The Billionaire’s Naughty List (Cam Show Crush)

16. Lily

Three years later

Elliot’s chuckle is dark and rich in my ear. I smack his shoulder, smiling.

“Shh…”

“Hmm…see, that’s the beauty of this house, kitten. Emily and your dad are on the opposite side of the cabin. There’s no chance our little monster can hear us from his sleepover in Grandpa Colt’s rooms. Now, if you don’t mind, I have important business with Mrs. Claus.”

I grin like a Cheshire cat every time he reminds me that I’m now his wife. That I gave up my singleness almost two and a half years ago. These days, he’s my number one fan since I no longer have an OnlySantas account. That suits both of us, but I still like to put on the occasional show and he’s only too happy to watch.

Sometimes we sneak out here to the cabin and recreate that first livestream. And just like that time, when I’m done, he claims his cam girl.

“Important business?”

The cabin is quiet because it’s Christmas Eve. My menagerie of dogs are tucked in their beds near the fireplace. Upstairs, my brothers are squared away in their rooms. Our son, Easton, has his grandfather wrapped around his pudgy one-year-old finger. I’ve never seen my dad so…mellow. It’s like he’s a different person these days. Softer, gentler. Plenty of that is thanks to Emily. But a large dose is the little brown-eyed boy who he takes everywhere. Riding horses, playing with the barn kittens.

Easton spends the night with Grandpa Colt and GG Emily every chance he gets. Which is a lot, now that Elliot and I have built a house up the hill from the home where I grew up.

We divide our time between there and the city. One of these days, I’ll actually open my doggy day spa. But I’ve been too busy using Elliot’s connections and money helping homeless animals around the world. He’s only too happy about it, since I’m always with him and whatever makes me happy, makes him happy.

With promises of Santa and presents, everyone is on their best behavior. Except my husband.

“Mhmm. I think it’s time to put another baby inside you.” He splays a massive hand over my lower belly, a mischievous grin tugging his lips. “And by my calendar?—”

Of course, my computer geek of a husband tracks my cycle.

Shaking my head, I huff a laugh. “Stop talking and get to work, handsome.”

“My pleasure, Mrs. Claus. My absolute pleasure.”