The Billionaire’s Pregnant Fling (Jameson Brothers Book 2) Page 2

  Or at least, she thought she had.

  Their passionate night together wasn't proving easy for her to forget, that was for sure. Baby aside, the memory of sex with Eddie still aroused tingles of anticipation all along her spine as if he was impressed into her bones. Just thinking about what he could do with his hands made the insides of her thighs uncomfortably slick with perspiration; she crossed her legs now to try and push it from her awareness. She could devote more thought to what Eddie could do later when she was alone, and the object of her reflection wasn't sitting directly beside her.

  Eddie's gorgeous tan had taken a momentary backseat; now, he looked pale and seasick, a sensation Margot felt certain the accomplished sailor had never experienced before in his life. A stab of guilt hit her. She hadn't wanted to break the news to him this way. She hadn't wanted to break the news to him at all, but knew all along that keeping such a massive secret to herself was worse. "Are you all right? You look like you're going to pass out," she mentioned.

  "I'm not gonna pass out." The remark was one he would have made when they were kids; an immediate, defensive rebuttal. He ran a hand through his dark brown hair. "You and I need to schedule a meeting. A real meeting. That will enable me to get on top of this whole baby thing."

  "A meeting?" she repeated incredulously. She wished she didn't find the suggestion amusing—because Eddie clearly did not—but of all the possible reactions she had expected to her baby news, this had to be the last one. She hadn't anticipated his response to be so...analytical. She felt equal parts dismayed and impressed by him in that moment. Eddie had managed to turn his own ship around—but it was the Eddie who didn't navigate, who went with the ebb and flow of the tide and every mercurial change of the wind, that Margot had grown up adoring. True, his accepting mentality used to drive her crazy, but now that she was older it was something she sought to emulate. Now that she was unexpectedly pregnant, she was more determined than ever to go with the flow of things herself. In the past, she was the one who had always been the planner: the one who scheduled entire work years in one sitting, the one who inventoried, the one who never had any sort of unexpected fun. She would never admit it, but Eddie was her inspiration to make the change… and she was determined to see it through. She would enjoy life the way he did, damn it.

  Clearly all that recent time spent shadowing his older brothers at the Jameson Agency had an effect. "Forget the meeting, Eddie. Why don't we set up a focus group to see how well the baby tests?" Her tone wasn't light enough to sound completely teasing, but she wanted to put him at ease. She hated seeing him like this. "But I agree we should...talk about it. Maybe not in a boardroom with a secretary taking minutes, but obviously somewhere that isn't a bar."

  "No," Eddie agreed, "you shouldn't be inside any bars, Margot."

  Her temper flared hot in her chest. "It's not like I was planning on drinking, Eddie. I just needed to be somewhere tonight where there were other people around."

  "Right. Other people smoking and vaping and doing God knows what else." His eyes tracked around the room as if he suddenly didn't recognize his surroundings. Margot followed his gaze, but try as she might, she couldn't perceive any of the dangers Eddie seemed privy to. "Do your parents know?"

  "They know."

  "And they know I'm the father?"

  Margot cringed, then nodded slowly. It was a conversation she would rather not relive right here and now. "I'm sorry, Eddie. I wanted to tell you first, but Mom found my pregnancy test, and went and told Dad about it." Margot scowled. "Actually, she told me she went looking for evidence. Turns out she suspected I was pregnant even before I did."

  "I should have called," Eddie said adamantly. "When you didn't respond to my texts, I should have called you to make sure you were all right. We've got to make sure you're cutting back on strenuous exercise and eating healthy. Are you set up with a good obstetrician? Have you gone to your first prenatal appointment? You don't have to take me with you if you aren't comfortable; I just want to make sure we're covering all our bases."

  Margot blinked and sat back. Now Eddie really wasn't sounding like himself. Where was the affably irresponsible, go-with-the-flow Jameson she had grown up with? "You sound like 'What to Expect When You're Expecting' on steroids," she muttered.

