Prickly Romance: Single Dad AMBW (Billionaire Dads)

Chapter Prickly Romance: EPILOGUE



THREE MONTHS LATER

“Must we attend Adam’s birthday party?” I frown.

“He would be very hurt if he knew you were complaining about going,” Dejonae says from my bathroom.

“The invitation was for appearances’ sake. He knows me well enough not to expect me to go.” I study the MTB update reports on my tablet. The reception was stronger than I anticipated. We might need to manufacture our next batch overseas to keep the cost low.

“What do you have against Adam’s birthday party?”

I huff. “I am tapped out, Dejonae. We attended your family’s intimate graduation dinner. After that, Vanya and Hadyn threw you a ‘graduation bash’. Now, Adam requires my company? I cannot. I am partied out.”

“This is the last party I’ll drag you to for the next week, okay?” Dejonae patters into view, looking like an angel descended from heaven with her smooth dark skin, sparkling eyes and sultry smile. Two different gowns are held up in front of her. “Now stop complaining and tell me which looks better on me. Yaya wanted me to try one of the dresses she’s advertising for.”

“You’d look stunning in both,” I say firmly.

A text arrives.

It is from Akira, letting me know that Niko got to Max and Dawn Stinton’s place safely. She and Beth have arranged for another piano lesson, but as is the case in this group, the boys and Belle refuse to be left out.

Now, my daughter has an academy of her own.

I text a quick reply.

Dejonae stomps toward me. “You didn’t even look up.”

“I don’t need to.” I glance over her. “You will always be the most beautiful woman in the world to me.”

She rolls her eyes, but a pleased smile spreads across her face.

I set my tablet aside and give her the attention she deserves. “Very well.” I wrap my hands around her waist and drive her into me. “Let me see. I like the black one.”

“Sazuki, you’re wrinkling the gowns,” she scolds when I hug her.

I finesse the hangars from her hands and drape her clothes gently on the bed. Returning my arms to her waist, I press my face against her chest.

She is soft and smells like a fragrant flower field.

I slide my palms against her thighs, delighting in the feel of silk and flesh.

“Mm-mm.” She tries to resist me. “We don’t have time for this.”

“Time for what?” I cannot concentrate on her face. Dejonae is wearing a sexy little slip with lace along the top and thin straps. Dark brown skin supple enough to bite tempts me.

“Don’t give me that look, Sazuki.”

“What look?” I moan, tugging her on top of my lap.

She straddles my waist, her dress riding high and exposing her lace undergarments. The friction of her body against my pants rips a groan from me.

How can I have her walking around my bedroom in this strip of clothing and not touch her?

She pops a soft, teasing kiss on my lips, plants her hands on my chest and pushes out of my arms.

I groan again, but she has no mercy.

“Go to Adam’s party with me and we can continue this later.”

“If I don’t?” I ask.

She arches a brow. “Do you want to test me?”

I do not.

Dejonae’s negotiation skills are quite sharp, as proven by the salary she demanded when I offered her a permanent position at the foundation.

She disappears into the bathroom. I am forced to cool my passion by pacing the bedroom and doing a few push ups.

“By the way,” Dejonae’s voice echoes from the bathroom, “Ashanti said to tell you she’d be back for a quick visit this weekend.”

“Ah.” I make a note on my tablet.

After I clarified our relationship, Ashanti returned to her singing job on the cruise ship. Since then, she has kept her distance from me.

However, she and Dejonae made a small truce for Niko’s sake. The two speak on occasion when it pertains to our daughter.

I doubt we will be having a big family dinner any time soon, but at least there seems to be no obvious animosity.

Or perhaps, Dejonae is showing more restraint than I have given her credit for.

Either way, I am determined to ease her mind by assuring her that my heart belongs to her only. My hope is that, when we do have to interact with Ashanti, she will be so confident in my love for her that nothing Ashanti does or says can upset her.

“We have that conference next week, but since Ashanti will be here, I’ll ask Sheila to attend instead of me,” Dejonae says.

“Sheila?” My head lurches up. “You convinced her to stay?”

