Twin Babies with the Billionaire for Christmas

24. Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Four

Tristan

I’ve arranged for the limo to pick up Danny at his care home tomorrow in the late afternoon.

Nancy agreed to prepare a bunch of the food ahead of time and to leave instructions for how to cook the turkey before she took off to see her kids for the Christmas weekend.

I had called Danny and made sure that he still wanted to come. He sounded upbeat about being able to spend the holidays with someone else besides his caregivers and the other people who live at his center, so I took heart in that. At least I would be able to share the holiday plans I had made with someone.

I feel a pang about Rachel missing out on all the fun, but part of me does understand.

I hadn’t offered her much to cling to when it came to the personal side of our connection. I know I’m not that great at this part of relationships. I never have been.

And because I’m not that great at the process of truly connecting with someone and making them want to spend time with me, I’m not that great at figuring out what to do when things go south.

It has always just seemed easier to let the person go.

I always figured there were lots of fish in the sea, and they would find someone that was a better match and I would just carry on being alone.

I kind of like being by myself, and overall, being a loner has worked well for me for most of my life.

However, with Rachel, it’s different. The last thing on earth that I want is for her to find someone else to spend the holidays with. I don’t want to spend even a single day without her. It makes me livid to think about someone else dating her, marrying her, supporting her career.

I close the door to my closet with more force than necessary and sigh, running a hand through my hair. I really need to think of a way to make all of this better, or I’m going to go crazy.

I don’t want to examine too closely the reason that I invited Danny over for Christmas despite his sister’s refusal to talk to me.

It’s like I’m hoping that she will get annoyed and come over too. But it’s also a sad commentary on how empty my life is that I don’t have anyone else to spend the holidays with.

I decide to bake some cookies to make myself feel better and I meander into the kitchen to start working on that project.

As I create the batter and drop chocolate chips into it, I ponder the idea that I’m going to be a father. I don’t know for sure that the baby is mine, but it seems really unlikely that it would be anyone else’s.

Rachel and I have been thick as thieves due to her work on the book if nothing else. I don’t know when she would have had time to fool around with someone else.

Neither of us had the best childhood. I presume that part of the reason that she hasn’t told me about the baby is because she’s been spiraling about her own parenting skills and warring with herself about ending up in a long-term relationship that she never really wanted to be in.

But does she want to be with someone else? It’s hard for me to imagine that there is anyone else on earth who could give her the kind of mind-blowing sex we have enjoyed. And I have to assume that she is at least feeling a fraction of the connection that I have been enjoying from the moment I met her.

Being around her just feels good. It feels right. She seemed to feel the same way up until everything with the scandal. How can I convince her to come back around?

I suddenly hear the buzzer that indicates that someone is in the lobby wanting to come up. Frowning, I cross the kitchen to press the button to talk with the lobby speaker.

“Hello?”

“It’s me,” she says, and my heart grows light in my chest. “Let me come up. We need to talk.”

I almost forget to buzz her in because my hands are shaking. I try to get control over myself. What is wrong with me?

Is she finally going to tell me about the baby? Does she want me to know that she’s moving away? There are so many things that occur to me, and all of the thoughts are jumbling up in my brain as I try to prepare myself to see her again.

It’s only been a few days. I really shouldn’t be this excited and nervous to see her. I feel like a kid with his first crush.

“Come on up,” I say, buzzing her through. I stare at the intercom for a moment, trying to figure out how to feel. What do I say to her? Do I apologize yet again? Do I invite her over for Christmas Eve? What do I do?

I settle for crossing the room to stand by the elevator doors. I lean against the wall and wait, my heart racing.

When the elevator slides open, we just stare at one another for a beat, neither of us sure what to say.

“I’m sorry,” we both say at the same time.

I feel a grin break out across my face and watch as she slowly smiles back.

She wanders into the room, stopping a few paces away from me, her hands in the pockets of her trench coat. Now that I know what I’m looking for, I can see the healthy glow of her pregnancy shining forth.

She looks beautiful, even if a little sad and worried.

“I’m so sorry about the…scandal,” I say and I mean it.

She nods. “I’m sorry for shutting you out. I guess you’ve probably heard that I lost my publisher over this?” She wanders over to the Christmas tree and touches the spiky branch closest to her, a wistful smile on her face.

I sigh. “Yeah, Cara told me. I think they are being short-sighted. It’s not like you have a habit of sleeping with your clients.”

