The Billionaire's Bought Bride and Instant Mom Chapter 73

Orion

I turned to see Mitchell standing in the doorway with an apologetic expression, his hand gently resting on Ryan's small shoulder.

"I'm so sorry, sir," Mitchell whispered. "Master Ryan heard that his teacher was here and absolutely insisted on coming down to see her. I couldn't convince him otherwise."

Looking at my son standing there in his dinosaur pajamas—complete with a hood that had little green spikes and googly eyes—I felt something warm unfold in my chest. His dark hair was sticking up in all directions, and his serious expression was so earnest it made my heart clench.

For once, I didn't want to deflect or maintain the careful distance I usually kept. I smiled, my voice soft so I wouldn't wake Aveline. "Yes, buddy. Your teacher couldn't fall asleep tonight, so I sang her a lullaby to help her feel better."

Ryan's entire face lit up like I'd just told him Christmas was coming early. "Daddy, you've gotten so much better! You're being really good now!"

I caught Mitchell trying to suppress a laugh behind his hand, which made me narrow my eyes at him. "What do you mean I've gotten better? When was I bad?"

Ryan immediately reached for my hand, tugging me toward the door while launching into what was apparently a very detailed assessment of my recent parenting performance.

"Well," he said seriously, counting on his small fingers as we walked, "you made that mean Melody teacher try to teach me, and then you were too busy to play with me, so that was bad. And then you wanted to make me change schools, which was also bad. But then you let me go back to my real school, so that was good. And now you're taking care of Miss Aveline when she's sad, so that's really, really good!"

The matter-of-fact way he delivered his verdict made me laugh despite myself. I scooped him up into my arms, marveling at how light he felt, how perfectly he fit against my chest.

"You little troublemaker," I said, pressing a kiss to the top of his messy hair. "You really keep score of everything I do, don't you? But tell me something—why do you like your teacher so much?"

"I like everything about her! The way she looks, the way she talks to me, the way she smiles! She's just like... like my real mommy!"

His innocent honesty made my throat tight. "That's wonderful, buddy. But you know... Miss Aveline probably can't be your mommy. That's not how these things work."

Ryan considered this very seriously for what felt like a full minute, his dark eyes—so much like my own—focused with the kind of intense concentration he usually reserved for his most challenging puzzles.

Finally, he looked up at me with perfect five-year-old logic and announced, "That's okay. If she can't be my mommy, then when I grow up, I'll marry her! Then we can live together and she can listen to my music every day and I can take care of her when she's sad, just like you did tonight!"

This time Mitchell's laugh escaped completely, and he quickly covered it with a cough. "Well," he said, his eyes twinkling with amusement, "I have to say, Master Ryan, you're definitely more decisive than your father."

Ryan looked between us with confusion, clearly not understanding the adult implications of Mitchell's comment, but I shot the butler a warning glare that promised revenge later.

"It's getting quite late," Mitchell continued quickly, though he was still smiling. "I should go arrange for the maids to help Ms. Reeves change into something more comfortable for sleeping. That dress can't be pleasant to sleep in."

As Mitchell disappeared down the hallway, I carried Ryan to his bedroom and set him gently on his bed. But when I reached for the light switch, he caught my arm.

"Daddy, aren't you going to sing me to sleep too?"

I paused, looking down at his hopeful face, then sat on the edge of his bed with a gentle smile. "Tell me, buddy—who was it that just announced he wants to marry his teacher when he grows up?"

Ryan nodded enthusiastically. "Me!"

"And if you want to marry Miss Aveline someday, what does that make you?"

"Um..." Ryan thought hard, then his face brightened with understanding. "A man?"

"That's right. A grown-up man. And grown-up men are strong and brave, aren't they?"

Ryan sat up straighter, puffing out his small chest with pride. "Yes! Very strong and very brave!"

"So," I said, smoothing down his dinosaur hood and tucking the blankets around him, "do you think a strong, brave man who wants to protect his teacher needs his daddy to sing him to sleep?"

Ryan's expression grew very serious as he considered this profound question. Finally, he made a determined fist and held it up in the air like a tiny warrior.

"I'm a man now, Daddy! I don't need anyone to sing me to sleep! I can take care of myself so I can take care of Miss Aveline too!"

His fierce declaration, delivered in his sweet little voice while wearing dinosaur pajamas, was simultaneously the most adorable and heartbreaking thing I'd ever witnessed.

"That's my boy," I said softly, pressing one last kiss to his forehead. "Goodnight, Ryan. Sweet dreams."

"Goodnight, Daddy!" he chirped, already settling deeper into his pillow with obvious satisfaction. "I'm going to dream about being strong and brave!"