Reese Ryan - The Billionaire's Legacy

He nodded dumbly, his hands shaking and his head feeling light. None of this seemed real.

“Perhaps you should have a seat.” Worry lines spanned the doctor’s forehead as she indicated a sofa along the wall. She sat beside him. “Just take a deep breath. I realize this must seem very overwhelming, but everything is going to be fine.”

“Sorry, this is all kind of a surprise.”

“I know.” The woman nodded gravely. “Sloane explained the situation to me. I can only imagine what a shock it must’ve been. But the good news is, you have the opportunity to be there for the birth of your children. And you and Sloane still have lots of time before the twins are born to hash things out.” She looked pointedly at both of them in a firm but kind manner. “The twins are counting on you two to do that.”

“Will she be released today?” Benji wasn’t ready to talk about making nice. Not until he got some straight answers.

“I want to observe her for another hour. But as long as everything looks good, yes, she can go home. This isn’t preterm labor, but I still want her to take it easy.” The woman shifted her gaze to Sloane, and her tone and expression turned more serious. “Make sure she understands my instructions that she refrain from working. That includes not hauling groceries around. If she can’t comply with my limited restrictions, I’ll have to put her on full bed rest.”

“I understand,” Sloane said, her expression contrite. “I would never knowingly put the babies in jeopardy.”

“I know you wouldn’t, Sloane. But you’re carrying multiples. That makes everything a little trickier. So let’s err on the side of caution.” Dr. Carroll moved beside Sloane and squeezed her arm briefly before making a few notes on the tablet in her hand and checking the monitor.

“Any other specific things she shouldn’t be doing?” Benji was on his feet beside the doctor.

“Nothing strenuous. No lifting or high-impact exercise. Walking, swimming and gentle yoga should be okay.” She turned to Sloane. “But you should monitor how you’re feeling. Make sure there’s no pain or unusual discomfort.” She turned back to Benji with a sly smile. “And there are no restrictions on sex, within reason. If that’s what you’re asking.”

Benji’s cheeks heated and he sputtered, “No, that isn’t what I was asking.”

“Relax, Benj.” Sloane and the doctor were laughing. “I have no intention of jumping you when we get back to my place.”

Benji glared at her, not acknowledging her jab. He returned his attention to the doctor. “I was referring to the bump she took to the head. She passed out momentarily. Does she have a concussion? Will it impact the twins?”

“Relax, Mr. Bennett.” Dr. Carroll’s voice was patient and soothing. Like she was trying to convince a man in a straitjacket that he hadn’t been abducted by aliens. “She has a little knot there, but no concussion. We applied an ice pack to reduce the swelling. Something she should continue to do off and on this evening. But if she suddenly seems woozy or disoriented, by all means, bring her back.”

“Will the Braxton Hicks contractions always be this strong?” Sloane asked. Her voice was strained, the levity gone.

Benji quickly made his way over to Sloane and let her grip his hand. It seemed to ease her discomfort.

When he looked up at the doctor she was smiling, seemingly pleased by his instinctive need to comfort Sloane.

“If you stay hydrated, knock off strenuous activities and reduce your stress levels, hopefully they won’t be as intense. In fact, you might not feel them at all.” Dr. Carroll turned to Benji. “If they do become intense, give her fluids and get her to walk around a little. That should relieve them.”

The woman handed him a pamphlet from her pocket. “I went over this with Sloane earlier. It outlines the difference between Braxton Hicks contractions and preterm labor—which can be dangerous for the babies at this stage. Study it. Memorize it. We want these babies to gestate until at least thirty-seven weeks, if possible.”

“Benji doesn’t live here. He’ll be going back to Seattle,” Sloane interjected.

“No, I won’t. I’m not leaving your side until the twins are born. Not up for discussion,” he added, glaring at her again when she opened her mouth to object.

She snapped her mouth shut and rubbed her belly.

“Good.” Dr. Carroll nodded approvingly. “Because she’s been trying to do this on her own for too long, and I’ve been worried about her.”

Benji couldn’t help the twinge of guilt in his gut at the doctor’s remarks, despite the fact that he couldn’t possibly have known that Sloane was struggling through this pregnancy on her own. The guilt quickly turned to resentment.

He should’ve been there, and he would’ve been, if only Sloane had given him the courtesy of a single phone call or even a text message.

“All right, I don’t expect to see you again until your next scheduled visit at the office.” Dr. Carroll raised one brow at Sloane before turning to Benji. “Walk me out, Mr. Bennett?”

He followed the woman into the hall.

“I know you must be angry and that you have many questions for Sloane.” She pinned him with her piercing blue eyes. “I don’t begrudge you for that. But she doesn’t need any unnecessary stress. So keep that in mind as you search for answers and you two decide what comes next. Capisce?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Good.” Her expression softened. She patted his arm. “Give her a chance to explain. And listen to all the things she’s afraid to say. She’s one tough lady, but deep down she’s terrified of going through this alone. So don’t let her fool you into believing that she doesn’t want or need your help.” Dr. Carroll reached out to shake Benji’s hand. “You two take care of each other and the two little people growing inside her.”

