The Billionaire's Pregnant Fling (Jameson Brothers 2)

"Yes, sir." He immediately wished he could take back his automatic assent. All he could do was wince at the way it hung in the air between them.

"So you'll be able to persuade her to marry right away," Jonathan continued. "And before anyone else finds out she's pregnant. You'll do everything in your power to provide for her every need. You'll make things right by her, Eddie. I know you will."

And you'll make things right by me, was Jonathan Daley's unspoken promise. Or else.

Chapter Four

Eddie

Eddie sat, too stunned to move, agree, or protest the two possible futures Margot's father had just outlined for him.

He couldn't deny that it added up. Proposing marriage to Margot had never even crossed his mind, but now that Jonathan had laid it out for him...why hadn't he thought of it before? An official union would save Margot and her family from any potential embarrassment, and ensure that Eddie's own family—not to mention clients—understood that he really had turned over a new, more responsible leaf. Besides that, it would be the right thing to do. It would be a bigger gesture than the one he had planned originally, and a more total display of his commitment. Everyone would approve.

Jonathan was watching him process, before the buzzing of his cellphone drew his attention away. "I'll leave you to it," he said. "Just do my daughter a favor and don't think too long." Jonathan clapped him on the shoulder one last time in parting, and rose to go.

"Mr. Daley...just a second…"

Eddie moved to go after him, but a hand locked around his bicep and arrested him in place. He turned to find Sam staring at him with eyes as steely blue as his grip. There were two freshly-cracked beers already planted on the bar behind him.

"Sam. Shit."

"Sit down, Eddie," Sam advised.

"I'm hungover, remember?" Eddie gestured to the beer, but sat down anyway. He knew there was no escaping the conversation he was about to have. Judging by the look on Sam's face, his brother had already overheard everything.

"I don't care. Drink," Sam ordered.

Eddie complied. His stomach turned in momentary revolt as he took his first sip, but a cold, foamy beer wasn't a bad replacement for the soda he had been nursing all evening. He propped his elbows up on the bar alongside his brother and took a deep, measured breath.

Sam beat him to the punch. "Jonathan Daley is one tough bastard, huh?"

Eddie expelled his long breath in a surprised laugh. Of all the things he had expected Sam to say to him, he had not expected him to present himself as an ally. The evening was still early, and there was still plenty of time for Sam to shred him, but he felt more grateful than he knew how to express for his brother's opening remark.

"Yeah." Eddie raised his beer, and the two brothers clinked them together in solidarity. "I'm guessing you overheard everything," he added.

Sam nodded. "What are you going to do?"

"Isn't that the question?" Eddie laughed, but his mind was still spinning with everything that had happened to him in the past twenty-four hours. He wished he had Sam's uncanny ability to mentally parse and pursue the best course of action, but maybe sitting across from him at the bar was the second best thing. "What do you think I should do?

"You know I can't make that decision for you." Sam's piercing blue eyes studied him. "And I'm not going to bring company matters into this, either."

Eddie snorted, even though he could tell his brother was in earnest. Sam had only just recently learned to separate his personal life from his professional one, so to hear him promise as much now was certainly a gesture of love...even if it sounded unrealistic to Eddie. Did Sam really expect him not to factor Jonathan Daley's threat into his ultimate decision? He could weigh all the consequences and arrive at the best course of action to do right by everyone. He could multitask.

"Were you being truthful?" Sam prodded. "About caring for Margot all this time?"

"All this time." The confirmation should have come more readily, but Eddie still wasn't used to the torch he had always carried for Margot being semi-public knowledge. God, if he could have done this--any of this--differently, he would have planned it out better. He would have put his all into wooing the woman of his dreams and proving he wasn't the untamable, irresponsible man she thought he was. He would have made it easy, effortless, right for her to decide if she wanted to reciprocate. There wouldn't be an unexpected pregnancy, and all the outside duress that came with trying to do right by the baby while making everyone else happy. To his mind, Margot probably thought she had as few options as he did at this point. How could he be sure she would agree to marry him for the right reasons? What if she had already gotten him out of her system, or worse—what if her feelings for him had soured the moment those two pink strips materialized and changed the course of her life forever?

He would just have to cross that bridge when they came to it. He had already postponed meeting with her today, using the excuse of his hangover and the upcoming client mixer to hold off until next week. Maybe he was just a coward. Maybe he couldn't stand to know the truth of what Margot wanted.

All he could focus on now was what Margot needed.

"Do you want to marry her?" Sam's next question broke through his inner musings. Eddie blinked. He had almost forgotten where he was, and who he was with. That had been happening a lot since his passionate night with Margot two months ago. The woman his childhood friend had grown into was becoming all he could think about.

"I want a relationship with her," Eddie confirmed. "Her and the baby. I'm twenty-eight, Sam. Maybe it's time for me to grow up. Maybe that time is long overdue."

"Would you want all these same things even if there wasn't a baby in the equation?"

"I'm in...I've always loved Margot." Somehow it didn't sound as damning to phrase the truth differently. He wasn't lying, but he also wasn't highlighting a vulnerability. Margot needed someone she could depend on; not someone who had pined for years and wrapped himself up in less-storied drama with other women.