiss her on the forehead.

  “All right. Let’s begin then, shall we?” the doctor announces, beginning the procedure.

  * * *

  Some fifteen minutes later, and our family has grown by three. The nurses ensure each of the babies is healthy before placing them on Charlotte’s chest. I can’t help but gape at the tiny little beings, so small and fragile. I reach out to brush my fingertips over one of the babies’ heads, tears gathering in my eyes.

  “You did it, my love. You did it,” I murmur softly, leaning in to kiss the woman I love.

  “We did it,” she corrects wearily.

  Once Charlotte’s been stitched up, the doctors and nurses step away to give us a bit of privacy. The triplets already seem to vary in personality, one crying, one cooing, and the other simply watching in bleary-eyed silence. Charlotte watches them through tired, happy eyes, leaning down to kiss each one of them.

  “So, about the new mansion…” she begins, looking at me with a certain mischievous gleam in her eye. I chuckle, shrugging my shoulders.

  “Three rooms for three boys, and a playroom on the ground floor. I…had hoped you would come back,” I admit.

  She hums thoughtfully for a moment, staring at our newborn triplets. Suddenly, her lips curl into a big smile and she begins to giggle softly. I tilt my head curiously, watching her with a smile of my own.

  “What’s so funny, Charlotte?” I ask with a chuckle.

  She wipes a tear from her eye, seeming to debate telling me. After a moment, however, she gives in.

  “Oh, I was just thinking…we’re going to need to hire a maid.”

  Epilogue

  Charlotte

  “And you’re sure the jet’s ready to leave tomorrow?” I ask gently, bouncing one of the boys on my hip as the others bicker amongst themselves.

  Dillon nods, scooping the other two up and holding them a reasonable distance away from each other.

  “Of course, my love. I know how much this trip means to you,” he soothes.

  Since I’ve been living with Dillon and our children for just over two years, we’re more than overdue a visit to Australia to see my family. Jenny is warming up to the idea of having him as a billionaire brother-in-law, though with all the gifts Dillon has been sending her and my parents, who can blame her? As much as I’ve tried to tell him that he doesn’t have to buy my family’s approval, he’s simply too generous for his own good.

  “Do you think the boys will behave themselves on the plane?” I ask, and Dillon looks at me for a long moment before we both burst into laughter. “Oh, I know, I know. Of course not,” I correct myself, setting Bradley on the floor.

  He looks at me with those big, expressive eyes of his, and I’m beginning to wonder if Dillon was onto something when he mentioned loving my eyes. All three boys have shades of green as an eye color: Dillon Junior’s eyes are looking a bit more turquoise, Charles has eyes that look more forest green, and Bradley seems to have the exact emerald shade of my own.

  They’re growing to be handsome little boys, though they’re real troublemakers when they set their young minds to it. Dillon jokes that he can’t imagine where they got that trait. After two years of co-parenting, he and I are closer than ever, and I have no doubt in my mind that he’s the man I want to spend the rest of my life with.

  “Have you finished packing your bags yet?” Dillon inquires, and I snort at the silliness of his question.

  He tilts his head at me, placing Charles and Dillon Junior on the floor.

  “You’re not going to be able to play once we’re on the plane, so better get all the roughhousing out of your system,” he instructs them, and the two grin before starting to wrestle. Bradley smiles as he watches for a moment, before joining in on the fun.

  “Should we really be encouraging them?” I muse aloud, watching the three of them with a faint grin.

  Dillon waves me off, stepping towards me to draw me into his arms. He presses a kiss to my cheek, trailing down along the side of my neck.

  “Honey, not in front of the boys,” I murmur, blushing deeply.

  My handsome billionaire smirks, pulling me away towards the other room.

  “I need to talk to you about something,” he murmurs, lacing his fingers with mine as I glance anxiously towards the boys. “It’s important,” Dillon says, more urgently, giving my hand another tug.

  “Oh, fine,” I sigh, following him into the den.

  He shuts off the television which is blaring cartoons, gesturing for me to sit on the couch. I oblige him, more than vaguely curious as to what he has in mind. He sighs, beginning to pace back and forth in front of me. Something tells me that he’s troubled, though I have no idea by what.

 
“Dillon, are you all right?” I inquire softly.

  He pauses, turning to face me with an intense expression.

