Rude Boss' Secret Baby: A Single Mom Romance (Tall, Dark and Handsome Billionaires Book 4) Read online

  Rude Boss’ Secret Baby

  A Single Mom Romance

  J.P. Comeau

  Copyright © 2021 by J.P. Comeau

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Epilogue

  Prologue

  Trey

  Six Months Ago

  Have you ever had one of those days that seems to have no end in sight? You know the ones. The ones where every time you get up, someone emails you? The ones where you can’t even take a bathroom break because of the emergencies flooding your desk? The ones where it seems as if the children won’t stop screaming, the cauldron won’t stop bubbling over, and every corner you turn has a nice, sharp Lego for your bare-ass feet?

  Yeah, today sucked.

  While I loved my secretary with all of my heart—mostly because she reminded me of my grandmother—only having her part-time was killing me. On the days she wasn’t at her desk, I could barely get my shit done because I had to field her stuff. And the times she took vacation? Like right now? The entire week could kick rocks, as far as I was concerned.

  “Another one?” the bartender asked.

  I held up my empty glass before sliding it his way. “One more, but that’s it.”

  He snatched up my glass. “You driving?”

  I shook my head slowly. “Nah, but I still can’t wake up with a hangover. Too much at stake tomorrow.”

  He chuckled. “Sounds like it’s pretty important.”

  You have no idea.

  I picked at my nail beds and sat there, waiting for my third scotch. I never drank scotch, usually. It burned too much and singed my nose hairs if I swallowed it the wrong way. But, today had sucked, and it brought me to a terrible conclusion I didn’t want to face yet.

  I might have to fire my work mee-maw.

  “What would ya like, sweetie?” the bartender asked.

  I raised my eyes at the sound of the man’s voice, and I found a beautiful woman sitting at the other end of the bar. Wait, no-no. Not beautiful. The damned woman was drop-dead gorgeous.

  “I’ll have a Jack and Coke, please,” she said.

  Only strong women drink those kinds of drinks.

  “Coming right up.” The bar tender handed me my glass.

  I nodded mindlessly. “Thanks.”

  Before I started staring at the unassuming woman who was playing around on her phone, I dropped my eyes back to my scotch. But, I was no longer interested in throwing it back and getting the hell out of Dodge. I suddenly had the urge to stay out a bit later, to nurse my drink a little slower than I had originally intended.

  And as I kept stealing glances at this breathtaking woman, I drank in her features.

  She had pin-straight brown hair that looked to be on her head in droves. The woman had the thickest hair I’d ever seen, and my fingertips ached to sink deep into the sea of softness. Even with the truncated view of her torso, I could tell she was a thicker woman, with curves like the waves of the sea and valleys like the craters of the earth. And her eyes… holy fuck. Her eyes were the bluest I’d ever seen. In the right glint of light, they almost looked photoshopped onto her face.

  Dammit, I loved a thick-bodied woman.

  “Sir?” the bartender asked.

  His voice ripped me from my trance. “Yep?”

  He handed me a shot. “Courtesy of the woman at the end of the bar.”

  And when I looked back over toward her, I found her staring at me with a smile on her face before she waved her hand in my direction. Her curves were ready to lick, and she knew what she wanted in her life. I couldn’t let the opportunity pass me by.

  So, I threw back the shot and scooped up my drink before making my way toward her end of the bar.

  “Evening,” I said as I slid into the seat next to her.

  She peeked over at me. “Hello there.”

  I grinned. “Out of all the things I thought you were wearing beneath the bar, a pencil skirt wasn’t what came to mind. Long day at work?”

  She snickered. “You could say that, yeah.”

  I leaned against the small back of the barstool and held out my hand. “I’m Trey.”

  She shook my hand softly but with confidence. “Leslie.”

  “It’s very nice to meet such a lovely woman after the day I’ve had.”

  She snickered. “Rough day for you, too?”

  I winked at her. “You could say that, yeah.”

  She blushed, and I wanted to know what that color looked like over the rest of her body.

  “So, are we going to mutually talk about our terrible days? Or, are we going to act like they didn’t exist and talk about anything else?”

  She licked her lips. “You know, I’m kind of a fan of the third option.”

  I quirked an eyebrow. “And which option is that?”

  She leaned in close, and I smelled her candy-laced body spray as it wafted up my nose. “The option where neither of us speaks at all.”

  “I like the sound of that.”

  She turned back to her drink and sipped on it, but I saw her stealing little glances at me. I kept myself turned toward her as I chugged back my drink, waiting patiently as her own dash of liquid courage seeped slowly into her stomach. I couldn’t wait to sink my teeth into her excess. I couldn’t wait to coat my dick between her luscious thighs.

  Then, after she finished her drink, she swiveled herself toward me. “So, Trey. Tell me the worst highlight of your day.”

  I chuckled. “I thought we weren’t going to talk about our days?”

