Scoring the Billionaire (Bad Boy Billionaires Book 3) Page 24

“If you only knew,” I muttered.

  “What? If I only knew what?”

  I stared at him for a long moment, taking in his clenched jaw and narrowed eyes and the way his chest moved when he inhaled a harsh breath.

  There were so many things I wanted to say to him in that moment, but I knew the conversation was pointless. He had made his choice. He didn’t want anything serious. I had merely given him the out he needed. I let him walk away without shouldering the guilt of the reality of our situation. He had strung me along just the right amount of time for me to fall, and then he pulled the rug out from under me without warning and walked away like it was the easiest thing he had ever done.

  I had loved him.

  Still love him.

  But love had no point when it wasn’t returned.

  “I gave you the out you needed, so why can’t you give me the space I need?”

  He furrowed his brow in incredulity. “The out I needed?”

  “Yes. The out you needed to walk away unscathed.”

  “Unscathed? You think this is easy for me?”

  A humorless laugh escaped my throat. “You’re here, on a date, Wes.”

  “So are you!” he shouted, and the emotion in his eyes had me so very close to telling him the truth. That I wasn’t here on a date. That Scott was my friend.

  But I didn’t want to give him that satisfaction.

  I wanted him to feel like I felt. Gutted.

  “God!” he exclaimed, roughly dragging both hands through his hair. “I didn’t want it to be like this. Can’t you see? I know I set it in motion, but I hate it, Win,” he admitted, and the pain in his voice had tears clogging my throat again.

  I will not cry. I will not let him see how much this hurts.

  I looked away from him until I could blink the tears away, and when my eyes met his again, I ignored the pain in his gaze. I ignored the fact that he didn’t look okay. I ignored it because I had to ignore it. Deep down, I knew I wasn’t alone in the way I felt about him. But I also knew I couldn’t go down that road again.

  I wouldn’t survive it.

  “I need to get back inside,” I said, and then, knowing what my daughter’s safety meant to me, took the slightest amount of pity on him. “Lexi is okay. I was just calling Melinda to see what time she was dropping her off tonight—which she isn’t. Lex fell asleep. So stop worrying. Everything is okay. You can go back inside. Go enjoy the rest of the evening with your date.”

  “But what about you? Are you okay?”

  Not even close.

  “No, but I’m getting there.” I gave him the partial truth. “Every day, it gets easier. Every day, I’m one more day closer to being okay.”

  “Winnie,” he said and reached his arm out to stop me. “Wait.”

  I shook my head and stepped away from him. “Have a good night, Wes.”

  I kept walking forward, and I didn’t look back.

  That was good-bye, I told myself.

  Like a bell of dismissal, my phone started to ring inside of my clutch. I dug it out as I walked, wiping away one stubborn tear as it trailed down my cheek before swiping the screen.

  “Winnie!” Georgia shouted into my ear the second my finger tapped the accept button.

  “Georgia?”

  “Winnie! Where are you? Seriously! Where are you?” she shrieked, and I cringed at the resulting ringing in my ear.

  “Why are you shouting?”

  “Because Cassie is in labor! She’s going to have the baby! Can you believe it?”

  I stopped dead in my tracks. “Oh, shit…really?”

  “REALLY!”

  I yanked the phone away from my ear, but it was too late. My eardrum felt like someone had used it as a kick-drum.

  “Meet us at the hospital!”

  “Seriously, stop shouting,” I called toward the receiver, still keeping the phone a safe distance away from my ear.

  “I can’t help it! I’m too excited!”

  I laughed at that. “Okay. Okay. I’ll be there.” I looked at the time on the screen and put it back within hearing distance of my ear. “Give me thirty minutes, and I’ll be there.”

  “Get here sooner!” she protested. “Cassie is having a baby!”

  “It’s her first baby, Georgia. Trust me, it’s not just going to fall out.”

  No matter how much Cassie might want it to.

  “HOLY MOTHERFUCKER FUCKING FUCK, YOU GUYS! FUCK THIS SHIT! I HATE EVERYTHING!” Cassie shouted through her last contraction.

