Christmas Baby for the Billionaire (South Shore Billionaires 1)

“Look at the menu,” he suggested. “I’ll say everything’s good, but you should make your selections based on what you like. Especially if there’s something the baby doesn’t like, or you can’t eat while you’re pregnant.”

She lifted her gaze to his. “Has someone been doing some reading?”

“Maybe. When I sent the grocery list to my housekeeper—Melissa, by the way—I wanted to get some things you like and...well, healthy things.”

She pointed to the list of sweets on the tea menu. “These are not healthy, and I am going to enjoy several.”

He laughed. “Good.”

He ordered a plain black tea for himself, while Tori went for a more aromatic Earl Grey. All around them was the clink of silverware on china, the hum of conversations. Tea arrived, and their tray of delights—finger sandwiches of cucumber, salmon, and turkey, perfect scones with Devonshire cream and lemon curd, and a selection of pastries and sweets that nearly made her teeth ache just looking at them. The entire hour, eating and chatting and people watching, was a dream come true. No matter what happened in their future, she’d always have this day to remember.

She’d told him once she wasn’t Cinderella, but she was surely feeling like it now. She was in the hotel business, was assistant manager to an upscale resort, but the Sandpiper and all its wonderful amenities paled in comparison to this.

It was like a mansion being compared to a palace.

“Have the last scone,” Jeremy suggested. “I can tell you love the cream with the preserves.”

They were a bit of heaven for sure. She didn’t argue, didn’t protest, just reached for the light-as-air scone and smeared it with strawberry, then topped it with cream and popped it in her mouth.

“I love watching you eat,” he said, a smile lighting his face.

She nearly choked on a crumb. “Er...what?”

“I just mean you like food. You don’t pretend not to.”

Oh, goodness. He was probably used to stick women who starved themselves or something. Or perhaps her manners were lacking. How mortifying.

“Don’t worry, it’s a compliment. You’re real, Tori. It’s one of the things I like about you.”

“Are you sure? Because I’m pretty confident I have scone crumbs on my dress now and sadly when we get home and I take these boots off my ankles are probably going to swell from all the walking and stuff we did today.”

“Real,” he repeated. “Flesh and blood. No pretending to be someone you’re not, no putting on airs to try to impress me. You are who you are and you’re comfortable with it. That kind of confidence is rare.”

She didn’t know what to say. She was very aware that she’d gained a few pounds with the baby and some of it was due to potato chips. And until now, she hadn’t really cared. She understood he was paying her a compliment. But she hadn’t considered confidence before. “I mean, I guess I just am who I am. I’m not sure I can change for anyone, or be a chameleon.”

“I would hope not.” He leaned forward. “Because you’re normal, you see? And when I’m with you, I feel normal, too.”

“Are you lonely, Jeremy?”

“Sometimes. I have my friends and all, and my sister and I are semi close, but it’s not the same as being...”

This time his voice drifted off, and he looked away for a moment.

“Intimate with someone?”

His gaze came back to hers. “Yeah. And not just physically, though that’s not a problem with you either, it seems.”

The baby must have enjoyed the tea as well, because it was moving around fairly consistently. She absently rubbed a hand over the curve, mindlessly soothing. But Jeremy noticed, and his face softened.

“I want us to be a family somehow. You should know that.”

Nerves quivered in her stomach. “We will be. No matter what we decide to do. Because we’re going to raise this baby together. Okay?”

He nodded.

When their tea was cleared away, he helped her put her cape back on, tenderly buttoning the top button. She picked up her new wristlet containing her phone and cards, and as Jeremy placed his hand along the small of her back, she caught a glimpse of a woman, probably in her fifties, watching them with a soft smile on her face. Tori smiled back shyly and as they passed the woman’s table, she said, “Congratulations.”

“Oh! Thank you,” she answered, pressing her hand on her belly as a reflex.