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Billionaire Neighbor by Lulu Pratt (71)

Chapter 37

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When I first started doing this with Carrie, I envisioned her as the woman who was going to have my baby and nothing more. I thought that maybe I would develop some sort of feelings for her. Sexual feelings, if nothing else. But I never dreamed I would feel for her the way I do now.

“Should I throw this out or keep it?” Carrie asks.

I look up at her and see that she is holding a hideous canary yellow dress in her hand.

“Burn it. Then throw the ashes out, and then destroy the garbage can you threw it into.”

She laughs and tosses the dress into a large trashcan sitting in the middle of her apartment.

I’m at her place right now, helping her to pack her things. Once I suggested that she come live with me, I decided that would not be enough. If she is going to be living with me, she is going to need to make the house feel as much like home as possible. I have, therefore, also suggested that she move some of her things in as well.

“And this?” She asks, holding up a dress of a similar ilk.

“New rule,” I say. “If you have to ask, the answer is going to be a no.”

I didn’t want a wife. That was never the plan. I want a child. But lately Carrie has begun to transform before my eyes. Or perhaps she has been transforming me. Although I don’t see myself as marrying her anytime soon, I do see myself as being with her.

Once we have this baby, I would be surprised if I want her to leave. I can’t tell her this, though. For all I know, she has no desire to live with me once it is done. For all I know, it is still about the money for her.

“Do your chefs mind, by the way?” She asks suddenly.

My head is buried in a cabinet, and I pull it out, turning to look at her.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, that they are cooking for three now?” She rubs her belly.

I laugh. “I think they are okay with it. The third member doesn’t eat too much yet, anyway.”

“For now,” Carrie agrees. “But I already feel myself getting hungrier every day. I predict I’ll be twice this size soon.”

“And you’ll look just as beautiful as you do now,” I say and give her a warm smile as I do.

I feel myself falling for her more every day. And although I am not fully sure how she feels about me, I am almost certain that she is feeling close to what I am. I want to ask her. But as I open my mouth, each time, I balk and change the topic. I am content now to live in ignorant bliss. She is moving in with me, and right now, that is all that matters.

“So, how are you going to go about telling your friends?” She asks.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, it’s an odd conversation to have. Do you think they will care? They’ll think it’s odd, at the very least.”

“Honestly,” I say. I look into her eyes and make sure she is looking into mine. “I don’t care. Nothing they say or do will convince me this wasn’t the best decision I ever made.”

“We ever made,” she corrects.

“What about your friends?” I ask. “Same thing?”

“Yeah, same thing. I mean, Amy doesn’t care. She’s weird enough. And my few other friends, I could not care less about their opinions. Like you said, nothing they say will make a difference.”

And that is the truth, too. When I first started doing this, I was terrified of what friends would say. I was too scared to even leave Ben and Carrie alone for God’s sake. But now, it doesn’t bother me. When I see Ben, I will tell him outright what I am doing and why. If he doesn’t like it, so what? I like it. Carrie likes it. That is all that matters.

“And you’re sure you don’t mind?” She asks.

I look up from what I am doing. Carrie has stopped packing and is standing in the middle of the living room, looking at me. She looks worried. Her shoulders are slumped, and she is frowning at me.

“Worried about what?” I ask, confused by her sudden change in disposition.

“That I am moving in with you? I mean, I know it’s a big deal.”

“Hey,” I say. I’m in her kitchen, holding a handful of cutlery which I quickly put down. I walk straight to her, keeping my eyes fixed firmly on her. I reach her, and as I do, I take both her hands in mine. “You know how I feel about you moving in.”

“Do I?” She asks, still frowning.

“Yes. I could not be happier. Truly. You see this as imposing yourself on me. I see it as a way to keep you and our baby in my life and as close to me as possible. If you weren’t moving into my house, I would move into here. I have never been happier, okay?”

“Okay,” she says, that warm smile returning to her face. “Just checking.”

“I know you were.” I lean down and kiss her on the nose.

We finish packing. It takes another hour or so. She isn’t breaking the lease or anything like that. She just isn’t living in the apartment for a while. So, everything that she is bringing fits easily into a few boxes.

I scoop the boxes into my arms and lead the way through the front door and down to my car. I turn and watch as she closes the door behind her, locking it up. She won’t be coming back for a while.

I watch her make her way to me, now smiling permanently. I, again, have to pinch myself. I am having a child. I am having a baby with a beautiful woman who I can feel myself falling in love with. She is moving in with me, and I can’t, for the life of me, see how anything can go wrong. From here on out, it is all going to be smooth sailing.