  “Honey,” Thatch said with a grin. He stood right at her bedside, holding her hand and occasionally putting cool washcloths on her forehead and neck. “I thought we were trying not to cuss around the baby.”

  Cassie’s face morphed into something I had only witnessed in horror movies. Any second, I thought her head would probably do a complete three-sixty and return with a mouthful of green vomit in her husband’s face.

  She gripped his hand with all of her might, and it was obvious by the grimace on Thatch’s face that this pregnant chick had some serious strength with her hands. It was like she had been using Shake Weights religiously or something… Yeah, let’s not go any further with that thought process.

  Shake Weights and Thatch and Cassie? Yeah, definitely do not go there…

  The redness in Cassie’s face went down, and she took a few deep breaths as the contraction slowly disappeared. “I don’t give a fucking fucking fuck fuck about cussing right now, Thatcher. Our baby should understand that he is literally crawling out of my body. A human being is going to come out of my body. So fuck anyone in this room who gets offended by the words that will be accompanying our baby’s big debut and, sadly, destruction of my pussy.”

  “Jesus, Cass,” Georgia chimed in. She stood off to the side near the big window overlooking the city with a stopwatch in hand and her pencil and paper resting on the windowsill.

  She looked ready for the big game, but the game had been rained out.

  Georgia was secretly trying to take on the role of doula, but Thatch was kind of doula-blocking her at the moment.

  “What?” Cassie snapped, and her face turned to a grimace, indicating that another contraction was about to briefly ruin her life.

  “Could you not say p-u-s-s-y? I mean, you’re getting ready to deliver our beautiful baby boy into the world. Don’t you think maybe you should avoid the use of foul language, especially of the p-u-s-s-y variety?”

  “Do you think I care? Do you think I fucking care?” Cassie shouted through a contraction. “IF I WANT TO SCREAM THE WORD PUSSY WHILE I BRING THIS BABY INTO THE WORLD, I WILL!”

  Thatch glanced at me, and we both held back the urge to laugh.

  All the while, Cassie and Georgia were having a complete standoff, eye to eye, stubbornness fueling the whole thing.

  “Knock knock,” the nurse said as she walked into the room. “How are you feeling, sweetheart?” she asked as she moved toward Cassie and applied a blood pressure cuff to her arm.

  “Like a baby is trying to crawl out of my pussy.”

  Georgia scoffed, and Thatch nearly fell over he guffawed so hard.

  Cassie in labor was about the funniest thing I had seen in ages. And tonight of all nights, I desperately needed the pick-me-up.

  Thatch and I grinned at one another, while Georgia and Cassie continued to flip each other the bird and toss nasty glares in each other’s direction.

  “Well, I’m Misty, and I’ll be your nurse today,” the pretty young nurse introduced herself as she proceeded to get Cassie’s vitals. “Has anyone checked you yet?”

  “Checked me?”

  “To see how far dilated you are?”

  Cassie gripped the side rails of the bed as another contraction started to peak.

  “How long has she been having contractions this intense?”

  Thatch’s brow furrowed. “I’d say for about the past few hours.”

  The nurse checked the strip of paper printing from the monitor that tracked the
baby’s heart rhythm and uterine contractions. “Hmm,” she muttered to herself.

  “What was she dilated at her last doctor’s appointment?”

  “Not quite two centimeters,” Georgia answered before anyone else could.

  See what I mean? Self-appointed doula.

  “And when was that?” Misty asked with a tilt of her head.

  “Wednesday,” Thatch answered. “So, a few days ago.”

  Cassie continued to keep her eyes closed as she breathed through another contraction. Once it had released its hold on her, she set her focus on the nurse. “I need all of the fucking pain medicine you can give me. I can’t fucking do this. This is awful. Just call the pharmacy, and tell them to send everything up here. I want five epidurals.”

  Misty smiled, and a quiet laugh escaped her lungs. “Let me just check to see how far you’ve progressed, and then I’ll contact anesthesia for an epidural. Do you want anyone to leave the room?”

  “Nope,” Cassie said and immediately pulled up her gown and spread her legs as wide as they would go.