After Sheila discovered that Dejonae and I were together, she threatened to leave the foundation. No one could get her to change her mind.

“I did,” Dejonae says from the bathroom. “She thought that, because of our bad blood, I’d take my anger out on her.”

“You could have done that many months ago.”

“Yes, but now I’m openly dating the boss and on everyone’s good side.”

She has a point.

I found out Dejonae had been receiving harsh treatment from the staff. They still held her responsible for the scandal with the reporter. When it was brought to my attention, I scolded Dejonae for not telling me. And then I called a meeting, played the audio in which Miss Beverly used a slur against our students and clarified everything.

“I’ll ask Jordan to go with her. Maybe those two can get a little romantic.”

“As long as your ex is not getting romantic with… you.” My voice slows to a stop when Dejonae walks out of the bathroom in a stunning black crop top with long sleeves, jeans and heels.

“What do you think?” She does a little spin, causing her curls to flail around her. “I wasn’t feeling any of the dresses.”

“Beautiful.” I approach her for a kiss.

She glances at her watch and cringes. “Sazuki, we have to leave now.”

I wrap my fingers around her wrists when she tries to dart away. Placing one hand against her back and the other on her cheek, I tilt her head and kiss her deeply.

It is her fault I am so addicted.

She turned a cold, ruthless man who was set in his ways into someone who cannot live without her.

There are consequences for that.

I break off and then kiss her forehead. “Now we can leave.”

Traffic is light and we arrive on time at Adam’s large, country-style cabin nestled in the center of an impressive acreage.

We are the only guests there.

Nova greets us with a strained smile.

Adam is with her as well, drinking beer from a red cup.

“I thought the party would be bigger than this,” Dejonae says.

“We thought we’d keep it small. Just members of the MTB team.”

“Okay.” I agree easily.

I had not been looking forward to mingling with others and wasting time making polite conversation. This is much better.

After an hour of drinking and eating, Nova presents Adam with his birthday gifts. The last one she offers to him is an envelope.

Dejonae leans forward.

I rub her back and look on with interest too, wondering if Nova signed him a check. It seems like her style.

“This is my resignation letter,” Nova says, sliding the envelope over to a wide-eyed Adam.

Dejonae clutches my hand and gives me an astonished look.

I stare at her in confusion.

The room falls into tense silence.

What on earth is happening?

“Is this a joke?” Adam croaks.

“I’m sorry,” Nova says, her eyes on the ground.

“What the hell is the meaning of this?” Adam’s voice trembles.

The party horn that had been halfway to Dejonae’s lips falls to her lap.

Dejonae gives me a panicked glance. She signs, “What do we do?”

I shake my head in return.

The silence stretches so thinly that I fear it will snap at any second.

At that moment, the doorbell rings.

Adam and Nova share a charged look.

I motion to Dejonae. Silently, we rise and head to the door. It does not seem like Adam and Nova are in any position to move at the moment.

I expect the person outside to be another guest or a delivery man.

Instead, there is a child around the age of twelve.

“Are you Adam Harrison?” he asks in a thin voice.

“No, sweetie.” Dejonae drops to the child’s level. “Why are you looking for Adam?”

My eyes dart behind the child to the empty driveway. There are no adults around.

Dejonae notices at the same time and asks, “How did you get here? Where are your parents?”

An uneasy feeling flows through me.

“Adam,” I call darkly, sensing that this is a serious matter.

Adam stomps to the door, his eyes narrowed and a vein bulging in his neck. His gaze falls on the little boy. Rather than brighten with recognition, he seems frustrated.

“Look, kid,” he says brusquely, “I’m not buying anything.”

“I’m not here to sell anything,” the child answers.

“What are you here for then, sweetie?” Dejonae asks, her voice kind and sweet.

Nova draws near to the door. She is peeking over Dejonae’s shoulders to see what is going on.

“I’m here for him.” The child points at Adam.

Adam blanches. “Me?”

The boy nods.

“Why, hun?” Dejonae asks.

“Because,” the boy chews on his bottom lip and then blurts, “because he’s my dad.”

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