  “That’s when I wasn’t buzzed. Now, I have my God-given right to bitch if I so choose.”

  I smirked. “Very well. Care to do the bitching in my car? My place is only fifteen minutes from here.”

  She winked at me. “Ever heard of taking your time?”

  “Foreplay. I like it. All right, I’ll bite. The worst highlight from my entire day was having to fire two of my interns because I caught them getting it on while clocked in.”

  She giggled. “I suppose that isn’t that bad.”

  “This wasn’t the first time they’d been caught.”

  She nodded slowly. “Okay, I can see how that—”

  I cleared my throat. “They were in my office when I came back from lunch.”

  She almost choked on a piece of ice she was chewing. “Holy shit.”

  I scoffed. “Yeah, you’re telling me. I had my entire damn place cleaned down, which put me working in the conference room of all places. That then spiraled into people believing I was free to talk since I wasn’t in my office, so from the time I caught two of my interns hooking up against my desk
until the time I finally clocked out, I got only half the work done that I needed to because ‘office with the door closed’ means ‘no,’ and apparently ‘conference room with the door closed’ means ‘open the floodgates.’”

  She threw her head back in laughter, and the sound washed over me like warm syrup over a stack of pancakes. With her neck exposed, I could almost taste the sweetness of her skin against my teeth, if that were even a thing. This woman had a pull on me that I couldn’t resist a second longer. I needed to get her back to my place. I needed to hear her choking when she got off as she tried to remember my name.

  “So,” I said as I scooted a little closer to her, “what do you say you give me the worst highlight of your day while we swing by a drive-thru and get some french fries? We can share a large or something on the way back to my place. Then, maybe I could have my chef cook us up a midnight snack. You know, after we’ve made room for it.”

  Her eyes swept down my body before her gaze came crawling back up to mine, and I knew I had her. That line always worked, especially when I dropped the fact that I had an in-house chef. I had a lot of things at my disposal that most people didn’t: a chef, a butler, a doctor I could call at a moment’s notice, groundskeepers who kept my estate painstakingly tailored from front to back, a maid staff that came and went as they pleased twenty-four-seven. I knew something was bound to catch her eye.

  “Actually, I think I have to be getting home.”

  I blinked. “What was that?”

  She gathered her purse from the seat beside her and slid to her feet. “I have to be getting home. It’s later than I figured it was, and I have some things I need to tend to.”

  I looked down at my watch. “It’s only ten o’clock.”

  She cursed beneath her breath. “Yeah, I needed to be home half an hour ago.”

  “Well, let me at least walk you out to your—”

  She cut me off. “Bartender? Just charge my card you have on file, please?”

  I waved my hand in the air. “Put her drinks on my tab. Are you sure you don’t want me to at least give you a ride?”

  She shook her head and started for the exit door. “Really, I’m good. But thank you. It was nice talking with you tonight.”

  I started scrambling for last-minute tactics. “Can I at least get your number?”

  “Have a good evening!” she called out from the door.

  And just as quickly as she had fluttered into my life on the wings of an angel, she wafted away. Soaring into the distance through the exit doors and dumping out onto a bustling sidewalk as people flooded the bar.

  I sat there, dumbfounded at what just happened.

  Had I seriously been turned down?

  Women never turn me down.

  As the bar flooded with a bunch of stupid college kids, I eased myself off the barstool. I felt stunned to my core as I mindlessly paid for both of our tabs and made my way back out into the parking lot. Was it something I had said? Surely, it wasn’t because of what I looked like. I kept myself up well, my grooming tactics always kept up with modern standards, and I never cheaped out on a fucking suit. I paid well for the clothes I wore and the cologne I spritzed onto my skin every morning.

  But, as I nonchalantly dropped the bartender a Benjamin for his troubles, I found myself leaving the bar.

  Alone.

  After being bought a drink by the most gorgeous woman I’d ever set my sights on.

  Leslie

  I opened my townhouse door and heard Suri yelling for me. “It’s about damn time you got home!”

  I almost couldn’t think straight; I was so riled up. I closed the door behind me and locked it as my best friend of all time came waltzing around the corner. She had her disapproving glare on with her hands cocked against both of her hips, and I knew I owed her a serious apology.

  Mostly, because I was supposed to be home an hour ago. “Thank you so much for watching Aurora,” I said with a sigh.

  Suri narrowed her eyes. “You met someone tonight, didn’t you?”

  I scoffed. “Yeah, a little too late as well, I might add.”

  She threw her hands into the air. “Then, why didn’t you text me? I would’ve stayed here and hung out. Probably crashed in your guest bedroom down here or something.”

  I walked toward her and enveloped her in a big hug. “I didn’t want to leave you here longer than I needed to, especially since I can’t pay you for the overtime.”

  She wrapped me up tightly. “There’s no overtime when I’m watching my goddaughter. Got it?”

  I closed my eyes. “I love you so much.”