She chuckles a little, the sound so soft I wonder if I actually heard it.

“I knew we shouldn’t be doing this,” she says with a little shake of her head. “But I was selfish and let it happen anyway. Now I am paying the price.”

My chest aches at her words. Paying the price . I hate that she thinks of us that way, that we are a mistake that she has made. I want to make her feel differently, but I know that’s not really up to me.

I watch her tugging at the bristly needles of the Christmas tree, trying to figure out what to say. Finally, I turn and walk to my room. I see her turn to look after me, and I can imagine her furrowed brow.

I come back with my arms crossed behind my back, and then I bring out the hand that is holding the three pregnancy tests. Her face falls, and she looks up at me with worry in her emerald eyes.

“When were you going to tell me?” I ask her. My tone doesn’t indicate my feelings, and frankly, I still don’t quite know how I feel about the pregnancy.

I haven’t had time to process it like you’re supposed to. Having to find out by accident, when I was all alone, had gotten in the way of that.

“Oh, fuck,” she breathes. “I forgot I shoved those into the drawer in the bathroom here. I…took more tests after the first ones, just to be sure.”

She looks down at her feet, scraping her toe under the edge of the throw rug in front of the fireplace.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I ask her, wishing I didn’t sound so hurt.

She meets my gaze again, her expression pleading. “I was just…shocked, you know? And then the whole thing with Denise happened, and my apartment flooded, and we had that fight, and…” Her voice trails off. “There just didn’t ever seem to be the right time,” she finishes a bit lamely.

I nod, leaning over to set the pregnancy tests on the coffee table. “I’m not mad,” I say to her, even though I am hurt. I meet her gaze and give her a partial smile.

“But are you…do you…I mean…do you want to help with…the baby?” she stammers out, flushing.

I grin at her. “Of course,” I say. There’s so much more that I want to tell her, but I feel like this is enough for the moment.

A slow smile spreads over her face, and she hurries over to me to throw herself into my hug. I rock her back and forth and kiss the top of her head. It feels good to be holding her against me.

“I was just afraid that you’d be angry, or that you’d just want me to go away,” she says, tilting her head back to look at me.

I shake my head and look at her beautiful green eyes. “Don’t be stupid,” I say teasingly to her.

She shoves at my chest a little with mock annoyance. “Hey! That’s not nice!” she protests.

“I know,” I say, leaning down to kiss her. She stops struggling and leans into me. “I just like making you squeal.”

She giggles as I tickle her sides, squirming in my arms. I hold her more tightly and deepen the kiss, and she responds in kind, opening her lips and letting my tongue touch hers.

I hear rain hitting the windows behind us as I bend her back a little so that I can trail kisses down the column of her throat. She gasps and presses her hips into mine for stability. My cock jerks toward her desperately and I growl a little against her skin, my lips pressed into the hollow of her throat.

“I swear, every single time I kiss you, it’s like the first time,” I tell her, slipping my hands under her sweater to knead her breasts.

“Gentle,” she whispers to me, and my fingers go still. “They’re really sensitive all the time now.”

“Baby stuff?” I inquire, pressing more gently. I’m rewarded with a little sigh and she relaxes against me again.

“Baby stuff,” she agrees languidly, her eyes closed.

“Did you already go to the doctor?” I ask her.

She nods. “Everything is good so far. Cara went with me.”

I feel a jolt of frustration that I wasn’t included, but the logical part of me understands.

“Can I go to the next appointment?”

“I guess so,” she says.

I pull back to look down at her, trying to see if she’s serious.

She opens her eyes and winks at me, then squeezes my forearms comfortingly. “It’s not that exciting at first,” she reassures me. “They just make sure there’s something…anything…in there.”

“That’s not how people describe it,” I insist a little touchily.

She makes a soothing noise. “I have ultrasound pictures I can show you. That’s all you really go to that appointment for.”

“Rachel,” I say to her, my breath blowing over her ear. I feel her shudder against me. “The thing is…I’d really, really like to fuck you.”

She leans away from me for a moment and then steps back. I feel cold as she opens up some space between us, but then she stretches out her hands in invitation and grins at me.

“Tristan, the thing is…I’d really, really like you to do that.”

I take her hands and let her lead me toward my room, my heart thundering in my chest like it’s the first time I’ve gotten to sleep with her, and emotions coursing through me with wild abandon.