Page 29 of Charm (Billionaire Buck Boys #7)

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Holden

I reach my arms out as soon as Jameson walks into the main living room of his penthouse with his bundle of joy. “I want to hold him.”

“Says the greedy uncle.” He laughs. “Sinclair is fast asleep, or she’d be fighting you for holding rights to Morgan.”

I’ve seen my sister-in-law with her son. She’s as smitten with the kid as I am. James is right there with us, as is anyone else who has ever seen the angelic face I’m looking at now.

As my brother tenderly passes his baby over to me, I feel the same rush of emotions I do every time I’m near the little guy.

This is the ultimate. I’m holding the newest member of my family who will grow every day until he’s old enough for me to teach him how to throw a baseball and avoid getting caught when he breaks a window.

I did the same for James, so it only seems fitting that I school his son in the fine art of being a Sheppard, although I will definitely circle back to offer to pay for any windows Morgan might break.

The conscience I lacked when I was a pre-teen seems to have taken root within me now.

“Hey, buddy,” I whisper to my nephew as he stares up at me. “It’s me. Your favorite uncle.”

“Berk and Keats would take issue with that,” Jameson points out. “Sinclair’s brothers love him just as much as you do.”

“Impossible.”

He chuckles. “You didn’t show up here just to cuddle with Morgan, so what’s up, Holden?”

I take one last look at the baby before I level my gaze on James. “I met Greer for a drink tonight. Technically, I was the only one drinking. I had scotch. She had water.”

He takes a seat in a chair across from where I’m sitting on the couch. “Now, that we’ve established what you ordered, get to the good part. Was this meeting related to business or pleasure? Please say both.”

“It was both.”

“Let me guess.” He tugs on the waistband of the sweatpants he’s wearing. “She doesn’t want to sell or sleep with you again.”

My eyes narrow, but I can’t disagree, so I shrug.

“I knew it.” Raking a hand through his hair, he shakes his head. “Your weekend with her killed the deal before we could even properly present it.”

“Not necessarily,” I say, trying to salvage some hope to hand him.

“What the fuck does that mean?”

I pretend to cover Morgan’s left ear. “Language, James. Your son is right here.”

He lifts his ass off the couch by a few inches to get an unobstructed view of the baby’s face before he sits back down. “He’s so enamored with you, he didn’t even react to my voice.”

“He knows which one of us is better-looking.” I smile. “Just admit it.”

“Go to hell,” he swears again, chuckling this time. “Is there a deal to be had with Sweet Indulgence or not? Is it time to walk away from them?”

“No,” I blurt out way too fast.

He taps my shoulder lightly. “That answers my question about whether or not you’re still interested in Greer.”

Shaking my head, I adjust his son in my arms. “I’m very interested in her. She has zero interest in me.”

“Tough luck, old man.”

“She hasn’t completely closed the door to a potential deal, though,” I tell him. “She’ll get back to me in a day or two regarding that.”

He scratches his elbow. “Maybe I should take that call, seeing as how you’re personally invested in the sale.”

“I’m not,” I argue. “I can separate what I’m feeling for Greer with what’s best for Carden.”

“Sure you can.” Wiggling his fingers, he darts both hands in the air toward me. “Give me my boy. It’s time for his hourly kisses on the forehead from his dad.”

I hand over his son carefully and then watch as my brother gingerly trails kisses across his baby’s forehead.

“I love you, Morgan,” he whispers. “Daddy loves you more than you know.”

I’ve never been envious of my brother until now. I rarely admit it to myself, but I want what he has. A woman I love with every part of me and a child of my own are what I long for.

I’m not sure if it’s something I’ll ever have, but a man can dream.

I step out into the cool evening air outside of Jameson’s building and scan the sidewalk. It’s nearing eleven now, and another drink could be on the agenda, but there’s a much more productive way for me to spend the next hour or two until I call it a night.

I fish my phone out of the back pocket of my jeans and scan the screen.

As expected, at least a dozen unopened emails are waiting for me. The notification on my text message app tells me that just as many text messages have come in since I walked into Jameson’s home.

I skim through those quickly, not expecting to find anything interesting.

There’s one from Declan, another from Rook, and the rest are all business related.

“Excuse me, sir.”

I glance up when I hear a feminine voice calling out. I have no idea if I’m the sir she’s talking to, but as soon as I lock eyes with the brunette standing close to me, I realize I am.

“Yes?” I ask.

“I’m lost,” she says with a slight tremor in her tone. “I’m visiting New York and I went to a club. I got turned around, I think. I can’t find my way back to my hotel.”

The short silver dress she’s wearing and the matching heels back up her story. As does the state of her hair since it’s obvious this woman either got caught up in a windstorm, was dancing the night away, or was fucked in that club.

Regardless of how she ended up in front of me with her hair a tousled mess, I’ll offer my assistance.

“What hotel are you staying at?”

A slow smile spreads over her lips. “The Bishop Tribeca. Do you know where that is?”

The phone she’s gripping tightly in her hand would tell her exactly where the hotel is. Any rideshare driver in this city could take her straight there as well, but she’s asking me for a reason.

“I’ll grab a taxi,” I tell her.

Since an available one is about to speed past us on the street, I step to the edge of the sidewalk to flag them down. The driver pulls over almost immediately, just a few feet from where we are.

“I’m Veronica,” she says. “But you can call me whatever you want tonight.”

I swing open the back passenger door of the taxi and hold out my hand to help her slide onto the seat. Without any hesitation, she places her hand in mine.

“I’m going home.” I smile at her before I bend down to look at the driver. “She’s heading to Tribeca. The Bishop Hotel.”

Veronica says something that gets lost behind the car door as I slam it shut.

I pat my stomach through the thin material of my T-shirt. I’ll grab a slice of pizza and a large coffee on my way home, so I can be full of food and caffeine as I clear my email and text messages.

I turn in a circle, taking in this block of the city I love. The architecture never disappoints, the residents always surprise me, and you never know what tomorrow will bring.

In my case, I’m hoping it will bring a call from Greer Irwin. She’s somewhere in this city right now, and that in itself is enough to put a smile on my face.