The Billionaire's Bought Bride and Instant Mom Chapter 218

Orion

As I pulled up to Aveline's grandmother's estate, she turned in her seat with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

"I thought you'd be taking me to your place tonight," she said with deliberate provocation. "I'm impressed by your restraint."

I turned around to face her, resting my arm on the back of my seat. "Believe me, nothing would make me happier than bringing my wife home where she belongs. But considering Ryan's current state of euphoria, if you walked through that door tonight, you'd never escape. He'd probably try to superglue you to the furniture."

I rubbed my chin thoughtfully, weighing my options. "So I've made an executive decision. Until we have our proper wedding ceremony, you're welcome to continue living here with your grandmother."

Her eyebrows shot up with mock indignation. "Who says I agreed to move in with you after any wedding? I'm not abandoning Grandmother!"

"Perfect," I said with a grin. "Then she can move in too. I'd love having someone around who can spoil Ryan even more than I do."

She seemed to consider this for a moment, her expression softening slightly. Then she reached for the car door handle but hesitated, turning back to me with a look I couldn't quite decipher—part vulnerability, part determination.

"Orion," she said carefully, "even though we're apparently... legitimately married... I think we should try to maintain the same pace we had before. Our chemistry is still, you know... developing. We'll figure out this whole husband-wife thing eventually."

Those words were music to my ears. "That's the most encouraging thing I've heard all day. Honestly, I was half-expecting you to drag me to divorce court first thing tomorrow morning."

I watched her walk up the steps to the grand entrance, her posture still carrying that mixture of confidence and bewilderment that had captivated me from the beginning. Once she disappeared inside, I allowed myself a moment of pure satisfaction before driving home.

By the time I arrived back at the estate, it was clear that Ryan had been busy. The front entrance was surrounded by an impressive collection of gift boxes and bags, each wrapped with the kind of meticulous care that only a five-year-old could achieve—slightly crooked ribbons, excessive amounts of tape, and enough wrapping paper to supply a small Christmas village.

I parked and walked toward the spectacle, feigning confusion. "Ryan, what's all this? Are we expecting the Queen of England?"

Mitchell emerged from the house with an amused expression. "Master Ryan insisted we visit three different toy stores this afternoon. He was very specific about finding 'mommy presents' and spent considerable time selecting the perfect wrapping paper."

Ryan bounced over to me, his face glowing with pride. "Daddy, I got her Princess Aurora Barbie, and the one with the sparkly dress, and the horse that changes colors, and some art supplies because she's really smart and might like to draw!" His words tumbled out in an excited rush. "Mitchell helped me wrap everything really pretty!"

The casual way he said "mommy" hit me like a freight train of pure emotion. This child had been waiting his entire life for this moment, and now he was planning their future together with all the earnestness his little heart could muster.

I scooped him up in my arms, feeling my throat tighten. "That's incredibly thoughtful, buddy. But your new mom needs to spend tonight with her grandmother, so she won't be coming over."

Ryan's face fell instantly, and I could see tears threatening at the corners of his eyes.

"Hey, hey," I said quickly, "it's not because she doesn't want to see you. It's because she's afraid if she comes here tonight, she'll get so excited about playing with you that she won't be able to leave. She'd want to stay up all night reading stories and playing games, and then her poor grandmother would be all alone."

His expression brightened as he processed this logic. "Oh! So she's being nice to her grandma, like how I'm nice to Great-Grandpa Bryce when he tells his long stories?"

"Exactly like that."

"But I really, really miss her already," he confessed, his voice small and wistful.

"I know you do. How about we call her later for a video chat? You can show her all the presents you picked out."

His entire demeanor transformed back to pure joy. "Really? Can we call her right now?"

"After dinner," I promised, helping him gather the gifts. "Now let's get these inside before they blow away."