by Eve Black
“Fuck that. I tried like hell to save her job, but Kilgore and Beecham were out for blood. As it was, I kept her from being sued for gross insubordination.”
That struck David like a horse kick. “Sue her? Why? Because she fucked me? That’s out-fucking-rageous, Rick. What she and I did is none of their goddamn business.”
“It is when she does it while employed by your attorney,” Rick remarked, his eyes narrow. “Diana knew the policy yet she did what she wanted to do, and now she is dealing with the consequences.”
“I understand that, Rick,” David admitted, grudgingly. “It doesn’t mean I have to like it. Besides…that night led to something I didn’t think would happen to me after my accident.”
Rick arched an eyebrow. “I heard. You told nearly every sewer rat in the city when you blurted that nugget in front of those paps.”
David sneered, an outward showing of the inward pain. “I only did it before she could.”
Hissing, Rick ran a hand through his hair, dislodging the well-groomed locks. “That’s bullshit, David, and you know it.”
“She’s just like Rinna, using whatever means she can to get what she wants—”
“And what the hell do you think Diana wants? Fame? Attention? Money? You honestly think she likes being in the spotlight? That she wants her once comfortable and secure life thrown to the wolves, upturned, twisted, and covered in shit?”
David listened with both ears, his heart snagging on each of Rick’s words.
No. Diana wouldn’t want that.
Sighing, David rubbed his face. “I don’t know what the hell I’m doing anymore, Rick. No matter what I say, do, or think, where Diana is concerned I get so ass over head.”
Rick breathed out a heavy sigh, reaching out to clasp David’s shoulder. He gave it a reassuring squeeze.
“Rinna messed you up, David. You needed time to deal, to heal, and to move on, but you didn’t. And now you are looking at Diana and all her actions through the stained, filthy scope of Rinna and what she did. It isn’t fair to Diana, who didn’t ask for any of this, and it isn’t fair to you, a man who deserves a happy life. And it certainly isn’t fair to your baby.”
“Babies,” David corrected, a prideful grin sliding over his face.
Rick’s eyes flew wide. “Babies?” he blurted.
Nodding, David’s smile grew ever wider. “Twins, Rick. Can you believe it?”
“Are you sure?”
“I saw them with my own eyes during the ultrasound, and…Rick…” He swallowed. “I heard their heartbeats. It was…the most amazing thing I’ve ever heard. Two little heartbeats. My children.”
“Yours and Diana’s,” Rick reminded him, easily knocking the pride from David’s chest.
“Yes…mine and Diana’s.” Hell, no matter what he did, he ended up treating her like shit.
“What am I supposed to do?” David asked, a desperation weighting his voice.
Rick squeezed his shoulder again. “Go to her. Apologize.”
“I don’t think that’ll work. I’ve said some things…and I haven’t exactly treated her as I should.”
Rick’s chuckle startled David who glared at him. “What?”
“Not knowing how to treat a woman is a man’s bane. It is a lot of trial and error because each woman is different, has different expectations. Has Diana ever told you what she expects from this… Is it even a relationship?”
Was it? Earlier that evening he’d blurted some shit about being partners, but that wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted Diana wearing his ring and his last name. He wanted to claim her as his own, cherish her and their babies, and live the rest of his life showing her how much he loved her and appreciated her for giving him the gift of children.
“I want it to be,” he answered, his heart in his throat.
“Do you love her?” Rick asked.
David didn’t hesitate to answer, “Yes. Hell, yes. More than anything.”
“Then start your groveling and apology by telling her how you feel. It’ll go a long way.”
David sighed. “You think?” God, he hated feeling out of control, lost and adrift in emotions he’d never experienced before.
“It doesn’t hurt to try.”
Chapter 25
DAVID: DIANA, PLEASE CALL ME. THERE’S SOMETHING I NEED TO TELL YOU.
That was the twentieth text she’d received in the last fifteen hours. Since she left him standing in the crowd of photographers the night before, he’d been persistent, only stopping the texts when he assumed she was sleeping. But she hadn’t slept a wink. How could she? Her whole life was crushed under the careless and ruthless thumb of an arrogant billionaire. A man to whom she’d given her heart…like a sucker.
