The Billionaire’s Baby(15)

Why wasn't Sebastian here with us?

True to my word, I'd declined knowing what the gender was. It drove Karina up the wall, but she was still convinced there was a little boy in there, especially when he really got to kicking against my ribs.

"Sebastian did the same thing." She said with a knowing and firm nod, "Little boys are always more violent in there."

I, on the other hand, wasn't as convinced.

I had dreams about meeting the little one so frequently now.

Harry listened patiently while I told him, as he iced blue and pink little cupcakes. Those were his favorite colors lately, as he fantasized about teaching the baby how to cook.

Of course I would let him be the teacher, I wouldn't have been any use.

It was so strange to think that it was almost time. Karina and I had explored the hospital suite, though it was more of a hotel and spa than a maternity ward.

My mother in law had certainly spared no expense. I was too tired and ready to meet the baby to try to persuade her to spend less.

We all sat together today in the bakery, my legs propped up in front of me as I massaged the sides of my massive belly.

It felt as though I were getting huger and huger every day. A plate of chocolate chip cookies sat balanced on the curve of my bump, though I would call it more of a mountain.

As the baby kicked, the plate swayed back and forth.

"He wants some cookies!" Lewis chuckled, sitting beside me with his ledger as he flipped through the pages, "Are you feeding that boy?"

"You think it's a boy too?" I sighed, frowning at the plate.

"I gotta keep Karina off my back." He murmured to me with a playful wink, scribbling down the week’s numbers.

I could hear Karina giggling form the kitchen, where Harry was apparently teaching her how to cut out decorative pie crusts.

Lately, her laughter had been becoming more and more frequent, a sparkle in her dark eyes. Yet, still, if you asked her, she declined that anything was happening between herself and the old chef Harry Bircham.

I'd noticed, though, that he'd kept his hair much more clean shaven, and his ever spirited eyes were even more so.

They both lit up when they saw each other, like firecrackers in the middle of summer.

Lewis and I pretended as though things hadn't changed between us, though they had.

I felt my heart skip when he smiled at me. When we sat close, as we did now, I wanted to reach out and touch him, tracing the line of the sweet dimple in his cheek.

He laughed so readily, spoke so easily, and I hardly felt married anymore. It was as though Sebastian would rather work in London than be here with me. Or was I just desperately trying to explain away my attraction to another man while already married?

Would anything with Sebastian change when the baby came? Would I be able to depend on him at all?

He provided me and the baby with money and a roof over our heads, that was for sure, but I needed more than that, it became more and more clear to me every day. I wanted more than that, and I wanted more than that for my child.

"I want you to stay after Karina and Harry leave tonight." He said suddenly, not looking up from his books, his face remaining unchanged.

Surprised, I tilted my head, staring at the handsome blond curiously, "What?" I asked.

"Tonight. Stay with me for a little while, I have something to show you." He responded, going quiet as Karina once again entered the main room of the bakery.

Flour clung to her cheek and the sleeve of her burgundy pantsuit.

"I'll have you know that I'm a master pastry chef now." She said coyly, sinking down into a chair beside me as I beamed at her. She snatched one of the cookies, nibbling the crisp edge.

"Oh really?" I teased, "I Suppose we'll have to let Harry go then."

"Nonsense." She quipped quickly, frowning at me as though I'd ruined her fun.

"How are your ankles?" She continued, sparing them a glance, "They’re getting wider and wider every day." She sighed, shaking her head, "Mine never did such a thing."

Oh Karina, some things never change.

I laughed, shaking my head again and choosing to ignore her words. You pick your battles, after all, "I feel just fine."

"Good. You should be in bed, resting." My mother in law said as she fiddled her phone out of her pocket, "Sebastian is concerned you do too much."

The laughter left me, sourness spreading instead, "Why would he be concerned?" I muttered, "He doesn't bother to ever ask me how I'm doing."

I had heard Sebastian's voice three times in the five months he'd been gone, each time when Karina would hand me her phone.

"He asks about you constantly." She responded, voice going slightly soft, "You know he cares."

No, in fact, I did not know.