Benji sighed and nodded. “We’ll figure it out.”

When he returned to Sloane’s room, she immediately tensed, her eyes not meeting his.

Benji sucked in a deep breath and pulled a chair up beside Sloane. He sat back in the chair. “Okay, let’s talk.”

Two

Sloane’s heart felt as if it were beating out of her chest. And despite all the water she’d been made to drink in the short time since she’d been admitted, it felt like she was swallowing sand.

Her hands shook, and it took everything she had to maintain his gaze.

He was angry and hurt. Disappointed. In her.

So different from what she’d felt when she’d stared into those brooding brown eyes six months ago.

Her reasons for not telling Benji about the pregnancy seemed honorable and self-sacrificing when she’d made the decision to keep it from him. But now, faced with his resentment, they felt like cowardly excuses to avoid this very moment. When she’d have to face him again.

“I didn’t do this to hurt you, Benji. I honestly thought I was doing you a favor by keeping you out of the mess that I’ve made.”

“It’s not like you did this alone. I distinctly remember being there, too.” He folded his arms.

A wave of heat came over her and her nipples prickled with the memory of what had happened between them that weekend. How he’d made her feel.

“So why in the—” He drew in a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment. She could swear he was counting to ten under his breath. Finally he opened them again and released a long sigh. “So why on earth would you think you needed to handle this on your own?”

“Because I’m not twentysomething anymore. I’m old enough to know better. I should never have gone to your cabin that night. Never let you kiss me.” Sloane shook her head, tears sliding down her cheeks. Damn hormones. She wiped away the tears with the back of one trembling fist.

“I’m not nine, Sloane.” His voice was softer, though it still vibrated with controlled anger. “I don’t need you to cover for me like you did when I broke Mom’s favorite vase.” A faint smile momentarily curled the edges of his mouth. “You don’t need to shield me from the consequences of my actions. And money, obviously, isn’t an issue. I can take care of you and the babies.”

“That’s just it...” The pain rising in her gut had nothing to do with the Braxton Hicks contractions and everything to do with the rumors that had swirled around Magnolia Lake her entire life. “Everyone back home will swear I got knocked up on purpose. That this was all some grand plan to secure my family’s future by having a billionaire’s baby.”

“I know Magnolia Lake still feels like a little backwoods town.” He practically snorted. “But even they understand how babies are made.”

“I’m not joking, Benj.” She rubbed her belly. “You don’t understand because...” Sloane shook her head and lay back on the pillow, staring up at the ceiling. “Never mind.”

“No, tell me.” He sat on the edge of his chair. “You say I don’t understand, so school me on why rational adults would completely ignore my role in this and blame you.”

“They’ll say, like mother like daughter.” Tears burned her eyes. Her life in Magnolia Lake seemed like a lifetime ago. Yet, the pain of that phrase uttered underneath folks’ breath still hurt.

Benji was quiet, as if he suddenly remembered the cruel things folks in town had said about her and her mother. He cleared his throat. “You’re not your mom, Sloane. No matter what they say—”

“What they say about her isn’t true.”

Sloane met his gaze. She didn’t always get along with Abigail Sutton. Nor had she completely gotten over her resentment of her mother. But no one else got to talk shit about her. Especially when what they were saying was a bald-faced lie.

Sloane sat up in the bed and adjusted her pillows. “She didn’t ‘trick’ my father into marrying her. She was young and stupid enough to believe he actually loved her. She was too naive to understand that the Suttons would never approve of a poor girl from the wrong side of town.”

“Look, Sloane, I’m sorry for what a few busybodies might’ve said to make you feel that you were somehow inferior. But we both know that isn’t true. I’ve never believed it. Nor does my family.”

She wanted to tell him she knew his mother had never liked her. It was obvious from the coldness in her voice and in her eyes, despite the fake smile she always managed for Sloane’s benefit. Constance Bennett had merely tolerated her, preferring that she and Delia spend time at their home, under her careful supervision.

But there was no point in reopening old wounds when there were fresh ones gushing bright red blood that needed tending.

“You have to admit, it’ll seem odd that you returned to Magnolia Lake a billionaire and suddenly I’m having your babies. Then there’s our age difference.” She pressed a palm to her suddenly throbbing right eye. “Your sister is going to kill me.”

“Forget everyone else for a minute. This isn’t about any of them. It’s about me and you and...” His gaze was drawn to her belly before he raised it to hers again. “Our babies.” He swallowed hard, leaning closer. “Do you mind if... I mean, would it be all right if—”

Her heart swelled with affection for this man. The sheepish look on his face as he struggled to ask for permission to touch her after the intimacy they’d shared that night was utterly adorable.

“Give me your hand.” She reached out for his, guiding it to her belly between the two straps from the electronic fetal monitor that crossed her midsection. “Put your hand here.”