“Let’s focus on one at a time, please.” I laugh shakily. “Unless you plan to push them out yourself.”
And to think, this all started because I accidentally shared my dirty, rage-fueled diary with the man I once fantasized about strangling with his designer tie. Funny how life works out sometimes.
One minute, you’re cursing your boss’s very existence, the next, you’re having his baby and planning a future together while trying not to jump his bones in the hallway.
I guess the moral of the story is, be careful what you bitch about in your diary. You never know when your deepest, darkest fantasies might come to life, and your devastatingly handsome, infuriatingly arrogant boss might just turn out to be the love of your life, your soulmate, your baby daddy extraordinaire. And the star of your wildest, most toe-curling sexual fantasies.
Liam
Three months later
“Almost there,” I murmur, guiding Gemma down the cobblestone steps with a gentle hand on the small of her back. Winnie squirms in my other arm and I set her down, watching as she darts off toward the fountain. The furball’s clearly not impressed with my grand surprise. Fuck, now I’m starting to sound like Gemma, trying to read a cat’s mind.
I won’t lie—I’m nervous as hell. I’ve spent weeks obsessing over every detail of this moment, wanting it to be perfect. Something she’s always dreamed of and then some. Because that’s what Gemma and my baby deserve. Everything. And I’ll be damned if I don’t deliver.
I love this stubborn, beautiful woman more than I thought humanly possible. And now she’s carrying my child.My child. The thought sends a surge of pride through me.
I’m so damn happy, but I’m also terrified. The mere thought of losing either of them makes me want to lock them away in an ivory tower, where nothing and no one can ever hurt them.
Alastair was a fool to put work before Vicky, before love. I’ll be fucked if I make the same mistake with Gemma and our child. They’re my world now—my two greatest loves.
I glance over at Winnie, who’s now engaged in mortal combat with a dandelion and making a lot of noise while she’s at it.
“Is Winnie behaving herself?” Gemma murmurs, as if the cat’s ever behaved a day in her life.
It annoys Gemma to no end that Winnie prefers me—although I do give her too many treats and toys. What can I say? I like to keep my girls happy, even the four-legged ones, and I’m a sucker for those big golden eyes.
“She is. She’s free to do what she wants here,” I say, smirking. Maybe it’s a sign of things to come. I’ll be the pushover dad and Gemma can be the disciplinarian.
I take a breath and slip the silk blindfold off Gemma’s eyes, feeling uncharacteristically unnerved as she blinks, adjusting to the light.
She gasps, her eyes going wide as she takes in the sprawling garden of the white Georgian house I’ve brought her to. The one I’ve been hunting down for months, determined to find the perfect place for us to start our life together.
“Liam,” she breathes, her voice soft, laced with awe. “What is this?”
I clear my throat. “This, sweetheart, is our new home. If you want it, that is.”
I pause, my gaze searching her face, desperate to gauge her reaction. “I thought with the baby coming and everything, it might be nice to have a bit more space. Somewhere with a garden for the little one to run around in. And I know how much you love being near the river, so I figured Richmond would be perfect. It’s close to Putney to be close to Lizzie, but it’s got that extra bit of peace and quiet.”
She’s silent for a moment, turning in a slow circle as she takes it all in. The lush green lawns, the colorful flower beds, the cozynooks and crannies that make the garden feel like a secret oasis in the middle of the city.
She gazes down the hill, where the land gently slopes toward the Thames, its waters sparkling like it’s putting on a show just for us. From this vantage point, the view is breathtaking—no more standing on her bed to catch a glimpse of the river. Here, from the comfort of the garden, she can see the boats gliding smoothly across the water, rowers cutting through the current.
“Gemma?” I say, trying to keep the uncertainty from creeping into my voice. “If it’s not what you envisioned, we can look at other places. Why don’t I show you around inside, and we’ll see if it feels right?”
I figured starting with the garden was a smart move. It’s the heart of this place, the reason I fell for it the moment I saw it. I could picture Gemma out here, lost in a book on a sunny afternoon, or chasing our little one around the fountain.
But what if I’ve got it all wrong? What if this isn’t what she wants at all?
Suddenly, she spins around, throwing her arms around my neck with a force that almost knocks me off-balance. Christ, pregnancy’s made her strong.
“Our new home?” she repeats, her voice muffled against my chest. “Liam, I love it. I absolutely love it.”
“Okay, darling.” I chuckle, relieved. “Let me show you the inside first, before you commit to anything.”
I turn her gently so we’re both facing the house and put my hands on her growing belly. Growing with my child. Fuck, it’s a turn-on just thinking about that. I want to knock her up again and again.
The house is a stunner—creamy white brick, with large sash windows framed by climbing greenery. The kind of place thatlooks like it’s stepped right out of a regency drama. There’s ivy climbing up the walls, which I thought might be a pain in the ass to maintain, but it gives the place character.
