Page 30 of The Billionaire’s Paradise (My Billionaire #4)

The call came just after breakfast, while I was halfway through an overripe papaya and Cal was arguing with the blender and losing.

Leilani’s voice was bright. “It worked!”

That was all she said.

And I knew exactly what she meant.

“Oh my God,” I whispered, dropping the papaya and screeching—“Cal!”

He turned mid-blender battle, barely able to hear me over the whir of the machine. “What?”

“She’s pregnant!”

The blender shut off, and Cal was suddenly crossing the kitchen in three long strides before pulling me into the tightest hug of my life.

We stood there, clutching each other, laughing, crying, rocking side to side.

“She’s pregnant,” I said again, uselessly. “We’re having a baby.”

“I know,” Cal said, laughing against my neck. “We’re having a baby. ”

I pulled back just enough to see his face, to memorize the moment—the damp lashes, the crooked smile, the stunned, disbelieving joy.

“We’re going to be dads,” I whispered.

He nodded, blinking fast. “You and me. Sleep -deprived. Covered in spit-up. Arguing about diaper brands.”

“Making up over adorable onesies and snoring together on the couch,” I added.

He laughed, that deep, breathless laugh I loved so much, then he grabbed my face in both hands. “Matt. We’re bringing a human into the world. A whole new person.”

“God help them,” I murmured.

Cal kissed me, sweet and certain. “They’re gonna have the best life.”

And in that moment I felt an emotion I wasn’t expecting.

Hope.

Real, ridiculous, terrifying, beautiful hope.

There are certain nights that stamp themselves into your memory—not because of how perfect they were, but because of how gloriously, deliriously alive they made you feel. This was one of those nights.

The table was too small for all of us to fit properly, the food was slightly burnt, and Mrs. Mulroney had insisted on uncorking a bottle of wine with a meat cleaver. But the air? The air practically sang with something electric.

“She’s what ?” Angus boomed from across the table, his fork frozen halfway to his mouth.

“Pregnant,” I said, for what I was starting to realize might be the fiftieth time that day. “Leilani’s pregnant. With our baby.”

Kimo whooped so loud I swear the lights flickered.

Tutu gasped and immediately started crying.

Nakoa puffed his chest proudly. Mr. Banks started quietly singing “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star”.

While Mrs. Mulroney blew her nose into a napkin and declared, “I hear the pitter-patter of little feet already. Either that or I lost control of my bladder in all the excitement.”

Cal squeezed my thigh under the table like he still couldn’t believe it was real.

Leilani, radiant and awkward in equal measure, just smiled shyly and said, “First trimester, so don’t jinx it. But… yes.”

The room erupted with joy again.

Her family raced around the table to hug her, then our family joined in the group hug.

Suddenly we were all tangled in arms and elbows, pressed together in a clumsy embrace full of laughter and limbs. Tutu's flower crown ended up around my neck. Mrs. Mulroney’s tears drenched my shirt. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was the love we felt at that moment.

“This baby’s got more people crying over it than Marley and Me ,” Rashida said, dabbing her eyes with a cocktail napkin.

“I’ll handle story time,” Mr. Banks offered. “I have a delightful collection of Eastern European folktales involving medieval torture and village witches.”

“We are not traumatizing the baby,” Cal stated, his voice firm but calm like he was already practicing being a dad.

“I call bathtime duty!” Angus bellowed. “Better stock up on bubble bath.”

“Absolutely not,” said three people at once.

“I’m knitting a swaddle blanket,” Mrs. Mulroney said. “It started out as mittens, then turned into a bonnet, then I got excited and just kept going. It may be more difficult to fold than a fitted sheet, but at least the little darling will be snug.”

Leilani laughed, cheeks pink. “That sounds adorable.”

Tutu reached out and took her granddaughter’s hand, squeezing it gently. “You continue to make this family proud, keiki. Every single day. ”

Leilani’s eyes shimmered, and I watched her blink hard, trying not to cry. “Guess I better keep it up, then.”

Cal looked at me, then around the room at this crazy, messy, overwhelming pile of people who had somehow fused into one amazing family unit—and he smiled.

“How are we going to fit them all in the waiting room?” he whispered.

“We’re not,” I said. “We’re going to need a stadium.”

With a clink of his fork against a glass, Cal stood.

“You’re making a speech?” I asked, surprised and instantly impressed with my man.

He shrugged. “It’s as good a time as any… right?”

The chatter dimmed—well, mostly. Mr. Banks was now humming “ Rock - a - bye Baby ” before Rashida elbowed him.

Cal cleared his throat. “I’m not really the speech type,” he said, looking around at the faces smiling back at him—some tearful, some grinning, some completely unhinged in the best possible way.

“But… I just want to say thank you. To Leilani, for her incredible heart. To our families—for showing up, for caring so fiercely, for being as weird and wonderful as you are.”

He paused, eyes landing on me. “And to Matt—for making me believe in all of this. In love, in family… in whatever kind of future we get to build now.”

A murmur of “awww” rippled through the room. Mr. Banks saluted, Mrs. Mulroney crossed herself, and Angus burst into tears of joy while Kimo cuddled him with a “There, there, little buddy. Let all that happiness out. It will fill your aura with love.”

Cal raised his glass. “To the future. And to the tiny, perfect newcomer who’s about to change everything.”

Glasses clinked. Someone spilled something. Tutu said “amen.” And for a moment, the entire room just… breathed together.

We ate.

We drank wine and champagne, except for Leilani .

We celebrated.

As Angus and Kimo began to clear dessert, I saw Nakoa lean over to Leilani and say, “I’m gonna need to meet with the family elders this week. There’s been some talk… land issues.”

Leilani nodded, brow tightening slightly. “Everything okay?”

“Probably,” Nakoa said, though his voice carried that kind of probably that meant not really . “I’ll let you know.”

But then Kimo made a loud joke, Angus giggled, and the moment drifted into the background like a cloud that hadn’t decided whether or not to rain.

The night lingered on—stories, teasing, a brief ukulele interlude courtesy of Tutu Makani—and somewhere between the laughter and the leftovers, I caught Cal watching me with that look again.

Like he still couldn’t believe it.

And maybe I couldn’t either.

We were having a baby.