The Match - A Baby Daddy Donor Romance - Page 77

I’d have brought them on the first flight back if I could, but Rossi wouldn’t have it. She wanted time to get her affairs in order. Break the big news to her family. Meet with a real estate agent. Figure out what to pack, what to store. Not to mention, she still needed to sign the final settlement with the fertility clinic. In my opinion, their screw-up was worth more than the two million they offered, but their legal team was holding firm and pushing back on it would’ve only eaten into our legal fees.

In the end, we both decided to place that money in an investment account for Lucia, bury the past, and focus on the future.

Besides, I’ve got more than enough money for the three of us.

“Appreciate it,” I say. “You’re good to take off for the night.”

“Text me if you need anything,” her voice trails as she heads for the back door.

“You know I will,” I call out.

For a moment, I debate stopping her. Rossi has only met Taylor via FaceTime once and it wouldn’t hurt to properly introduce them since Taylor’s still here. But I’ve been working her to the bone the last couple of weeks. She deserves a night off.

So I let her go.

Once Rossi gets settled, the two of them will have ample time to get acquainted.

I stare at the golden bottle of Cristal chilling in a silver-plated bucket of ice and the two pristine flutes Taylor set up on the kitchen island before she left. I hadn’t even asked her to do that—she took the initiative herself.

As soon as the dust settles, I’ll give her a raise.

It can’t be easy working for me, and already she’s proving to be worth her weight in gilded tennis trophies.

Heading to the front of my estate, I watch for the driveway gate to swing open and the chauffeur-driven Escalade to pull up with my precious cargo. I’d planned to meet them there, at the tarmac, but traffic this time of day is notoriously unpredictable, and I wasn’t sure when I’d be finished interviewing Coach’s replacement.

Turns out, he knew about Tatum’s pregnancy—and he was well-aware of the fact that the timeline didn’t add up. The two of them had conspired to try to pull one over on me, each with their own agendas. Tatum, of course, was hoping it’d make me “see the light” and reconcile with her. Coach was hoping it’d get me out of Illinois, which he felt was a distraction.

While I owe much of my success to Coach and it pained me to let him go, the betrayal and manipulation was a non-negotiable for me. I’ve worked too hard, come too far, and respect myself too damn much to tolerate that sort of behavior.

As much as I wanted to confront Tatum, per Phoebe’s advice, berating a pregnant woman wouldn’t be the wisest move. And I agree. So instead, she issued a public statement from me to the press, denying paternity and providing the proof that it couldn’t be me.

Tatum has since deactivated all of her social media accounts.

It’s only a matter of time before she springs back—a narcissist can only go so long without the affections of her loyal followers, but she’s the least of my concerns.

The driveway gate swings open and my lips spread into the widest grin as I wait for my favorite girls. The Escalade parks by the fountain, and I trot up to the backdoor, which swings open before I have a chance to get it for her. A second later, Rossi is flinging herself into my arms, and I’m swinging her around, like a scene from a damn romance movie.

I’ve never been this guy—until now.

Once we settle down, I place her feet on the ground and claim her rosy mouth with a slow, soft kiss. The taste of spearmint on her tongue and berry lip balm on her lips sends my heart into overdrive.

“I missed you so damn much.” I breathe in her sweet vanilla scent. The way we’re acting, you’d think we hadn’t seen each other in years. Funny how a single week can feel like an eternity when it’s keeping you from the one thing you want more than anything else.

Doesn’t help that I’m not accustomed to waiting for things …

“I missed you too,” she says. The intensity of her blue irises are magnified in the California late afternoon sun. From the car, Lucia giggles. “I think someone has been missing her daddy …”

Without hesitation, I unbuckle my daughter from her car seat, scooping her into my arms.

“Welcome to your new home, baby girl,” I say.

In the coming weeks, we’ll work on getting the rest of Rossi’s family out here, but for now, it’s just the three of us. And between training for my next tournament, I’m planning to devote every waking minute to these two.

Tags: Winter Renshaw Billionaire Romance
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