  "Exactly why we need to have a meeting," Eddie said. "We need to share information and pool our resources. I think what's probably most important to consider is…"

  As he continued to rattle off details, Margot felt herself steadily growing nauseous. Now she was the one nodding along without any clear objection to what he was saying. Her skin felt clammy, and she was sure she must look as pale as Eddie had when she broke the news of her pregnancy. How had the tables turned so quickly? Why did she suddenly feel like the one who was unprepared?

  Wait—was he seriously talking about school districts?

  A distracting, buzzing sensation was starting to form behind her ears. Margot recognized it at once, but wanted to hold onto the moment for just a second longer. Of all the times for her to get sick, this was probably the worst she could have chosen. She had finally crossed paths with Eddie and broke the news, and he was being proactive, already coming up with solutions to problems she didn't know she had…

  But there was no hope for it. Margot's stomach clenched, and a sour taste suddenly filled her mouth. The bartender at least seemed to notice her sudden shift; he pointed her toward a far corner of the room, and she didn't risk nodding to show him she had understood. She stood up quickly, and Eddie cut himself off when the look on her face finally registered with him.

  "Margot, are you all right?" His stark brows pulled together in perplexity.

  She couldn't shake her head any more than she could nod. There was no doubt in her mind that she was about to throw up. She cupped a hand over her mouth and stumbled back toward the bathrooms, leaving Eddie to trail in her wake.

  Chapter Three

  Eddie

  Twenty-four hours after taking Margot home, Eddie found himself headed back to the exact same bar. His attendance at the Thirty Under Thirty mixer had mostly been an excuse to scope out the terrain. A month ago he had arranged a client cocktail hour at the bar, and tonight was the night of the event.

  He had almost completely forgotten about it until his brother, Sam, reminded him in the final hour.

  "Don't you have some sort of reminder system in place?" Samson Jameson was a Roman sculpture of a man, and about as warm on a good day. He followed Eddie out of the backseat of their shared limousine, and paused to confirm instructions with the driver as Eddie gazed up at the plunging, darkened faces of New York City's skyscrapers. Everything about the city was suddenly less familiar to him, more hazardous and sharply-edged. Was this how things started to look when you became a father—even an expecting one?

  "I'm not like you," he replied. "I don't have Trinity to help keep my schedule."

  "First of all, yes you do. Trinity is always hounding you about appointments," Sam corrected him. "And second of all, I'm the one who has to remind Trinity of the work engagements she deems nonessential."

  "Great. See? I already have two human fail-safes in place," Eddie concluded.

  Sam sighed through his nose and adjusted his tie, which had already been resting perfectly on his chest. "This was a good idea, at any rate: allowing our clients to network and mingle, all while trying out new brands of alcohol and different catering companies. Thanks for setting it up."

  "You're welcome." His relationship with Sam had always been formal, almost frigid before, and the thaw that they were now experiencing was still new to him. It made him feel pleased, and awkward, and unworthy, to be on the receiving end of Sam's gratitude. Sam was the middle brother, and the one who had most taken after their father—not only in his work ethic, but in his interpersonal relations. The fact that he had found any reason to thank Eddie at all showed just how far they had come in mending fences.

  Eddie's throat clenched at the thought. This was an
other piece of what he stood to lose if he fucked things up with Margot. He had already betrayed his brothers' trust by sleeping with a client's daughter in the past; what would their reaction be now that he had done it again?

  God, but Margot was different. Margot wasn't just the forbidden fruit Eddie had always longed to taste—she was the whole package. Beautiful, intelligent, successful, and, he had previously assumed, immune to his charms. He was the last person who had expected himself to end up between the sheets with her, and it wasn't helping his case that he craved having her again. This baby business should have been occupying the forefront of his brain, but he couldn't shut his primal desire for Margot down, either, no matter how hard he tried. She was all he could think about.

  "You should try looking less hungover," Sam advised as they walked through the bar doors together.