  “That hot, huh?”

  I groaned. “You have no idea.”

  I sniffed the air and smelled the remnants of pizza, so I started my hunt. Suri slid my purse off my shoulder and hung it up as I made my way into the kitchen. I sighed with relief when I saw the unopened pizza just for me.

  “Pepperoni and mushroom with pineapple?” I asked.

  Suri giggled as she came to meet up with me. “Just the way you like it.”

  “Oh-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho. Do we have Ranch? Please, tell me we have Ranch.”

  My best friend wiggled her eyebrows. “I had to buy some from the pizza place, but there are three small containers of it in the fridge.”

  “You’re my soulmate, you know that?”

  “And as your soulmate, I’m telling you that the next time you meet a hot guy after I shove you out the door to go have some ‘you time,’ the thing you should do is text me to tell me you’ll be late.”

  I picked up a slice of lukewarm pizza and took a bite. “Noted.”

  As much as I wanted to cry, stuffing my face with pizza was the next best thing. So, I walked Suri to the door before I stacked a plate full of the cheesy, meaty, pineapple-y goodness. I grabbed my ranch and plucked a Dr. Pepper from the door of the fridge before I made my way upstairs, stopping just shy of my daughter’s bedroom.

  I heard her soft snores leaking through the small crack the door, and the sound settled my restless soul. “We’ll find a way to make it, I promise,” I whispered.

  I made my way into my bedroom and headed straight into my en-suite bathroom. It was kind of small, and sometimes I had trouble navigating my way through it. But, I put up with it because the shower-tub combination was large enough for me to take a legitimate bath in it. I set my food down and stripped myself of my work clothes. I tossed them into the hamper just outside of my bathroom door, then readied myself for a nice bath. I poured rose-scented bubbles into the hot bath water and rummaged around for Old Faithful—my vibrator that did wonderful, ethereal things to my body.

  “Come to Mama,” I murmured.

  With my child-sized TV tray pulled up to the edge of the bathtub that my daughter didn’t use any longer, I set my pizza and drink beside me. Then, after turning off the bathwater, I tossed my leg over the frothy edge. I dipped my vibrator beneath the bubble-coated waters and parted my pussy lips, allowing my eyes to fall closed just long enough to conjure the image of Trey.

  And when I turned my vibrator up, my toes started curling. “Holy fuck, just like that,” I groaned.

  It never took long when I was at the reins. I knew exactly where to massage and where to pivot. I knew exactly how to buck against my toy to hit all those lovely spots. I knew how to make my toes curl from the very beginning, and I knew how to pucker my tits as my orgasm crashed over my body.

  And as I choked back my sounds, chanting Trey’s name at the back of my throat, I settled heavily against the bathtub as bubbles slowly trickled down the side and onto the tiled flooring.

  “Shit,” I whispered.

  I felt sweat dripping down the nape of my neck. I felt my face flushed with redness as I stared at the shower-head diagonally above me. The smell of pizza and ranch was what got me to move, and I moved just enough to nab a slice before dipping it into some dressing. Then, I closed my eyes.

  I had no idea what the hell I was going to do about bills. I mean, being lai
d off wasn’t the first thing I expected from my day when I waltzed into work this morning. And yet, I should have seen it coming. The way people started talking to me as if I didn’t matter, and the way my boss kept stealing glances at me throughout the week. It was almost as if everyone else knew but me before the firing truly happened. And that pissed me off more than anything.

  “Fucking assholes,” I murmured.

  In about a year, the savings account I had managed to save up would be depleted. Between food and bills and rent, I was lucky if I’d even have that long. Aurora and I would have to find a cheaper place to live if I couldn’t find a job within the next few months. I had to make this money stretch as much as I possibly could.

  You know you can find a job that you won’t hate if you put your mind to it.

  I sighed as I reached for my Dr. Pepper. Why didn’t anyone tell me that having an art history degree was practically worthless unless I wanted to teach? Or obtain a higher level of education? For a moment, I turned over the idea of enrolling in teaching classes at the local community college. That would enable me to take out student loans to keep myself and Aurora afloat in this place, at least until I graduated.

  Then, what?

  I’d have mounds of debt to pay back on a teacher’s salary?

  “Hell, no,” I murmured.

  The only good thing that came from my degree was the fact that I could remake myself into anything. You know, since it was fucking worthless. And over the past eight years, I’d done just that. I’d played the part of a cashier, a manager at a gas station, a full-time lunch lady, a bus driver, and a secretary. So, surely there was something out there that would enable me to have a steady nine-to-five without compromising my time with Aurora.

  I finished my dinner and stayed in the tub until I was wrinkly and unsightly. Then, I drained the tub and got out. I washed my toy down and stored it away from the prying eyes of my offspring, then I dried off and fell into bed without any clothes on. I was much too tired to get into pajamas, so I wiggled beneath my down comforter and wrapped myself up tightly in it.