Christmas Baby for the Billionaire (South Shore Billionaires 1)

“And your parents? Are they both back in New York?”

“My mother is in Connecticut. My father lives in the Virgin Islands. They divorced when I was little.”

He picked up his sandwich and took a bite, but his face was set in a grim expression even as he chewed. Her heart sank a bit. It would be a shame if he wasn’t close with his family. What would that mean for their child?

“Cousins? Favorite aunts and uncles?”

He swallowed and wiped his fingers on his napkin. “What’s the point of this family tree examination?”

All the warmth from earlier was gone from his voice, and she withdrew a little bit. “We just...don’t know much about each other, that’s all. And it seems strange under the circumstances. Besides...” She lifted her chin a bit. “These people are going to be our baby’s family, too. Isn’t it right I know more about them?”

He took a drink of water and put down his glass, then placed his napkin on the table as he rose. “I’m sorry, but I really should head out to my appointment. Thank you for lunch.”

He took a step to pass the table and she reached out to put a hand on his arm. “Is your family so bad you won’t even talk about them?”

He looked down at her, and she couldn’t read his eyes at all. They were flinty gray and shuttered, keeping her from seeing anything too personal. “It’s not something to discuss over lunch.”

“Then later?”

He moved his arm out from beneath her hand. “I’ve got to go, Tori.”

The way he said her name at the end told her he wasn’t as closed off as he appeared. Perhaps what they really needed was some time away from prying eyes to discuss properly what the pregnancy meant—to both of them.

“Drive carefully,” she replied and shifted in her seat, letting him off the hook.

When he was gone she tried to finish her sandwich, but her appetite had gone with him.

* * *

The hot shower was exactly what Jeremy needed after the long day. This afternoon he’d visited three different properties along the South Shore, looking for the perfect home for his client, Branson Black, who was also a former classmate and one of his closest friends. Black was nearly as rich as Jeremy, but he wanted little to do with the money, which Jeremy couldn’t quite understand. His instructions were to find a property with a vie

w of the ocean and away from just about everything else. Jeremy was all about giving the client what he or she wanted, but he worried that Bran was trying to hide away from life and not just recover from recent trauma.

Still, he’d found one that he felt was perfect, and under three million. It even came with its own lighthouse, which, of course, was defunct but still lent the property an air of history and uniqueness. He had appointments to see several others during the week, though, before narrowing the choices down to send to Bran.

Being next to the ocean all day, walking the properties, had chilled him to the bone. He’d warmed himself during walk-throughs and by cranking the heat in the car, but the hot shower and warm hotel were more than welcome once he returned.

The hotel might be cozy, but Jeremy’s thoughts were not.

He kept messing things up with Tori. He should have known that she’d start asking questions about his family. She was that type. Girl-next-door, nurturing, home-and-family type. He’d always been able to spot them because theirs had been so very different from his own upbringing. Last summer she’d talked about her mom a lot, and missing her dad, and Jeremy had always changed the subject. She didn’t need to know that his dad had walked out when he was a little boy and that his mother hadn’t been much of a mother at all; she’d left that to the nannies—plural, because his mother tended to hire young women looking to gain some “adventure” by working for rich families for a year or two and then moving on. Some had been nice. Some had been tolerable, more excited about the money and their days off. The last one had had an affair with his stepfather, and that had been the end of the nannies and the beginning of the talk about boarding school. His stepdad had stayed. Jeremy had been sent away.

But it had been a blessing, really. When he’d finished middle school, he’d been sent to out-of-the-way Merrick Hall. And there he’d found his family—of sorts. Including Branson.

He tugged on a warm sweater and called down to room service for dinner. When it was delivered forty minutes later, he opened the door to find Tori’s soft face behind the cart.

“Room service,” she said softly, and offered a timid smile.

He couldn’t find it in himself to stay irritated. He opened the door wide and let her in, watching her hips sway as she moved the cart into the room. He swallowed thickly. Tori Sharpe was no less attractive now than she’d been five months ago. There was a subtle sexuality about her that was alluring. And when she turned around and the gentle swell of her tummy was visible, his heart gave a little thump. That was his child in there. He had no idea what to do but he knew for sure he wanted to be a better dad than his own had been.

“It’s late. I didn’t think you’d still be working,” he said, then realized how critical he must sound right now. “Thank you for bringing it,” he added, trying to be less of a jerk. After all, he’d walked out of their lunch like a coward.

“I waited for you to come back,” she admitted, her dark eyes troubled. “I didn’t like how we left things at lunch, and I wanted to say I was sorry for prying.”

“You had a right to ask those questions. It’s not your fault I don’t like answering them.”

She folded her hands in front of her. “You should eat while it’s hot. Let me set this up for you.”

He watched as she set a place at the small table and chair by the window of the suite, poured his beer into a glass and whisked the cover off his entrée to reveal a glistening steak surrounded by roasted potatoes, grilled asparagus and button mushrooms in garlic butter. It smelled heavenly, and his stomach growled in response.