  After dropping Margot off last night, Eddie may have had a few too many. He didn't acknowledge Sam's reproving remark, but he did turn the wattage up on his smile, and reach up to smooth one eyebrow (and put pressure on a throbbing spot in his temple).

  "Eddie!" A client turned away from one of the caterers to greet him. "There he is, the man of the hour! Come and meet my daughter!"

  Oh, Jesus, Eddie thought, but kept his Stepford smile fixed in place. He charmed every acquaintance new and old as best he could, and shook hands firmly despite the fact that all this cordial jostling was only making his head pound harder. He noticed Sam raise an eyebrow at him before moving off to make his own rounds.

  Not good. Eddie knew Sam, and he knew when his brother suspected something was amiss—which was almost never, considering Sam often struggled to identify and respond to human emotional responses in the first place. His brother was more machine than man sometimes, which meant that his focus on one particular matter that confused him could be all-encompassing, and he wouldn't let go until he had found a satisfactory explanation. If he thought something was off about Eddie, then he would investigate—and probably enlist Trinity along the way.

  Eddie was eventually able to excuse himself to the bar for a drink, but the moment a cocktail waitress planted one down in front of him, he knew he wouldn't consume it. His stomach still churned with acid at the memory of last night's bender. He pushed the drink to the girl sitting beside him, ignored her expectant look, and signaled for a soda instead. The girl walked off with his drink as he took a long, appreciative sip of bar ginger ale. His stomach cooled, and he began turning over plans for how to duck out early.

  His designs were interrupted as soon as he felt a pair of heavy eyes on him. Eddie turned on his stool.

  Jonathan Daley—Margot's father—was staring at him from across the bar.

  Of fucking course Jonathan would be in attendance. Hadn't Eddie sent him the invitation? Still, he’d been so preoccupied with Margot that the possibility of running into her father had completely escaped him until that moment.

  For as long as Eddie had known him, Jonathan Daley had been a devoted family man—if a somewhat absent one. He was the owner of Daley Flights, a major airline company, so it made sense that he led a jet setting lifestyle that often left his wife and only daughter behind at home. He looked as if he could be a pilot himself: he was tall, good-looking and physically fit for his age, with a full head of short-cropped, distinguished white hair that made him stand out in any room. The hair was the first thing that Eddie recognized.

  Jonathan inclined his head, and Eddie returned the subtle gesture with a nod of his own. Margot's father concluded the conversation he was having with a smile and crossed the room to meet him.

  "Well, Eddie." Jonathan raised his beer in salutation and sat down without further invitation. Eddie shifted sideways needlessly to let him know he was welcome. "What do you intend to do about this situation?"

  No segue. No real greeting or beating around the bush. No hour-long conversation spent digging for clues as to whether or not Mr. Daley wanted to bring it up. Eddie bit down on his tongue to keep it from wagging: what situation?

  "Mr. Daley," he greeted. "I know you like a man who's always thinking ten steps ahead. And I just want you to know that I'm already planning for the future. Our future. I've already started doing research so Margot won't feel like she's alone in the planning process. In fact, I'm hoping to take most of it off her plate so she can focus on staying happy and healthy."

  Eddie was privately pleased with the way he laid out his plans. He sounded self-assured; in-control; mature. He sounded completely unlike himself.

  Though a part of him hated to think it, he sounded like his father.

  If that really was the case, then maybe he risked presenting himself as too emotionally removed. Eddie leaned in a little, orbiting Jonathan's personal space without invading it. He pitched his voice lower. "Mr. Daley, I want you to know that I...I've always cared for Margot. More than I ever let on."

  Jonathan leaned back a little—not to get away, Eddie thought, but to get a better look at him. He felt encouraged enough to continue. "I intend to ask her out officially the next time I see her. It's up to her, of course, whether or not she wants to date me, but I want to be involved in her life. And in the baby's life. Officially."