  “Jesus, Cass,” Georgia said and covered her eyes.

  I turned my head toward the window and fought the urge to burst out laughing. I couldn’t blame her, though. I mean, I might not have been as open to visitors seeing my bag of goods, but it was true that all modesty flew straight out the fucking window when you were in labor.

  “It’s called a pussy,” Cass said.

  “Hell, you’re crazy, Crazy,” Thatch added with adoration in his voice.

  From my periphery, I noted that the nurse sat on the edge of the bed beside Cass and proceeded to put a glove on. “This might be a little uncomfortable, okay? Especially since this is your first baby. A lot of times your cervix is very posterior and hard to reach.”

  “No worries. I’m sure it’s nothing compared to these fucking contrac—” Cassie started to explain, but yet again, another contraction started to peak, and all she could do was hold on to the side rails of the bed and breathe through it.

  Jesus, her contractions are really close together.

  “Oh, God!” she cried. “I think I just peed!”

  “No, sweetheart, you didn’t pee,” Misty reassured. “Your water just broke.”

  Cassie groaned. “Well, that’s fantastic. And fucking gross.”

  “Are you having the urge to push?”

  “I have the urge to poop, but that’s about it.” Blatant honesty laced with ridiculousness. That’s pretty much how the rest of this labor and delivery were going to go, I was sure of it.

  “Yeah, sweetheart, that’s actually the urge to push that you’re feeling right now.” Misty glanced at Thatch. “Can you push the nurse call button for me?” she asked in a neutral tone.

  Confusion and concern etched his normally relaxed face, but he did as she asked and tapped the nurse call button.

  Uh oh…this did not sound good for Cassie…

  “Can I help you?” a female voice said over the speaker.

  “Hey, Mary Lou, I need a delivery table set up in Room 14 stat. And can you go ahead and call Dr. Sabin and tell him we’re going to be ready for delivery soon? I’d like him close by.”

  “Huh?” Cassie asked. “Delivery soon?” She sat up on the bed, and her eyes went wide in shock. “What do you mean?” She looked at Thatch. “What does she mean?”

  “Cassie, you’re fully dilated, and your little baby is already at a very low station.”

  She scrunched up her face in confusion. “Low station? Like FM radio? I don’t need music right now. I need an epidural.”

  “No,” Misty said with a grin. “Low station as in the baby’s fetal descent station. You’re already at a +2 station, sweetheart. And I could tell with your contractions, that the baby is positioned perfectly for delivery. And you probably didn’t realize this, but you were already pushing a little bit with your contractions.”

  Cassie glanced around the room frantically. And then her eyes went back to Misty.

  “Okay…okay…so just get me an epidural, and then it’s go time.”

  She looked at Thatch again, her eyes turning scared and helpless. “Right? Epidural first and then we can have this baby?”

  “Cassie, I don’t think we have time for an epidural,” Misty explained softly.

  “You don’t think!” Cass shouted. “What do you mean, you don’t think!”

  “I know, actually,” she answered and got up from the bed and proceeded to get the room ready for delivery. Another staff member wheeled in the table and began to set up the sterile instruments.

  “No-no-no-no-no,” Cassie chanted. “Nope. I’m not doing it. Not without an ep—”

  Oh, no… Another contraction…

  “Oh, holy fuck! Holy fuck! Holy fuck! I need to push! I need to push!”

  Thatch didn’t hesitate for a second and took each of his wife’s cheeks in his hands and locked his eyes with hers, forcing Cassie’s focus to him. “You got this, honey. You’re the strongest woman I know. You can do it, baby. But you need to wait to push until the doctor gets in the room. Just breathe… There you go… Just breathe… You’re doing so good, honey. I’m so proud of you.” He coached her and encouraged her and just loved her in the softest, most tender voice and then kissed her forehead gently once the contraction had slowly past.

  I walked over to a tearful Georgia and wrapped my arm around her shoulders. “Let’s go wait in the waiting room. I think this needs to be their special moment.”

  Well, special and very painful for Cassie moment.

  Georgia nodded and wiped a rogue tear from her cheek.

