Christmas Baby for the Billionaire (South Shore Billionaires 1)

“And straight down to the beach. Not the one by the inn, but a kilometer or so down the coast. It’s not as big, but it’s lovely. And it’s on private property.”

They found the for-sale sign close to the end of the lane, but the gate was closed. Tori looked so disappointed that he picked up his cell and dialed the number for the agent.

Then he turned to Tori with a smile. “He can be here in twenty minutes. It’s vacant—do you want to get out and walk the property?”

“I could stand to walk off some lunch,” she replied, her eyes brightening again. “I’m gonna confess, Jeremy. I’ve always wanted to see this property. I’ve seen it from the water. I had no idea it was for sale, though.”

“Then let’s go.”

He parked the car along the side of the lane, then took Tori’s arm as they navigated their way around the small gate that was more for show than security. The drive was about a hundred and fifty yards long through a stand of trees, but then it opened up to a cleared yard and a property that was smaller and less grand than the others they’d seen, but impressive just the same.

“Oh, wow,” Tori breathed, letting go of his arm as she moved forward. “Look at that.”

The outside of the house was done in gray siding with white trim, with an oversize front door and stone steps and a stone walkway leading toward the drive. He’d seen and dismissed this property listing earlier in the week; at under three thousand square feet and a price tag below a million, it was less than what Branson was looking for. That didn’t detract in any way from its charm. Under the film of snow, they saw stone gardens dotted with evergreen shrubs, and other areas that would no doubt sprout into a profusion of perennials come spring. The back of the house faced the water, and a path that ended in a set of steps led to the white-sand beach below. A quick assessment told Jeremy that the property probably included about three hundred feet or more of shoreline.

Tucked away in a corner was another smaller building, what Jeremy would have assumed was a converted boathouse. It too was gray, but with shaker shingles and a charming red front door. He was acutely aware of Tori at his side, eyes wide, falling in love with the place.

Her current house was about the size of the boathouse, certainly under a thousand square feet. Charm galore, but tiny.

“Oh, isn’t this lovely?” She peeked into the front window. “It could be a guesthouse, or...” She turned to him, her eyes bright. “Something the owners could rent out or something. I mean, it’s nicer than renting a room or basement. Guests would have their own space. I wonder if there’s a little kitchen. It’s cute as anything.”

She was beautiful like this, so animated and with her eyes full of possibilities. It was what made her sweet, what made her entirely suited for her job at the Sandpiper. As she circled the little house, he realized with a sinking heart that she belonged here. She wasn’t the kind to be happy in the city, was she? She loved the ocean, the open spaces, the wildness. It was as different from New York as sun from rain.

And he couldn’t live here. Oh, financially he didn’t need to work another day in his life if he didn’t want to. But he’d be miserable otherwise. He needed a purpose. A challenge.

By the time she’d finished examining the lot, the Realtor arrived and was ready to show them the house. Inside was just as stunning as he’d imagined, with surprises in some of the detail, such as the iron-and-glass doors to a hidden patio. The iron was in the pattern of lilies, scrolling up through the glass. It was one of the nicest custom-made pieces he’d seen, and that was saying something. There were three large bedrooms upstairs, sweeping views, a chef’s delight of a kitchen, and a garden with a stone firepit in the back.

“Oh, look. That’s so pretty! And you could put chairs around it and have fires and roast marshmallows in the summer. And hear the ocean.” Tori stood at the window, her face nearly touching the glass. “I know you said it wasn’t on your list, but this is my favorite one yet.”

&nb

sp; “It’s a bit small for the client. But you’re right. It’s a wonderful property. How long has it been on the market?”

The Realtor, who’d been wisely letting the house speak for itself, stepped forward. “Since September.”

“Really.” Jeremy lifted an eyebrow.

“It’s not really a seller’s market at the moment, as I’m sure you know.” There was no harm in saying it, Jeremy knew exactly what the market was like and the other man knew it. “But the owners don’t want to sell it for less than it’s worth.”

Of course not. And in truth, they could have added a good fifty-to-one-hundred thousand to the price and it would still be a good deal.

“I’ll keep it in mind for other clients,” Jeremy said, offering his hand. “Thanks for coming out today.”

“My pleasure.”

They stepped outside the house again and walked down the lane to where they’d parked the car. Tori lifted her hand in a friendly wave as the Realtor passed them on the way by. He smiled to himself; it was such a small-town thing to do.

They settled back into his car and started on the short drive back to the hotel. Tori sank into the seat and let out a sigh, resting her hand on her tummy. It was such a maternal gesture that his heart wrenched a little. She was going to be a good mother. There was genuine warmth and gentleness to her and he was at least thankful that his child would be in a happy, nurturing environment.

He cast his eyes back onto the road again. He was already thinking in terms of his child living with her as if everything was already settled. Was that really what he wanted? To just back off and leave his kid here, while he returned to his previously scheduled life, with occasional visits so his son or daughter at least knew what he looked like?

He thought back to his upbringing, and his gut twisted. He actually couldn’t remember what his father looked like, and it had taken many, many years for him to stop hoping that one day Brett Fisher would show up for his birthday or for Christmas, and take him away from the cold, lonely life he led. He refused to let any kid of his feel that way—always looking out the window, wondering if his father would come, disappointed when he didn’t, only to have his hopes raised and dashed again and again.

What was the alternative?

They arrived back at the hotel and he got out and opened Tori’s door before she had a chance to. She smiled up at him and his stomach twisted again, this time not out of pain but out of confusion. In some ways Tori was a stranger. They’d spent a few weeks having some fun, and now a few days talking. But in other ways, she was more than that. His feelings were complicated by desire and concern and, he realized, a bit of fear.

Because he liked her, dammit. And wanted her. And the baby they’d made would join them together forever.