It was Saturday, so Margie was lounging on the couch beside her, rubbing her feet like a champion of friends would.
“That another text from BBD?” Margie asked, of course using the ridiculous abbreviation for Billionaire Baby Daddy.
“Yep. I’m surprised he hasn’t given up yet. It isn’t like he really wants anything to do with me, since I am his charity case.” She said that last part with venom.
Margie pressed her thumb into the sole of Diana’s foot, making her flinch.
“What was that for?”
Margie clicked her tongue. “That was for being a sissy bitch and not confronting the bastard for what he said about you. You shouldn’t have just walked away and let him think it was okay to talk about his baby momma like that. What sort of father is he going to be if one or both of those babies are daughters? Teach that ass a lesson.” She pressed on Diana’s sole again. “Do it for your baby girls.”
Diana jerked her foot from Margie’s hand and huffed. “You’re damn right, I should do it for my girls! If they are girls—but that doesn’t even matter. If one or both of them are sons, I wouldn’t want them to emulate their father.”
But he isn’t all bad, her inner voice chided. She remembered what he’d said about his parents, about how he looked up to them. She remembered what he’d said about how heartbroken he’d been when he heard he couldn’t have kids, and then how Rinna had basically killed his joy when she’d played her nasty trick. Would a heartless man actually have a heart to hurt? And David had been hurt, it was written all over him, like a badge of shame and anguish. Also…would a man like Richard Ayers, a stand-up gentleman, really be friends with a total asshole? No, he wouldn’t, so Diana knew there was more to David than he’d shown her. And she wanted to see all of it.
“You know what. I’m going to meet with him,” Diana announced, swinging her feet to the ground and standing up. She took her cell in hand and re-read David’s last text.
She hit reply, the typed:
ME: WE NEED TO TALK. MEET AT THE SUITE?
David’s response was almost immediate.
DAVID: THANK YOU FOR TEXTING ME BACK, DIANA. LET’S MEET AT MY PENTHOUSE. THERE IS SOMETHING I WANT TO SHOW YOU.
His penthouse? She’d never even see his penthouse, although she had ordered all the nursery furniture and had it delivered there. She’d told herself there was no point in seeing his home if she wasn’t going to live there with him, but then came the realization that she’d have to see it someday, since her babies would be spending time there. And then, last night, David had gone on about being partners and living together. Now, though, she knew that was an impossibility.
“You going to the suite?” Margie asked, jumping up from the couch. Her energy was starting to annoy Diana who couldn’t walk across a room without feeling winded.
“No. He wants me to meet him at his penthouse.”
Margie pursed her lips. “Is that a good idea?”
Diana snorted. “What worse could he do to me?”
“Uh huh,” Margie sniffed. “Just be careful. Don’t let him lure you into his bed, like a magical sex panther.”
Picturing David as a sex panther wasn’t all that difficult, and it was hilarious, too. She chuckled.
“I promi
se not to let him lure me into his panther den with his magic penis.”
Margie threw her arms around Diana for a quick hug.
“Alright then. I have some errands to run, but text me when you think you’ll be home. I can make you some carnitas—I’ll make myself some veggie fajitas.”
“Okay.”
Once Margie was gone, Diana replied to David’s text.
ME: WHAT TIME?
Again, his answer was almost immediate.
DAVID: IN AN HOUR?
She checked the time. It was just eleven, which put the time for their meeting at lunch.
ME: ARE YOU FEEDING ME?
Immediate response.
DAVID: WHATEVER MY LADY DESIRES.
His lady? Her breath hitched at that.
ME: SAYING THAT MIGHT GET YOU INTO TROUBLE. YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT I MIGHT WANT.
Was she seriously flirting with him? Hell, she was all out of whack.
DAVID: NO MATTER WHAT YOUR HEART OR BODY DESIRES, I WILL GIVE IT TO YOU.
