Imperfect Match (Elixir Bachelor Billionaires #1)

“It’s the first time we’ve spoken about the baby,” I whisper.

“That’s not true. We talk about our blip every day, don’t we?” The smile that pulls on his lips goes straight to my heart. And then his eyes descend from my face to my belly, covered behind a billowy dress that shows only a little bit, but I guess it’s enough to bring all his emotions home.

“I wasn’t sure you were aware that I knew about Dave’s phone,” I whisper.

Yes, we’ve talked in the last few weeks, but there’s a difference in watching different emotions take over his entire face one second after another than just imagining how he’s reacting to my voice.

“Your breath hitched when you opened the bag the first evening. I knew you’d seen the unicorn napkins. I’m aware of Mrs. K’s food presentation skills, butterfly. I’m not that dense. And I also saw how she made sure all the food that went to you looked simple and plain, leaving no doubt in your mind that she wasn’t the one who’d prepared it. I knew you’d connect the dots, and then your voice changed to that tone it only ever takes with me. I fucking loved every second of it, knowing your every word was for me.” His hand covers mine, effectively making contact with our blip through the fabric of my dress.

Charles gulps before bringing those beautiful blue eyes from my belly to my face. “May I?”

I slowly nod, and after a few heart-attack-inducing seconds, his palm flattens and he once again continues in a soft voice.

“But now I worry our blip will start to associate Dave’s voice as his dad’s. And if that happens, Dave will have to leave, not just the town but the damn country.”

Oh my God!

Did he really just say our blip and his dad?

“I’d hate to let go of a such a good bodyguard, Daisy.”

I can’t help that my lips curl upward. “Our blip is very lucky to have so many people who care about him. But most of all, to have you as his dad, Charles.” I twine my fingers with his, still splayed over my belly. “But you don’t have to change yourself for this. You can be in Blip’s life as much as you want, even without us getting back together. Me and Blip are not a package deal.”

“That’s what you don’t understand. You are important not because of Blip but because you are you, my dear wife.”

Hearing those three words tightens my throat. “Those are the words of a man who wants to do everything right, Charles. But soon you’ll itch to have that quiet normalcy in your life.”

My words halt when the car comes to a stop, and I look out the window, scanning the all-too-familiar parking space. “Why are we at the office?”

“Because I had a feeling our conversation would go this way. Come with me. I have to show you something.” He steps out as Dave opens his door, while I remain seated.

“Charles, I’m not signing any new papers.”

Damn, if he came up with a new proposition or contract to keep us tied to him…

“Good, because I’m not asking you to.” Charles throws me a grin and steps into the elevator, waiting for me.

And a few beats later, I’m standing next to him as the elevator doors close. How can I not?

I, too, want all that Charles is offering, but I also don’t want him to do so out of fear.

And that’s how, with a hope-filled heart, I ride the elevator with him.

The temp assistant rises from his seat, a flash of surprise in his gaze. I’m sure it’s because of Charles’ uncharacteristic attire. I give him a small wave while my husband’s hands are safely tucked inside his pockets until we enter his office.

His first task is to unlock the top drawer of his desk, the only part in this office, and possibly in his life, that has been off-limits to me. My feet won’t take me inside as I watch Charles safely retrieving the flash drive from his pocket and placing it in there. To my surprise, he doesn’t shut the drawer, but with a forced tug, pulls it out completely.

“Can you come here?” There’s an unusual trepidation in his face, which makes me nervous but also curious.

I take a few steps, looking down, not knowing that I’ll never be able to unsee this ever again.

“W-what is all this, Charles?” My heart skips a beat before racing wildly.

Why? Because my boss, my husband, has a drawer full of things that I purchased to annoy the crap out of him? But that’s not it. The wooden drawer is filled up to the top with colorful Post-its with my handwriting.

I grab one of the notes and realize it’s about a project we did almost three years ago.

“These are the to-do notes I stick on the wall.” If my shock could convert into a physical being, it would consume the whole room.