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The Billionaire's Wife - Part 2

The Billionaire’s Wife (Part Two)
Author: Ava Claire

SEVEN

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Jacob Whitmore was terrified.

He stood at the balcony, a tense grip on the railing. I braced myself for him to tell me that I’d forgotten my place. That he owed me no explanation. But when he faced me, his eyes told the truth—and the last emotion I ever expected to see in the blue fire that was his gaze cut to my very soul.

I forgot my righteous anger and the claws of fear that scratched my throat and rushed toward him. Before he could open his mouth, before he told me he was okay, I threw my arms around his neck and held on for dear life.

“It’s going to be okay, baby.” I squeezed him tight, believing my words. We could face and conquer anything together.

He didn’t return the hug, separating himself almost instantly. The second time I looked into his eyes his guard was up, hiding the flash of vulnerability I’d seen. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

The apology was a pleasant surprise, but no way would I let it go that easily. I squared my shoulders and put my hand on my hip for good measure. “I was so worried, Jacob. At first I didn’t know if it was me. Or someone else-”

“Like who?” Every perfect inch of his face turned to stone. “Rachel?”

I waved a hand through the air, trying to clear out the negative energy. Her name alone filled the air around us with animosity. “Or whoever.” I locked gazes with him, wanting to make my point very clear. “It’s the fact that you didn’t talk to me. That you didn’t turn to me or believe that I could handle it.” I paused and shook my head when he prepared a rebuttal. “There’s no excuse you can give that will change how hurt I am. I’m your partner, Jacob. You can’t shut me out. We’re better than that.”

I could tell from the stubborn set of his jaw that he didn’t appreciate me essentially shushing him, so I moved closer. I brushed his cheek with my fingertips. He shut his eyes, like he was savoring my touch, and the faintest hint of a smile fluttered across his lips. When he opened his eyes, an emotion I’d never get enough of shined down at me.

Love.

He fondled one of my curls, his voice low and intent. “You know how I feel about repeating myself, but I’ll make an exception. I know I shouldn’t have kept this from you. You mean the world to me, Lay. I don’t want you to ever question my commitment to us, or think that I am shutting you out.” He leaned in, his forehead pressed against mine, his words wrapping me in the sweetest embrace. “I love you…and I’m sorry.”

Tears blurred my vision, but I sniffed and held them back. I lifted on my toes and pecked him on the cheek. “So you have a long lost brother.” I nibbled on my bottom lip, trying to figure out a way to state the obvious. “That should be good news—but it isn’t.”

Jacob inhaled deep, releasing the breath in the form of a exhausted groan. “It’s not a matter of good and bad. It would be easier if it was that black and white.” He loosened his tie, then changed his mind and took it off altogether. He turned to the iron cart near the fire pit where a glass and a nearly empty bottle waited. He swiped the bottle, tipping it in the direction of the wine glass, then shrugged and threw it back instead.

The first reaction that came to mind was to gawk; I’d never seen him drink anything straight from the bottle, desperate for the courage. But I put aside my shock and went with option B. I’d literally just told him that he could turn to me, that we were a team. The last thing he needed right now was me to stare at him like he’d just sprouted a second head.

I made my way to the chaise, waiting for him to finish the bottle. He slammed it onto the cart like he’d just taken a shot, the clang of it making me jump. When he turned back to me, he arched an eyebrow, clearly waiting for me to make some unwelcome comment. I said nothing, only nodding at the chair beside me, letting him make the next move.

He strode to his chair, and lowered himself without a word. His eyes were locked on the sky, his hands folded behind his head. I joined him, swinging my legs over and sinking back with a sigh.

We hadn’t even gotten to the meat of what happened, but the stars seemed to twinkle brighter. Stronger. For the first time in days, I didn’t just see the darkness. The light shone just as brightly.

“It happened two weeks ago,” Jacob said finally, his deep, sure voice breaking the silence. “I went to lunch at Bite with Kirkman to discuss the expansion.”

I nodded, remembering how much Jacob had been dreading that meeting. There were talks about opening a Whitmore and Creighton PR agency in Los Angeles. It was an obvious move considering the glitz, glamour, and perpetual scandal that permeated the Hollywood Hills, but with a steady influx of new clients here and abroad, Jacob had a full plate.

“We’d barely put in our drink order when this kid dashes to the table,” he continued gruffly. “He was on staff, but he wasn’t our waiter. He could barely speak without tripping on his next word and he was just staring at me with stars in his eyes. I assumed he was a fan and thanked him for watching the show. Finally, the starstruck look faded and he told me he was my brother.”

All the questions that swarmed my head since Jacob first told me his secret flew from my lips. “What’s his name? What does he look like? Where has he been?” When I stole a look in my husband’s direction it was crystal clear that he wasn’t in the mood to play twenty questions. “Sorry,” I winced. “This is all just so-”

“Thrilling,” he finished, in what I was sure was the most un-thrilling tone I ever heard.

“You’re right. It should have been good news. Great news, even. Growing up, I used to wish I had someone. A little brother or sister I could confide in. Protect. I had friends, but I couldn’t talk to them about how much I missed my father. Or how much I missed my mother, even though we lived under the same roof. They wouldn’t get it.” He glanced at me, his eyes on fire with emotion before he extinguished the flame. “His name is Cole Sommers. He’s slightly shorter than I am, lean, blond…with my mother’s eyes.”

“He’s Alicia’s son?” I gasped, the weight of it dropping and leaving me breathless. All signs pointed to that reality, but I’d just assumed it was another love child of Jacob’s father. After hearing how Alicia stuck by her husband while he had affairs, international and stateside, how he unabashedly fell in love with Allegra, boldly bringing his son to meet the other woman, I had pictured a long suffering woman that must have clung to her vows because it was the only thing she had left. I pictured her broken-hearted, filled with grief and bitterness, her only solace being that at the end of the day, she was his wife. She was Mrs. Carlton Whitmore.

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