The Billionaire’s Secret Heirs (Celine and Hunter) novel Chapter 82

Chapter 82

Chapter 82

CELINE

I was elbow deep in Hunter’s laundry when I found it. A tiny sock. Blue with little dinosaurs on it.

My heart stopped.

It was wedged between two of Hunter’s dress shirts, so small I almost missed it. But there it was…Ceasar’s sock, the one I had been searching for all week.

How on earth had it gotten mixed in with Hunter’s clothes?

I held the little sock up to the light streaming through the laundry room window, my mind racing. The only way this made sense was if….

“Oh no,” I whispered to myself. “Please tell me he didn’t.”

But even as I said it, I knew exactly what had happened.

Last week, when Ceasar had that huge tantrum about wanting to see “Mr. Hunter’s big room,” I had been so frazzles have gotten distracted during laundry sorting.

Which meant I had been washing Hunter’s underwear with my three–year–old’s socks for a week.

I buried my face in my hands. Could this job get any more mortifying?

“Mommy?”

I spun around to find Ceasar standing in the doorway, his dark curls a mess and his blue eyes…bright with curiosity.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“Why are you hiding in the washing place?”

“I’m not hiding,” I said, quickly shoving the sock into my pocket. “I’m working.”

calm him down that I must

“Can I help?” He bounced on his toes, and I couldn’t help but smile/Ceasar had been asking to “help” with everything lately, which usually meant making twice as much work for me.

“Actually,” I said, glancing at the basket of Hunter’s perfectly pressed shirts, “maybe you should go play with your trucks instead.”

“But I want to help!” His bottom lip jutted out in that way which meant a meltdown was coming. “Please, Mommy?”

Before I could respond, footsteps echoed in the hallway outside. Heavy, measured footsteps that made my pulse quicken.

Hunter.

“Ceasar,” I hissed, “come here. Now.”

But my son had other ideas. The moment Hunter appeared in the doorway, Ceasar launched himself forward like a tiny missile.

“Mr. Hunter! Mr. Hunter! Look what I found!”

Hunter caught him easily, his large hands gentle as he steadied the excited toddler. “What did you find, buddy?”

My heart did that stupid fluttering thing it always did when I saw them together. Hunter looked so natural with Ceasar in his arms, so right, that it physically hur

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Chapter 82

“I found Mommy hiding with your clothes!” Ceasar announced proudly

Hunter’s eyes met mine over Ceasar’s head, and I felt my cheeks flame. “I wasn’t hiding I was tolding!

“In the corner behind the machine?” Hunter asked, his mouth twitching like he was trying not to sm

“I dropped something, I mumbled.

“What did you drop?” Ceasar wanted to know, twisting in Hunter’s arms to look at me.

The sock felt like it was burning a hole in my pocket. “Nothing important.”

Hunter set Ceasar down gently, but his eyes never left my face. “Are you alright? You look…”

“Mortified?” I suggested.

“I was going to say pink, but mortified works too.”

Ceasar, unaware of the anxiety crackling between us, had discovered the basket of clean laundry and was now Y onto the floor.

iping” by pulling everything cos

“Ceasar, no!” I lunged forward, but it was too late. Hunter’s expensive shirts are scattered across the laundry room like fatten leaves

“I’m helping!” Ceasar declared, grabbing a shirt and attempting to fold it. The result looked like a fabric disaster.

Hunter watched this unfold with the expression of a man witnessing a small, adorable hurricane. “He’s… energetic.”

“He’s three,” I said apologetically, kneeling to gather the scattered clothes. “Ceasar, sweetheart, these need to stay folded.”

“But I’m making them pretty!” He held up another shirt, now thoroughly wrinkled from his “folding” attempts.

Hunter surprised me by kneeling beside us. “Here, let me show you something”

I watched in amazement as he took the shirt from Ceasar’s hands and began demonstrating how to fold it properly, his movements slow and exaggerated so the little boy could follow along.

“See? Bottom to middle, then sides in, then top to bottom,” Hunter explained with the same patience he probably used in board meetings.

Ceasar watched with wide eyes, completely fascinated. “You’re good at this!”

“I had to learn when I was about your age,” Hunter said. “My father thought it was important to know how to take care of my things.”

“Can I try?” Ceasar asked eagerly.

Hunter handed him another shirt. “Go ahead.”

What followed was the most adorable disaster I had ever witnessed. Ceasar’s attempts at folding resulted in something that looked more like modern art than clothing, but Hunter praised every crumpled effort like it was perfect.

“Excellent work,” he said seriously, examining Ceasar’s latest creation. “Though I think this one might be inside–out.”

“Inside–out is good!” Ceasar declared. “Look, the buttons are hiding!”

I couldn’t help but laugh, “Ceasar, that’s not how clothes work.”

