Scoring the Billionaire(48)

"How many babies do you think were born today?" I asked her. I'd missed  her brilliance and wanted just a little taste of how superiorly her mind  worked.

"There are twenty-five babies in this nursery, a variable of probably  ten in their rooms, about five thousand, six hundred hospitals in the  US, so given the metropolis of New York versus the populous of  small-town America, probably somewhere around eleven thousand. In the  US."



Hot damn. Am I right?



"I bet Thatch and Cassie's baby is going to cause more trouble than the rest of them combined," I remarked.

Her eyes held mine, a progression so significant it helped in my effort  not to take offense to her looking at me like I was an absolute  imbecile.

In her mind, my little statement was so statistically impossible it was  laughable. That would be what embarrassed her about her parents-actual  stupidity.

God, I had the urge to pick her up and hold her tightly to my chest.

I want to be one of her biggest embarrassments.

I wanted to be everything to this beautifully brilliant little girl. I  wanted to be her father figure, one of the two biggest supporters in her  life.

I wanted her to be mine. My little girl.

"Lexi bug," I heard behind us, the rough voice of her uncle Remy and the  realization of what it meant making me squeeze her hand tighter.

He was here to pick her up, and I didn't know when I'd get to see her next.

The uncertainty nauseated me. I literally felt my stomach churn in  discomfort over the mere idea of never getting to take her to football  practice, of never getting to watch her focused little face while she  worked out a complicated algebraic equation that was no doubt over my  goddamn head. Birthdays, holidays, lazy Sundays at home.

I had no claim to any of it, and that was the worst kind of hell.

Lex turned immediately, a smile on her face for one of the great loves  of her life, and I did my best to go with her momentum instead of  fighting it. She didn't need any of my personal baggage adding to her  own.

"Wes," Remy greeted coolly as my gaze met his.

I didn't blame him.

A picture of a commitment-phobic, selfish version of me had been  painted, and my goddamn hand had been the one holding the brush.

"Hey, Remy," I said back, smiling and looking down into Lexi's excited  eyes. I'd scale any mountain, withstand any foray into the most awkward  of moments to keep that look on her innocent face.

Still, I couldn't help but poke the bear just a little.

"Spending time with your second-favorite uncle?" I asked. "Sounds like a good night to me."

"Second-favorite?" Remy muttered roughly, the outrage lashing so far out  of his throat it felt like the tip of a whip-but it was of the  pleasurable kind.

Lex giggled, and that was all it took to turn his scowl into a smile. She was his world.         

     



 

I just hoped he'd eventually understand she was mine too.

The dingy lights of the hospital shone more powerfully as the blond of Winnie's hair came into view behind Remy.

I looked straight past him, right to her, as I offered, "I can take Lexi  home if you need to stay here at the hospital for a while."

Remy's brows drew together briefly before looking over his shoulder to see his sister.

"Actually," Winnie said, "I'm meeting Nick for a late dinner."

Nick? Lexi's father? The one man who'd stupidly chosen his career over  this beautiful, perfect fucking woman and the most precious, brilliant  little girl in the world?

Fuck, this hurts.

Pain pierced my skin and flooded into my eyes enough that even Remy winced.

Holding out a hand to Lexi, he murmured, "Uh, Lex and I are gonna take off. You two can talk."

Translation: you need to.

We looked like mirror images of one another, both looking after their  retreating forms longingly. Lex looked back and waved, and both of us  smiled and waved back.

I wanted us to be doing it as a unit-but we couldn't have been further  apart emotionally if the entire span of Earth had been between us.

As silence stretched on, the threat of her date with Lexi's father  looming in the air, I knew it was now or never. I had to lay it on the  line and tell her how I'd felt since the beginning.

"I knew it would end this way," I blurted in admission, the heady mix of  thoughts and desires blurring my ability to organize any of them into a  helpful order.

She tilted her head to the side, and I watched as her blond hair slid  softly from her shoulder. She searched my eyes long enough that I  repeated my words.

