The Billion Dollar Pact: Waking Up with the Boss (Billionaire Brothers Club) / Single Mom, Billionaire Boss / Paper Wedding, Best-Friend Bride

“It can happen at any hour. The queasiness just started, about ten minutes ago. For the very first time.”

“Damn. Do you want a cup of water or anything?”

“Soda sounds good.” Hopefully it would settle her stomach. “There’s lemon-lime pop in the fridge.”

He headed to the kitchen, returning with the drink she’d requested. Carol gripped the can, appreciating how cold it was. She flipped the top and took a small sip.

“Thank you,” she said after she swallowed it.

“You’re welcome, but you still look like hell.”

“Gee, thanks.”

He sat beside her. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

She sipped a bit more of the soda, afraid she might faint, falling headfirst onto his lap. “If I pass out, don’t panic.”

“Oh, crap. Really? Tell me what to do.”

She didn’t have a clue. She’d never lost consciousness before. “Nothing.”

“Nothing?” He sounded on the verge of panic already. “Maybe you should put your head between your knees. I always heard that’s what someone should do. But maybe not in your condition.” Clearly, he was clueless, too. “Do you want to lie down?”

“Yes, I think I should.” She handed him the soda, and he moved off the couch, giving her room to stretch out. Between the wooziness and the nausea, she wasn’t doing well.

Carol reclined, and Jake towered over her, peering down at her face. This had to be miserable for him.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“It’s not your fault.” He blew out a ragged breath. “I can finish packing. There isn’t that much left to do.”

“You’re so helpful.” She teased him, trying to ease the tension. “Are you going to change diapers when the baby is born, too?”

“I guess I’m going to have to learn. But I also think I should hire a nanny to go back and forth between your place and mine. I can turn the second guest wing in my house into the nanny’s quarters. Then she can stay there whenever the baby sleeps at my place.”

As opposed to him coming over to Carol’s house to tuck their child in at night, like he’d originally planned? “I just wish that feeling lousy wasn’t part of this. Being queasy is the worst.”

“I hope I don’t get queasy when I have to change a dirty diaper. I used to gag when I was kid and I had to pick up dog poop.”

She squinted up at him. This was a weird conversation, but at least it was helping her focus on something besides being sick. “You had a dog?”

“No. But my sisters and I used to pet-sit for a neighbor. I was terrible at it. I wonder if we should get our kid a puppy, though.”

“That’s sweet. But maybe we’ll stick to stuffed animals at first.” She sat up and reached for the soda, taking it from him. “I’m starting to feel better now.”

His gaze locked on to hers. “Are you sure?”

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