“But it’s more ton this way!” He held up the shirt proudly. “Right, Mr. Hunter2

Hunter

e mangled garment with mock thinking. “You know what? You might be onto something. Maybe inside out is the new fashion trend

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“Really?” Ceasar’s eyes lit up.

“Really,” Hunter confirmed with complete sincerity.

Watching them together made my chest tight with an emotion I didn’t want to name Hunter was so good with Ceasar, so natural. And the way my son looked at him, with such open adoration…

The sock in my pocket felt heavier with each passing moment.

“Mr. Hunter,” Ceasar said suddenly, “do you have little boy clothes too?”

Hunter blinked. “Little boy clothes?”

“Yeah! Like mine!” Ceasar gestured to his tiny t–shirt and shorts.

“No, buddy,” Hunter said gently. “I’m too big for little boy clothes now.”

“But you were little once, right?”

“A long time ago, yes.”

Ceasar studied him thoughtfully. “Do you remember being little?”

“Some things,” Hunter said. “I remember learning to tie my shoes. And riding my first bike.”

“I can’t tie my shoes yet,” Ceasar confessed. “But Mommy says I will soon.”

“I’m sure you will. You’re a smart kid.”

The praise made Ceasar beam. He grabbed another shirt from the basket and attacked it with restored folding readiness.

I used the distraction to steal a moment to look at Hunter. He was sitting cross–legged on the laundry room floor, his expensive shirt probably getting wrinkled, teaching my son to fold clothes with the patience of a saint.

This was not the cold, ruthless businessman I had first met. This was someone else entirely. Someone warm and gentle and impossibly attractive.

“Mommy, look!” Ceasar held up his latest folding attempt. “I made it flat!”

“Very good, sweetheart,” I managed, though my voice sounded strange to my ears.

Hunter glanced at me, and something in his expression shifted. The playful lightness dimmed, replaced by something more intense.

“Celine,” he said quietly.

“Yes?”

“Is everything alright? You seem…”

“Overwhelmed,” I finished honestly.

“By the laundry?”

“By everything.” The words slipped out before I could stop them.

We stared at each other in silence while Ceasar continued his clothing massacre, humming tunelessly to himself,

“I should let get back to work,” Hunter said finally, starting to stand.

“Wait. 1

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inosaur sock from my pocket, holding it up like evidence of a crime. “This is yours.”

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Chapter 82

Hunter stared at the tiny sock, confusion clear on his face. “I’m pretty sure that’s not my size.”

“It got mixed in with your laundry.” I explained, my cheeks burning again. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know how it happened, but five been accidental washing Ceasar’s things with yours all week.”

For a moment, Hunter just looked at the sock. Then, slowly, that dangerous smile spread across his face.

“So that’s why my underwear has been smelling like baby shampoo.” I wanted to die. Right there, on the laundry room floor. Just cease to exist

“I’m so sorry,” I repeated. “I’ll be more careful about sorting…”

“Celine,” Hunter interrupted, his voice warm with suppressed laughter. “It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine! It’s unprofessional and embarrassing and…”

“It’s sweet,” he said quietly.

I blinked. “Sweet?”

“Yeah.” He took the sock from my hands, his fingers brushing mine in the process. “Sweet.”

The touch sent electricity shooting up my arm, and I had to resist the urge to snatch my hand back.

“Look, Mommy!” Ceasar appeared at my elbow, holding up what might have once been a dress shirt. “I folded it good!”

Hunter and I both looked at the destroyed garment.

“That’s…” I began.

“Perfect,” Hunter finished firmly. “Absolutely perfect.”

Ceasar giggled with delight and threw his arms around Hunter’s neck in a spontaneous hug.

“You’re the best folder teacher ever!”

Hunter’s arms came up automatically to hug him back, and the expression on his face made my throat tight.

“Thanks, buddy,” he said softly. “You’re a pretty good student.”

When Ceasar pulled back, he was grinning so wide I thought his face might split. “Can we fold more tomorrow?”

“We’ll see,” Hunter said, glancing at me. “If your mom doesn’t mind.”

“Please, Mommy? Please?”

I looked between my son’s eager face and Hunter’s carefully neutral expression, and I knew I was in trouble.

Deep, deep trouble.

“We’ll see,” I echoed weakly.

Ceasar cheered as I’d just promised him Christmas morning.

As Hunter stond to leave, he paused in the doorway, the dinosaur sock still in his hand.

“Celine?”

“Yes?”

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Chapter 82

“For what it’s worth,” he said with that devastating smile, “I think I prefer the baby shampoo.”

And then he was gone, leaving me alone with my giggling son and the complete wreckage of what had once been perfectly folded laundry.

I sank onto the floor, my heart racing and my mind spinning.

I was in so much trouble.

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