  A few minutes later, we were sitting in the waiting room, watching the two smartest people in the hospital, Lexi and Kline, play a game of chess on her iPad.

  They were both in deep thought regarding their next moves, and I chanced a glance at Georgia. She sat quietly, watching her husband, with nothing but pure love in her eyes. It was obvious that a Brooks baby was going to be the next step for them. They had the suburban home, the SUV, and the dog and cat. Now, they just needed to make their family official with a little baby of their own.

  “What?” Georgia asked once her eyes met mine.

  I grinned. “I didn’t say anything.”

  “Yeah, but you’re thinking something.”

  “I’m only thinking what you’re thinking about, and I’m really happy for you.”

  She stared at me for a long moment and then smiled softly. “Thanks, Win.”

  “Wes!” Lexi shouted and hopped up from her seat. She skipped toward him and jumped straight into his arms.

  He wrapped her up tightly and held her for a whole lot longer than someone who didn’t want a kid should have. I hated that he was so blind to what he really wanted. It was so obvious in every little thing related to Wes and Lexi’s close relationship.

  He would lasso the moon for my daughter if she asked him.

  He would quite literally do anything for her.

  Maybe it’s not Lexi that he doesn’t want; maybe he just doesn’t want me…

  The mere thought of that smarted like a son of a bitch. I hated that this man had spurred insecure thoughts like that. After Nick and I had broken up, I’d promised myself I would never let a man make me feel like I wasn’t good enough.

  And yet, there I was, letting the insecurities permeate my soul.

  Wes set Lexi back on her little feet, and his eyes immediately sought out mine. I had no idea what he was thinking, not a fucking clue, but it looked like he was trying to give me a million words with one single look.

  I averted my eyes in an obvious show of refusal. I didn’t want his words.

  Fuck his words. His words meant shit to me.

  At least, that was what I was going to keep telling myself.

  If he wanted something from me, the only way he could prove it was by action. To show me that he was actually the man I had originally thought he was. Not the kind of man who ran when things got too intense, too real.
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br />   “What took you so long?” Kline asked Wes with a smirk.

  “I was at a charity event, and traffic became a nightmare. You know how New York is, everyone trying to go in the same direction, yet no one really making any progress.”

  I winced. I’d been at the same charity event and gotten here just fine. But I had a feeling he hadn’t gotten the news quite as soon as I had—and I hadn’t bothered to share.

  Kline chuckled. “That’s exactly why I love living in the suburbs now.”

  “Is it why you love driving the minivan, too?” Wes teased. His words sounded good, but his tone was completely off—halfhearted if I’d ever heard it. And I had. I’d been practicing the same goddamn thing all night.

  Kline grinned anyway, too high on the happenings to dirty himself with Wes’s details. “Well, that, and the fact that Georgia loves how spacious the backseat is.”

  “Kline!” Georgia chimed in.

  “What, baby? You said you loved it that night—”

  “Kline!” she said again and slashed a supposed-to-be-menacing finger across her throat.

  He just laughed, visibly amused by his wife’s embarrassment.

  The sound of the automatic doors that led to the labor and delivery ward caught our attention, and Thatch walked out with a giant grin on his face.

  “Is he here?” Georgia asked excitedly.

  Thatch nodded. “Ace Tobias Kelly is here.”

  I grinned at the mere thought that Cassie had been teasing Thatch for her entire pregnancy with the name game, constantly pranking him with ridiculous names, and in the end, she named her son the one name Thatch had truly wanted from the start.

  “Mom and baby doing good?” I asked.

  He smiled proudly. “Mom and baby are perfect.”

  “Congrats, man. I’m really happy for you.” Kline stood and wrapped Thatch up in a man hug, patting his back a few times.

  We all followed suit, hugging Thatch and congratulating him on the birth of his son.

  “How much did he weigh?” Georgia asked.

  Thatch smiled proudly. “Nine pounds, ten ounces. Twenty-two inches long.”

  Georgia’s eyes went wide. “Holy fucking shit.”

  “Your wife just had a toddler,” Wes added with a chuckle.

  “What can I say? Kelly men are big. Everywhere.” He added a wink to bring his point home.