Her silly heart fluttered, followed by a much lower and wetter body part. Shit.
Sobering up, she typed.
ME: SEND ME THE ADDRESS.
He did. It was an address several miles from Margie’s apartment. Taking her car, the one David insisted she have, would be frustrating in weekend traffic, so she opted for a taxi—at least then she wouldn’t have to drive herself, giving herself time to think. To plan what she would say to David. And there was so much to say.
Taking her time to get ready, she showered, dressed in stretchy yoga pants and a pink sweater, and brushed then pulled her hair back into a messy bun. She wasn’t meeting with David to try and impress him, so there was no need to primp. Dressed, she checked the clock. She had thirty minutes to get to David’s place. Grabbing her purse (the big one that can double as a baby duffel) she headed downstairs. She reached the sidewalk just as a taxi was pulling in to drop of a fare. She snagged the taxi, giving the driver David’s address, and then she was off.
The ride was shorter than she anticipated, not that she was able to even get her thoughts in order long enough to form a plan of attack. And she’d need to attack, to go on the offensive, because she was tired of things happening to her rather than her doing something for herself. She hadn’t been that way until David.
Admit it…you like giving over some of the control. Yeah, she could admit that she liked having someone else to take on some of the burden of parenthood, but she did not like David thinking he could do and say whatever the hell he wanted without consequences.
Well, here comes the consequences, David Fucking Brenner.
The taxi pulled up to the address and she tapped her card to pay before exiting and staring up at the building. Gleaming glass and chrome, just like every other new build in the city.
Sucking in a breath, she squared her shoulders and marched toward the doors. The doorman opened them for her, bidding her welcome. She stopped at the desk inside the impressive lobby.
“I’m here to see David Brenner,” she said, watching the man in the black suit and tie stare at a small pink note.
“Ah, yes. Mr. Brenner called down to say he was expecting you. Take the elevator to the 71st floor. It opens right outside his front door.”
She thanked him and headed upstairs. The elevator doors opened right in front of an impressive white door, inlaid with gold. She rolled her eyes. Swallowing down her growing trepidation, she walked to the door and raised her hand to knock.
The door swung open, revealing a shirtless David wearing low slung jeans, socks, and a guilty smile.
“Come on in,” David entreated, his gray gaze lingering on her lips before snapping back up to her eyes. He pushed the door wide and spread his arms wide. “Welcome to my humble home.”
Diana crossed the threshold, her heart hammering, and a chuckle tore from her chest.
She blinked, her gaze catching on the opulence spread before her.
“You call this humble?” she snorted, teasing.
He chuckled in return. “Well…I am still working on baby proofing everything. I cannot tell you how frustrating it is to have to climb over a baby gate every time I need to piss.”
Diana couldn’t help but giggle at that. “Isn’t it a bit early to put up baby gates?” she asked, moving farther into the large open living area and tossing her purse on the nearest surface.
David shrugged, and Diana fought to keep her gaze from roaming over the expanse of sexy, tightly muscled man chest, and then dropping to take in the man’s six pack and delicious V.
“It’s never too early to be prepared. Besides, I have to get used to it, right?” He met her gaze, his eyes twinkling. She smiled, unable to stop her chest from tightening.
“I suppose so,” she answered, breaking eye contact to spin slowly and investigate David’s “humble” digs. David closed the door and moved to stand beside her. She felt his gaze on her, burning her. She didn’t look.
“You said you’d feed me,” she blurted, eager to end the heavy silence into which she’d thrown herself.
“Yes…well…” The sound of self-consciousness in his tone made her spin to gape at him. David lacked confidence in something. “I seemed to have burned your lunch.”
She drew herself up, tilting her head. She sniffed, an acrid scent hit her nostrils. “How so?”
He lifted his arm, his biceps flexing, to run a hand through his already disheveled hair. Damn, she’d never seen him look so…human. And it was beyond appealing.
“I tried to follow the instructions on the box, but I seemed to have forgotten to put in the milk. Also, I left the pot on the hot burner, which made the butter evaporate—needless to say, I’m never getting the smell of scorched processed cheese powder out of my nostrils.”