  “I don’t think your family is going to approve,” he says, his voice calm in spite of his words and posture.

  His hands fidget at his sides, and I can tell that the situation is seriously bothering him.

  “Approve of…what? Our relationship? Oh come on, you know they love you. Everything that happened is in the past,” I murmur, rising to my feet in an attempt to comfort him.

  He holds a hand out to stop me, worrying his lip between his teeth.

  “It’s just that, most parents expect their kids to, you know, get married and then have kids,” he hedges.

  “My parents are well aware of where you and I stand. Nothing has changed in the two years we’ve been doing this together! We’re still co-parents even if we aren’t doing it the traditional way…” I trail off, averting my eyes.

  Dillon sighs, dropping down to a knee to get on my level. I refuse to meet his gaze, the conversation hitting a nerve a bit more than I would like to admit.

  “Listen, Charlotte,” he begins, and I glance towards him with the intent to tell him we don’t need to discuss this any further.

  However, what I see stops me in my tracks. Dillon remains on one knee, a jewelry box in his hand as he meets my gaze with a warm smile. Certain he’s joking, I roll my eyes.

  “What’s in there, a candy ring?”

  He grins wider, popping the lid on the jewelry box. I glance towards him again, feeling my heart stop in my chest as I lay eyes upon the ring settled inside the box.

  “I’m more partial to carats,” he says slyly. Then, his expression turns serious and he reaches out to caress my cheek.

  “Charlotte, I had so much planned that I wanted to say. Some big romantic spiel, but, you know…ah. To hell with it. Marry me,” he murmurs.

  My mouth falls open and it’s all I can do not to scream my answer. I hold out my hand, and he removes the ring from its box, holding it tantalizingly close to my finger.

  “What do you say?” he whispers.

  “Dillon…of course. Yes, yes, I’ll marry you!” I cry out, unable to stop the tears that prick at the corners of my eyes. I hear the sound of excited squealing from the living room, and the boys come tumbling in, each of them trying to get to Dillon and me first.

  Overcome with emotion, I glance towards Dillon and smile broadly as he slips the ring onto my finger. It fits perfectly. It’s also the biggest diamond I’ve ever seen in my life. I’m overcome with emotion, gathering the boys into my arms and planting a firm kiss on Dillon’s lips.

  “My sister is going to freak out when she sees this,” I breathe, holding the ring out and allowing it to glimmer in the light.

  “You’re telling me!” I hear a voice cry out.

  I glance over, surprised to see Dillon’s tablet propped up on the table. I hadn’t noticed, but my parents and Jenny are watching me from the small screen, apparently having been in a video call the whole time. Jenny gives me a thumbs up, winking at me. My mother is in tears, and my father is maintaining his composure with difficulty.

  Mom gets close to the table and makes a kissy face at us.

  “Congratulations, honey. I can’t wait to see your ring in person! You boys behave on the flight, all right? Grammy loves you. All of you! That means you too, Silly Dilly,” she coos before the screen goes black.

  The boys having lost interest, the three of them totter out of the room, and Dillon seizes the opportunity to pull me to him again. I grin deviously as I reach out to poke his cheek.

  “Silly Dilly?” I tease, and he grows indignantly flushed. “More like Big Willy Dilly,” I grin, leaning in to press our lips together.

  Suddenly, there’s a rustling sound from the tablet.

  “Shit, how do I turn this thing off? Guys…Mom and Dad can hear you making out, and Dad doesn’t look happy. Abort mission,” Jenny shouts, and Dillon jolts away from me.

  I can hear my father repeating the words “Big Willy Dilly” in disbelief, and I can’t help but cackle as I reach towards the tablet to turn it off.

  “Your father is going to kill me,” Dillon mutters ruefully.

  I grin, moving to shift into his lap. He considers me with a raised brow, and I lean in to whisper into his ear.

  “Well, if he’s going to kill you, shouldn’t we give him a good reason?” I murmur as I begin to unbutton his shirt.

  He grins, capturing my lips and tangling a hand in my hair. The other slips under my shirt, where I’ve managed to reclaim my flat stomach. I’m a few stretch marks richer, but I’ve never felt more beautiful in my life.

  Here in my billionaire fiancé’s arms, I’m certain that there could be nothing better than the life we have. The here and now. This very moment.