"I did. I knew it would end this way."

"You knew what would end what way?" she asked, even though I was almost positive she knew both of the answers.

"Us," I clarified anyway. I looked her directly in the eyes, and my  heart seized at the truth there. Heartbreak. Longing. Unabashed  disappointment.

I pushed on anyway, hoping by some miracle I'd be able to make it better.

"I knew we would end badly. From that very first moment, I knew it would be a train wreck."

She looked like I'd slapped her, the red suffusing her cheek with the same intensity as if my hand had left its actual mark.

"Then, why?" she demanded. "Why go there at all if you knew?"

"Because," I told her honestly, hoping my heart was in my eyes. Because  now, unlike all the times before, I was actually trying not to hide it.  "It was unmistakably impossible not to." My voice dropped to a whisper.  "From the first moment my eyes met yours in that locker room, I knew I'd  never breathe another satiated breath until I had you."

I knew it came out wrong the second I said it, the words "had you"  implying something altogether uglier than the warmth and  affection-fucking love-that bled and pumped through my heart. She was  seeing my confession as something shallow, something I didn't want it to  be, and the urge to fix it came out garbled too.

"I wanted more than just to sleep with you."

Fuck, Wes, I mentally chastised. Enough with the goddamn past tense.

"I have to go," she breathed, turning to leave without a second thought.

And her mind wasn't the only one thinking in half measures. I reached  out and grabbed her, closing my fingers around her arm and pulling her  back toward me before the action even registered in my mind.

There was no plot or plan, not even a scheme for what would happen when I got her there, plastered against me.

But my body didn't need any incentive or explanation. My lips met hers  in a flash, the speed and intensity so vivid it was almost harsh, and  her intake of breath provided the perfect opportunity to touch my tongue  to hers.

She gave in at once, dancing a sensual dance with me for one heartbeat  and the next, until almost a full five seconds had passed and my hands  were holding on to her ass like a lifeline-and then sanity returned. For  her. As her hand connected with my face on a smack, I knew mine would  be gone for some time-quite possibly forever.

"Winnie," I whispered, desperation clawing from my throat and spilling past my lips.         

     



 

"No," she whispered fiercely. "I deserve better. Lex deserves better. And for fuck's sake, Wes, so do you."

And then she was gone-an empty hall, the quiet cries of innocence, and a broken heart all that were left to keep me company.

Fuck, I couldn't-no, I wouldn't let it end like this.

Not. Like. This.

I wanted Winnie and I wanted Lexi and I wanted our family.





The New York wind whipped around my face as I opened the door to  Gramercy Tavern. My cheeks felt like little ice cubes in response to the  short walk from the cab to the restaurant, hell, my entire body felt  like it had been doused in ice-cold water, but I had a feeling that had  nothing to do with the chilly, early spring weather.

I couldn't shake the racing thoughts of Wes and his words and how easily  I'd lost myself in that kiss. It had taken every ounce of willpower I  had to dig deep enough into the recesses of my brain-that seemed far too  content to feel Wes's lips against mine for the rest of forever-and  find rational thought in that moment.

Maybe it was a little overkill to actually slap him across the face-holy  shit-but I couldn't seem to stop these insane emotions when it came to  him. He quite literally drove me crazy.

You wouldn't care if you weren't still in love with him, my heart rationalized.

No kidding, Captain Obvious, my brain shouted back.

I wasn't sure if I would ever not be in love with Wes.

But I knew that I had to find a way to move forward, versus backward,  where I let myself give in to epically stupid moments like letting Wes  kiss me, and more than that, kissing him back with just as much fervor.

I made a beeline for the restroom, before heading to the table Nick had  reserved. I just needed a minute. Just a fucking minute to find my  sanity.

I felt like pieces of myself were scattered across the marble floor, and  I couldn't pick them up fast enough. I had too many emotions, too many  fucking feelings and no one to run to. No shoulder to cry on. No  comforting arms to find peace in.

Wes is that person. He is that person …