  Jonathan barked a laugh, and some of the tension eased out of Eddie. He grinned as well, even if he didn't know what exactly they were laughing about. Maybe Mr. Daley was surprised by the fact that he had just stated his intentions, or maybe he was laughing with relief at Eddie's offer. Had they really expected him to not want to be involved in Margot's life?

  "Oh, I think you can do better than that," Jonathan said. He clapped a hand on Eddie's shoulder and took a sip of his beer.

  Eddie blinked in confusion. "I can?"

  Was it just him, or did the pressure of Jonathan Daley's fingers increase at his question?

  "I certainly hope so," Jonathan said. "Because rest assured, that's not how I was envisioning things were going to happen between the two of you. I don't want you to date my daughter, Eddie. I think the time for courtship has long since passed."

  "I…" Eddie didn't know what to say. So Jonathan didn't want him to try and start over with Margot? "I thought you would approve," he said.

  "What I would approve of, Eddie, is you marrying my daughter." Jonathan's eyes lasered in on Eddie as Eddie choked. "And so would my wife."

  "Marry Margot…?" The idea was terrifying. Not because Margot wasn't the type of woman he would want to marry. Actually, whenever Eddie had pictured himself settling down with a woman, he had always talked himself out of it by weighing that woman's traits against Margot's. Marrying Margot made sense, and he was surprised he hadn't thought about it more before now—but he was also privately alarmed that it had taken her father's interference to get him thinking along those lines. He felt like the situation was already spinning out of his control

  "Leslie and I are what you call 'traditional'," Jonathan offered. He clapped Eddie on the shoulder again before pulling his hand back; he had kept a firm hold on him this entire time. "But not so traditional as to need the usual amount of time to plan things out. A few months should do the trick. After you propose, of course."

  "Propose?" Eddie echoed hollowly.

  "Why, sure!" Jonathan Daley's amiable laugh came again. "You know how to ask for a girl's hand, don't you? Maybe you can skip the sweeping gestures for the sake of expediency, hm? But an engagement ring wouldn't come amiss."

  Eddie's throat silently worked as he processed all that Margot's father was saying. He knew negotiation; this was no negotiation. Jonathan fully expected him to follow the plan as outlined. "What if she says no?" he asked.

  "Well then." Jonathan shrugged. "Margot has every right to refuse, of course. But then, I suppose you have every incentive to make sure she answers otherwise, don't you?" Jonathan's gaze was unflinching despite his casual tone, and Eddie felt caught in a steel trap. "I don't need to tell you that I have a multi-million dollar contract with your agency. I've stuck with you all this time to honor my commitment
to your father...but the contract's coming up soon. I have no problem taking my business elsewhere, Eddie."

  Eddie's throat was too dry to respond. He tried to summon up the lubrication to swallow; when none came, he settled for taking a long sip of his drink.

  "Cheer up," Jonathan advised him. "Margot will say yes. After all, it would appear you certainly know how to be persuasive when it comes to matters involving my daughter, don't you, Eddie?"

  "Yes, sir." He immediately wished he could take back his automatic assent. All he could do was wince at the way it hung in the air between them.

  "So you'll be able to persuade her to marry right away," Jonathan continued. "And before anyone else finds out she's pregnant. You'll do everything in your power to provide for her every need. You'll make things right by her, Eddie. I know you will."

  And you'll make things right by me, was Jonathan Daley's unspoken promise. Or else.

  Chapter Four

  Eddie

  Eddie sat, too stunned to move, agree, or protest the two possible futures Margot's father had just outlined for him.

  He couldn't deny that it added up. Proposing marriage to Margot had never even crossed his mind, but now that Jonathan had laid it out for him...why hadn't he thought of it before? An official union would save Margot and her family from any potential embarrassment, and ensure that Eddie's own family—not to mention clients—understood that he really had turned over a new, more responsible leaf. Besides that, it would be the right thing to do. It would be a bigger gesture than the one he had planned originally, and a more total display of his commitment. Everyone would approve.