Surprise Baby for my Billionaire Boss

“Yeah, I never could resist a good funnel cake,” Trent says as we lean against a fence while devouring our treat and watch the painted ponies gallop in their never-ending circle. “Or a girl who appreciates them as much as I do.”

With his sly grin, thinly-concealed compliments, and his eyes reflecting the twinkle from the carnival lights strung overhead, I don’t need a psychology degree to know what he’s thinking, or what he’s hoping for before the night’s over. Since he lives out of town, and the chance of me seeing him again is remote, I find myself actually thinking about letting it play out. A smile, a hug, maybe a kiss or two… what harm could that do? I wouldn’t let it go farther than that. Anything to get my mind off my troubles, however briefly.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” I say, returning his smile.

“Please do. Meant as such,” he replies, winking.

I swallow the last bites of my cake as he watches me and licks the sugar dust from his lips. They’re nice lips. He turns toward me and takes a step closer.

“Oops, you got a little there,” he says, reaching out and brushing the same powdery remnants from the corner of my mouth. “Can’t have such a pretty face covered up, even with sugar.” He glides his thumb back and forth over my candy-coated lips, and I’m locked into his dark gaze that seems to hypnotize me.

I can’t move as he leans in, cups my chin in his hand and kisses me, the cinnamon and sugar sealing our lips together in unexpected sweetness.

Chapter Twelve

Logan

When Worlds Collide

“Ice cream, Daddy,” Rose says, pointing to a brightly lit booth. “I want ice cream.”

“Maybe we’ll get some on our way home,” I say, clutching her little hand tightly. I had second thoughts about bringing Rose to a place where she could easily get l

ost in a crowd, but the temptation of rides, clowns, and food was too powerful to resist and provided the perfect distraction for both my daughter and me.

I think I needed the break even more than Rose. With Jolene growing bolder in her demands to see Rose I’ve been pressing hard for the restraining order to be dispensed. I half-expect to see her at every corner, popping up from behind a bush or skulking at the end of the block like a damn stalker. The bureaucratic wheels turn agonizingly slow, and I know she’s using this time to build a case with the family courts. Worse, Rose seems to have some memory of the night she spent at Lila’s and keeps asking about the “loud lady at Grandma’s” in addition to where Quinn has gone. I have no answers for either question that a four-year-old will understand, nor have I mentioned anything about moving again.

“I want some now,” Rose whines.

“If you eat ice cream now, you can’t go on the merry-go-round,” I say. “You’ll get a tummy ache. You want to ride the merry-go-round, don’t you?” Her yearning for a puppy has recently been replaced by requests for a pony, so I know she wants to ride the carousel in the worst way.

“Yes!” she says, yanking my hand and pulling me forward. I should be putting her to bed right about now, but since it’s a weekend and this carnival will be gone by Monday, I decide to indulge her and not worry about time. The downside is that being on the ASU campus makes me think of Quinn and sends a familiar stab of guilt through my gut. I hope she’s alright, and wonder how she’s coping, but I know my interests run deeper than that. As badly as Rose wants a pony, I want Quinn back in our lives; but I guess we all have our fantasies. This is reality. With a twinge of bitter regret, I know she’ll forget about me in the arms of the next hulking college football star she meets.

“There’s the merry-go-round!” Rose shrieks.

I buy the tickets and stand in the queue for our turn. “What color horse shall we ride?” I ask, perusing the parade of carousel ponies as they spin.

“I wanna ride by myself,” Rose says, sounding almost indignant. “I’m a big girl.”

I chuckle at her feisty declarations. As much as I want to keep her safe, learning to be independent is a critical life skill. I know that better than anyone. “Okay, but don’t say I didn’t offer.” Rose allows me onto the platform only long enough to select a pink pony and lift her onto its back. “You hang on to these reins, see? Don’t let go,” I instruct.

I retreat to the nearby crowd of parent onlookers and try to still my thumping heart as the ride starts up and gains speed. Rose gives me an enthusiastic wave.

“Hold those reins!” I shout with cupped hands around my mouth, and I smile as she obediently clutches the braided rope around the horse’s neck. I watch vigilantly for the next several spins, and can’t hold back a wash of pride as she handles the ride without difficulty. I let out a relieved breath, and relax enough to take in the surroundings while Rose is occupied.

It’s a clear, starry night and the carnival lights just add to the magic. I didn’t experience a carnival until my teens, hanging with my other streetwise friends and finding trouble to get into. Carnivals were ideal places for that. A veritable Shangri-La for pickpockets and con men. I surreptitiously check for my wallet as I scan the area for shady activity.

Over by the fence between the carousel and the kiddie cars I see a young couple standing close together, engaged in a different kind of activity, but no less shady. The tall boy has his hands on her butt, and his lips locked on hers. The girl’s blonde hair glows in the surreal light of overhead bulbs and neon signs. She reminds me of Quinn, and I stave off a painful convulsion in my chest region.

I feel like a creep but can’t tear my eyes away from the scene. The vibration in my chest escalates to a burning tightness when I realize what I’m seeing. It is Quinn! But I have no idea who the horny young buck is with his paws all over her and his tongue practically in her throat.

The lights and sounds fade to a dull, indistinct background against the clear sharpness of my focus on the two of them. My body seems to move through an expanding tunnel, running forward but getting no closer. Suddenly I’m within arm’s reach, my hot hand on the boy’s shoulder.

“Get off her, douchebag,” I snarl, my voice dripping with menace.

I haul him off Quinn with the force of a bulldozer, knocking him into the fence behind. He stumbles and grabs hold of the railing, and I catch Quinn as she loses her balance.

“What the fuck, buddy!” the kid yells, ready to launch himself at me in retaliation.