She Was Never Just the Billionaire’s Wife (Natasha and Chase) novel Chapter 178

(Natasha)

Three weeks since the transfusion.

Lily is on the living room rug in a fresh onesie and the headband Liam sent her with a felt strawberry on it the size of her actual head.

She’s sitting up against the boppy, drooling onto her own thumb, working out whether the wooden spoon Mason brought her last week is interesting or hostile.

Spoon. Mouth. Pause. Spoon. Mouth. Pause.

Cheeks pink. Eyes bright.

Hemoglobin in the boring range James likes to see.

I’ve stopped being actively hostile toward him, but I’m not quite ready to have him over for afternoon tea to try and mend bridges either.

I’m at the dining table with my laptop open and a financial model I’ve neglected for too long.

Mason has allowed me back at the office part-time for ten days.

Only four hours a day, the rest still gets done from home.

The Bauer file sits in a closed folder on my desktop.

Mason has taken care of the brunt of it while I was focused on Lily and I’m very glad not to have heard from Jeffrey again.

Clarice has sent four notes via James.

They're stacked, unopened, on the side table by the door.

I can’t quite get myself to throw them out, but I have no intention of reading them.

The doorbell rings at four.

Lily looks at the door, then at me.

I swear her expression says Hurry up already, I want my daddy.

Chase is on the front step with his arms overloaded.

Two paper bags from the farmer’s market on Larchmont.

A wax-paper bundle from the specialty cheese shop, and a small white box that I know contains lemon tarts from the bakery I love.

"Hi."

"Hi."

Things are not tense exactly, but they’re certainly not comfortable.

I take the cheese and pastries from him to lighten his load.

"There's a chicken in there. Already roasted. Don't argue."

"I wasn't going to."

"And the cheese man said hello."

"I don't know any cheese men."

The look he gives me clearly conveys he knows I’m in that shop at least twice a week.

“I guess you don’t know any bakers either. I bought you some lemon tarts on a whim. I think you’re going to like them.”

That gets a smile from me.

"Thank you, Chase."

"Can I see her?"

"Of course."

I step back and let him in.

He doesn't touch me on the way past.

He drops the paper bags on the kitchen island and then goes straight to the rug.

He sits down on the floor next to Lily in his very expensive jeans and says hello to her in the soft voice he reserves for her and nobody else.

Lily, who is seven months old and misses having both of us around, beams at him and hands him her treasured spoon.

Mason would probably call her a traitor.

Chase takes the spoon with the fanfare and overblown gratitude it deserves.

He's like this every time now.

Shows up with treats we don't need, but definitely enjoy.

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