  “Momma, I gotta go potty!” Bradley calls from the living room, and I draw away from Dillon with a wry smile.

  “Raincheck, baby?” I ask, rising to my feet and walking into the living room.

  Dillon trails after me, and while he looks exasperated, I know he wouldn’t trade moments like this for anything in the world.

  And I’m glad, because little does he know that in just under eight months’ time, we’re going to be welcoming yet another little angel to our family.

  The End

  Quadruplets For The Billionaire

  Ana Sparks & Layla Valentine

  If triplets weren’t enough of a handful, how about quadruplets!

  Our sweet, steamy story, Quadruplets For The Billionaire, is up next. We hope you enjoy!

  Copyright 2018 by Ana Sparks and Layla Valentine

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part by any means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the explicit written permission of the author.

  All characters depicted in this fictional work are consenting adults, of at least eighteen years of age. Any resemblance to persons living or deceased, particular businesses, events, or exact locations are entirely coincidental.

  Chapter 1

  Ashley

  It was a miserable day all around, if I was being honest. I was tucked away in my office on the top floor of GlobaPharm Headquarters, busying myself with the day-to-day tasks that took up the majority of my time. Work wasn’t particularly bothersome, just the opposite in fact. My boss, the only other resident of the top floor, was a handsome man with a winning personality and a charming smile. He treated me well, more like a friend than anything, though I never used that as an excuse to flake out on my work.

  To say we both had the blues that day would be an understatement, though I’ll admit my reasons for feeling so down were less serious than those of Jensen Elliott. With my thirtieth birthday looming in four months’ time, a dream of mine felt as if it were drifting further out of reach as the days went by. I wanted to have a child before I hit thirty. I just couldn’t find the ideal man to do it with.

  Seeking the perfect man to father my child was as difficult a task as one might guess. I had very specific desires for my sperm donor. Tall, blond hair, blue eyes, dagger-sharp wit. A good personality tacked on to all of that meant my perfect man was pretty much nonexistent, save one particular man who was decidedly off-limits. As much as I had ruminated over the possibility of settling, I couldn’t deny that I was repeatedly struck by a single thought: my boss would be the perfect father.

  To make matters worse, my infatuation with Jensen made it difficult for me to simply ignore his moping around. He was always so cheerful, but that was the one day a year that he was especially cold and aloof. Very few of his employees knew the reason for his shift in attitude, though he chose to spend most of his day locked away in his office. The poor guy didn’t even feel as if he could face me the year I started working here. That was three years ago, and I could even admit to
myself that I would have found his behavior rather…odd.

  Over the following years, however, Jensen chose to let me in. It only made sense, I suppose; I was his personal secretary, and the man, for all his charm, wit and good looks, had trouble making friends outside of the office. He was so work-oriented that he could scarcely focus on anything else, even after everyone had clocked out. That was perhaps a troubling fact about him: he never mentally clocked out. I could respect his passion for his work, but a small part of me wished he would notice other things that were right under his nose.

  For example, my painfully obvious crush on him. I knew a man like him could never see anything in his secretary, but I still held onto the hope that he would fall totally and irrevocably in love with me. Jensen was tall, with gorgeous blond locks and ocean-blue eyes that women went wild for. Truthfully, it was a wonder he wasn’t married to some lingerie model or something equally suitable for a billionaire.

  A part of me felt guilty for thinking about how hot my billionaire boss was, especially obsessing over the idea while he was deep in mourning. That day marked the anniversary of his father’s death, and God help me, I should not have memorized the exact amount of time that had passed. It had been five years since the elder Elliott had died, and it clearly hadn’t been enough time to mend Jensen’s wounds. I suppose one doesn’t get over losing a father easily, though I would have been the one exception to the rule. My father ditched my mother and me before I was even old enough to walk. I couldn’t even remember his face.

  By contrast, Jensen and Papa Elliott had been closer than most father-son duos. In the few times I had talked to Jensen about his father, he had described him as a wonderful man. I had no reason to doubt him, though I’ll admit it struck me as somewhat odd that the world seemed to weigh so heavily on Jensen’s shoulders. The weight only seemed to grow with every passing moment, and it all came to a head on days like this. To know Jensen was to know the happy-go-lucky person he was. It wasn’t an act; most days he was genuinely happy. To know the entirety of him, however, was to know the burden he carried.