The Baby (The Boss #5) Read Online Abigail Barnette

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Billionaire, Contemporary, Erotic, Romance Tags Authors: Series: The Boss Series by Abigail Barnette
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Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 108905 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 545(@200wpm)___ 436(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
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“I haven’t seen that movie,” he admitted sheepishly. “It looked—”

“Like a girl movie.” I rolled my eyes. “I won’t force you to watch it.”

“I have a feeling that, once I’m out of here, mental institution dramas will be fairly low on my list of must-see entertainment.” The fact that his dry humor hadn’t altered bolstered my mood. He went on, “No, I haven’t seen any dramatic episodes since I’ve been here. I’m sure they happen, but they must be kept fairly under wraps. The other patients here are either wealthy or high profile, and I’m sure they don’t trust us to not tell tales.”

“Oh, right. I shouldn’t have asked, maybe.” I chewed my bottom lip. “They made me sign a non-disclosure agreement with all sorts of scary warnings.”

“They made me sign one, too.”

Our shoes crunched on the shallow gravel as we turned for another pass around a row of topiary.

Neil cleared his throat. “May I ask you something personal?”

The corner of my mouth twitched. “We’re married.”

“True.” He still seemed to struggle with asking. “When El-Mudad came to visit you…”

“No.” I shook my head. “We did not sleep together.”

I expected him to look relieved, but Neil just frowned and said, “Ah.”

“That’s not what you wanted to hear?” I looked across the lawn guiltily, to see if anyone could overhear us. What would someone think if they did? Maybe they’d try to counsel Neil right out of our unconventional relationship dynamic. He wouldn’t take kindly to that.

If Neil shared my self-conscious fear, he didn’t lower his voice or even glance around to see if we were alone. “No. No, in fact, I suggested it to him. Didn’t he tell you that?”

“No. Maybe he thought…” I don’t know what he’d thought. “Maybe he was afraid it would sound like a come on if he said, ‘Oh, by the way, your husband said it was cool if you wanted to bang.’”

“Yes, I can almost imagine him using those exact words,” Neil chided.

“Don’t be a smart ass.” I don’t know where my anger came from, but it was suddenly there, so big and hot I could barely contain it. “You don’t get to joke about this. What you did… You abandoned me, Neil! And, now, you’re joking about the fact that you left me all by myself?”

I should have regretted my words at his wounded expression, but I didn’t. He started to say something, and I cut him off. “No. You know, I get that losing your daughter was hard for you. But it was hard for me, too. And for Olivia. And, rather than stay with us and get through this together, you hoarded your pain until you had the courage to try and check out. It’s bullshit, Neil!”

“I was just worried that you might be lonely—”

“Were you worried I might be lonely after you killed yourself?” I demanded.

He didn’t answer.

“You killing yourself? It wouldn’t have brought Emma and Michael back. But it would have destroyed me. You know what? No. It has destroyed me.” Damn it, I didn’t want to cry, but there I was, wiping tears away with my thumb and trying to not smudge my makeup.

I’d just made up my mind to turn and storm away, to leave him here to rot for all I cared, but he put his arms around me, and I was helpless. I needed him to hold me, because he hadn’t in so long. And, stupidly, I needed to be able to pretend that physical closeness would make everything okay again.

“I do love you,” he murmured against the top of my head. “And Olivia. That’s why I’m here. I promise, I’m not going to try to leave again.”

“I’m sorry,” I bleated against his shoulder. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t want to do this today. I was trying to be supportive, I just—”

“You’re here,” he said, stepping back and holding me by my upper arms. “You’re here, when you could have walked away.”

“Thanks for giving me credit for that,” I said, sniffing through my laughter. “This place requires international travel to get here.”

He smiled sadly. “I’m sorry we’re here, Sophie. I truly am. When I can, I want to make it up to you.”

I shook my head. “No. It’s not like this is something you can make up for, anyway. We just keep going forward. Get yourself better, get yourself home for us, we’ll go back to therapy, and you and I will be square.”

He hugged me again, and I resisted letting go until the last possible moment.

“I do want you to consider…” he began cautiously when we stepped apart. “Not to be crude or prurient, but I do feel that you need…”

“To get laid?” I snorted.

“Well, yes.” He put his hands in his pockets as we walked. “I’m not sure how you would go about that now, but ideally, if there were a possibility…”


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