Playing With Her (Billionaire Playboys #3) Read Online Tory Baker

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Erotic Tags Authors: Series: Billionaire Playboys Series by Tory Baker
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Total pages in book: 40
Estimated words: 36964 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 185(@200wpm)___ 148(@250wpm)___ 123(@300wpm)
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“A girl. We have a beautiful baby girl.” Outside the doors, sitting in the waiting room, are Amelie’s mom, her best friend, Eden, and her husband, Kavanaugh, my brothers, and their significant others, waiting to hear how mom and baby are doing. Parker, Ezra, Theo, and Sly are more or less waiting to know how I’m going to handle having a little girl who I know will look exactly like her mother. I’m going to be fucked, fucked, fucked.

I watch as they place her on Amelie’s chest. She pulls the gown down so they’re skin to skin. “Boston, look at our baby. We have a girl.”

“She’s beautiful, just like her mom. Aren’t you, Zoey girl?” I run my finger down the slope of her cheek, in a constant state of awe when I’m around Amelie. Add our daughter to the mix, and it’s a whole different scenario.

We’re so lost in our own little world that when the nurse asks for us to take Zoey to check her vitals and measurements, I’m annoyed. In the book that Amelie hates, they prepare you for this; it doesn’t mean I like it.

“We won’t be long. A few minutes tops, then we’ll come back, and you can try to get her to latch if you’re breastfeeding. If not, we’ll get the bottles ready for you.” I nod. Amelie looks forlorn. I’m ready to tell them they can wait a few minutes longer when Amelie shakes her head.

“Go with her. Do not take your eyes off our daughter, Boston, or I will get out of this bed and kick you in the balls.” I love when she gets feisty like this. Amelie doesn’t ask for a lot, not material things, not going out to expensive dinners. My money is worthless to her. When she does ask something of me, it’s important. Even if I think she’s watched one too many documentaries, she’s worried they’ll somehow take your child when you’re not looking, switch it with another baby, and, well, you never know.

“I’m going. I won’t leave her side.” I kiss her one last time. Even if it kills me to leave Amelie, our daughter needs us more, and Amelie’s request isn’t unfathomable, especially after the shit we went through months ago.

The nurses are already working on our baby girl as I make my way toward them. They move so I can stand and watch as they clean her up, take her measurements, and swaddle her tightly, the pink bonnet secured. “Here’s baby girl Wescott, twenty-one inches long and nine pounds two ounces.” Jesus, it’s no wonder Amelie struggled with pushing.

“Thank you.” They place our bundle of joy in my arms, making sure she’s in the crook of my arm and I’m comfortable with her before I hurry back to the mother of my child and light of my life.

Epilogue

AMELIE

One Year Later

“I’m not signing these damn papers, beautiful.” That would be my future husband on the other side of the door right before our ceremony is due to start. Our daughter is currently with my mom, sleeping, blissfully unaware she’ll be walking down the aisle, so to speak, in a wagon. I’m sure taking over the entire wedding with the cuteness overload exploding. I don’t mind it, not with our Zoey girl. What Boston is bemoaning is the fact that I sought out Sylvester without his knowledge to protect his assets.

“Sign them, or we’re not getting married.” I take a sip of my champagne and spin on my heel, making sure not to spill any on my wedding dress. I’m pretty sure Nessa and Millie would yell at me should that happen. Besides, it was me who tried on, no lie, nearly twenty-five dresses during three appointments. How I managed to keep them as friends after is still up for debate.

“Are you really not going to tell him?” Nessa asks. I shrug my shoulders. This makes the making up all the better. You see, when you’ve been with Boston as long as I have, you learn what works and what doesn’t. His number one pet peeve is waiting. Patience is not his strong suit; he’s used to getting his way, throwing around big terms or throwing money at business matters to close the deal.

“Of course she’s not, this is Amelie we’re talking about,” Eden says, my girl gang is surrounding me and I love them for it.

“Should I?” I ask Millie. Nessa gives in too easily, especially when it comes to Parker. Millicent is more like I am with Boston when it comes to Ezra; the girl can make the man grovel.

“Eh, you’ve made the man wait over a year to get married. I think you hold the torch on stretching his patience thin. If you’re not careful, he’ll pick the lock, toss you over his shoulder, and your grand entrance will be ruined.” Damn it, she’s right. Boston was ready to have our wedding while I was pregnant. There was no freaking way I was going dress shopping or waddling my ass down an aisle while pregnant with Zoey. And after she was born, LeBlanc Inn part deux was ready to open, Four Brothers opened a month before, and we both hit the ground running. Boston more than me, which did not make it easy to stay on solid footing. A newborn, two business entities, it was a harrowing time. Finally, we sat down, set a date that would work around a not so busy season for the Inn, and, well, Four Brothers is doing better than I think Boston even expected.


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