She choked back a laugh. “What did you make?”
His smile was sheepish. “I called your mom to ask her what your favorite lunch food was. She told me it was macaroni and cheese, but not just any macaroni and cheese, it has to be Kraft macaroni and cheese. I cannot tell you how difficult it is to find a store around here that doesn’t sell only organic foods. I had to go to a convenience store.” He sounded so put out and shell-shocked, Diana couldn’t hold back the laugh any longer.
She laughed, holding her belly as her giggles spilled from her.
Rather than sneer at her as she expected him to, David laughed along with her, the sound of his deep chuckles making her pussy ache. Damn.
Wiping the tears from her eyes, she asked, “Was any of it salvageable?”
His smile dropped. “I don’t think so, but you can take a look.”
David led her into the large, spacious, ridiculously clean chef’s kitchen. Well…mostly clean. The entire countertop on the left side of the stove, between the stove and sink was covered in the makings for macaroni and cheese. The box that clearly showed Kraft on the front, was lying on its side, the instructions facing out where David could read them.
God…the man tried. Give him some credit for that at least.
Why am I so bloody nervous? Oh, that’s right, my future is standing right in front of me and I feel like a bloody loser because I can’t even make simple macaroni and cheese from a box!
“You really did a number on this poor mac and cheese,” Diana remarked, a soft smile on her lovely face.
Keep it there!
“I am no home chef, that is for certain,” he teased, finding a strange joy in self-deprecation.
She snorted, her smile growing. “No, you are not.”
“We can order in?” he offered, hoping she was still willing to stick around after the macaroni and cheese debacle.
She met his gaze, her green eyes shining with something like wariness. He understood why she’d be wary, but he wanted to wipe that look from her eyes forever. He wanted her to trust him, to put her trust in him, and to let him take care of her as she deserved to be cared for. For as long as they both lived.
“I wouldn’t mind some of the m
ac and cheese from Panera,” she finally replied. “Oh, and a bowl of the cheddar broccoli soup, and two baguettes. And an unsweetened iced tea.” She rattled off the rest of her order then turned back to the pot on the stove.
“Right. I’ll go put on a clean shirt then order us some Panera—”
“Why is your shirt off in the first place?” she interrupted, her gaze pinned to his chest. Unthinking, he flexed, allowing the muscle beneath his taut skin to ripple. Her eyes drooped, growing hooded.
“I think you prefer me shirtless,” he purred, taking a step toward her. Her eyes widened, her nostrils flaring.
“W-well, of course I like you shirtless. What’s not to like? I just think it would be easier to have a conversation with you if you weren’t half naked.”
He chuckled, flexing once more before grinning at the blush that enveloped her face. Ah, yes, his goddess wasn’t immune to his charms yet.
I still have a chance.
“Well, I lost my shirt in the Cheese Powder Battle,” he grumbled gravely.
Her lips quirked. “Do tell.”
“Those damn cheese packets are harder to open than a zero-balance bank account. Once I struggled the damn thing open, I dumped nearly half the packet of cheese on my shirt. Thinking I could wipe it off with a damp towel, I merely stained my shirt orange.”
She was laughing at him again, but he welcomed her joy. He wanted to be the one to give her joy for always.
“How about you go put a shirt on and I order the food,” she volunteered, her green eyes twinkling merrily. Lord…she was gorgeous when she was happy.
Keep her that way.
He nodded. “Sounds good. Order me a turkey sandwich,” he said, grinning, before rushing off to his room to throw on the first t-shirt his hand encountered in his drawer. Pulling it on over his head, he realized what the shirt was… It was the shirt his mother sent him after he told her about the babies.
It was white with a large black arrow pointing down at his crotch with the words, “Super Baby Maker” over top of it. When he first got it, he’d been appalled, but then…he realized how true that statement was. Not that his cock was super, but that his babies were. They were miracles. Super babies. And he couldn’t be prouder to be their father.