The Billionaire's Christmas Son - Leslie North Page 0,21

ease. “Come on. Be in the pictures.”

Rachel held the camera close to her chest. “I don’t know about that.”

Jonas grinned at her from underneath the winter hat he wore—a blue and white cabled pattern with a puff on the top. “This might surprise you, but I know my way around a camera enough to take some photos. Are the settings where you want them?”

“Yes.”

Scott leaned toward her. Rachel handed Jonas the camera and took her son in her arms. She moved off, her heart beating hard in her throat. It was strange, hearing the shutter of her own camera and not being behind it. Rachel didn’t want to think about it, preferring to be in the moment. To enjoy the fall of light on her son’s hair and the laughter in his blue eyes. She rubbed her nose against his, the sound of the shutter clicking barely registering. It would be an incredible picture and one she’d treasure—if Jonas managed to get it in focus, that is.

She put Scott back on his feet and held his mitten-covered hands in hers, turning them around to face Jonas. He had the camera up to his face, but it didn’t hide Jonas’s wide smile.

“You look great,” he called. “The two of you look great.”

9

Jonas had gone to bed feeling as though he’d gained ground with Rachel. The dinner had gone off without a hitch, with her taking formal portraits of the family together. They’d been a good team with the scrapbook. He’d taken nice photos of her with Scott, and she hadn’t seemed too uncomfortable while doing the family portraits. The only problem had been that he’d missed Scott. Jonas half-regretted not inviting him to the dinner, but he was positive it was for the best.

Today was a new day and another photoshoot. One that started with a holiday lunch for no other reason than it was winter, and they were all living in limbo between Christmas and New Year’s. Nobody had plans, and everyone was on board with the lunch he suggested. He’d also let it slip that the photographer and her son would be invited just to pave the way. Rachel could take more photos, and he felt like he needed to make up for not inviting Scott to dinner.

Jonas knocked lightly before entering Rachel’s suite fifteen minutes before they were due at his grandmother’s apartment.

“Hi,” she said, looking flustered and beautiful as she patted at her hair, which was in an elegant knot at the back of her neck. “Are you sure about this? Come in a minute. I’m almost ready.”

He stepped further inside, taking in the scene—the scrapbook neatly perched on the desk, and Scott playing with a set of blocks in the center of the rug in the living area. The door swung shut behind them. “Am I sure about what?”

“Having us at lunch. Scott stayed with Lisa last night, and it worked out well. What changed?”

Jonas took a deep breath. “What changed is that I think you should both be there. You’ve been taking photos for days now, and you’ll be taking them through the New Year, and there’s no use pretending that you don’t have Scott with you.”

Rachel narrowed her eyes, searching his. “They’re going to ask questions.”

“Nobody’s going to ask questions,” he insisted, wanting so much to take her in his arms that it hurt. “They already know he’s here. The portraits are done. Do you have other plans to eat?”

“No,” she admitted, smiling a little. “I just want to be sure—”

“I’m sure.” He caught her hand in his and squeezed.

Rachel’s gaze landed on their joined hands and then snapped back up to his, her cheeks flushing.

A beat passed.

“Okay,” she said, whirling around. “Scott, look who’s here!”

He twisted around from his blocks, saw Jonas, and came running so quickly he stumbled over a stray toy and tumbled onto the carpet. Scott popped right back up, a grin in place.

“Hi, kiddo,” Jonas said.

“Hi. Hi.” Scott was a bundle of energy, jumping into his arms with such force, it surprised Jonas.

“Want to go have some lunch?” Jonas loved watching the different faces his son made, some serious and some comical, but they all made him laugh.

“Yep.” Scott pointed to the door.

Rachel stepped to his side, patting her son warmly on the elbow. “Let’s go, buddy.”

“Yay!” Scott squealed but stayed put in Jonas’s arms, something that made his heart swell with love.

Fifteen minutes later, they stepped inside his grandmother’s apartment, which was teeming with activity. The rest of