She Falls Asleep on the Billionaire CEO’s Arms, and Wakes Up With Him Calling Her Baby “Ours”

An Unexpected Flight

Grace Mitchell clutched her boarding pass, anxiety rising as she shuffled through the crowded first-class cabin. At five months pregnant, her back ached from standing in the security line for over an hour.

This last-minute business trip to Chicago wasn’t ideal timing. As the lead architect on the Riverside Tower project, she couldn’t afford to miss the emergency meeting called by the developer.

“Excuse me,” she murmured, sliding past a flight attendant. Her gaze was fixed on seat 3A, a window seat.

Thank God. The gentle swell of her belly nudged against the seat in front as she maneuvered into her row.

Grace settled into the plush leather seat with a relieved sigh, resting one hand protectively over her stomach. She’d barely fastened her seat belt when a tall figure stopped beside her row.

Grace looked up and froze. Standing there, impeccably dressed in a charcoal suit that probably cost more than her monthly rent, was Jackson Reed.

He was the billionaire CEO of Reed Enterprises. Unfortunately, he was also the owner of the development company she was flying to meet.

“Miss Mitchell,” he said, recognition flickering in his steel-blue eyes. “What a coincidence.”

Grace managed a polite smile. “Mr. Reed, I didn’t realize you’d be on this flight.”

“Last-minute decision.” He settled into the seat beside her.

His broad shoulders took up more than his fair share of space. The subtle scent of his cologne, sandalwood and something citrusy, filled the air between them.

Jackson Reed was a legend in the real estate world. He was brilliant, ruthless, and notoriously demanding.

At thirty-six, he’d transformed his father’s modest construction company into a billion-dollar empire. He was also, Grace reluctantly admitted to herself, unfairly handsome.

He had dark hair touched by silver at the temples and a jawline that could cut glass. “How far along are you?” he asked, nodding toward her bump.

“Five months,” Grace replied, surprised by the personal question. “My sister just had her second.”

“A boy.” A small smile softened his usually stern expression.

“I’m hoping to make it to Chicago and back before my nephew’s christening this weekend.” The unexpected glimpse of his personal life caught Grace off-guard.

In the three business meetings they’d had previously, Jackson had been all sharp edges. He had only asked critical questions about her architectural designs.

“I didn’t know you had a sister,” she said. “I have two, both younger.”

He loosened his tie slightly. “Are you hoping for a boy or girl?”

Grace hesitated. She rarely discussed her pregnancy with anyone besides her closest friends.

After her ex-boyfriend, Tyler, had walked out four months ago, she’d become protective of her privacy. He had claimed he wasn’t ready for fatherhood.

“I don’t know yet,” she admitted. “I wanted to be surprised.”

The plane began taxiing, and Grace gripped the armrests. Flying had always made her nervous.

Pregnancy hormones only amplified her anxiety. “Not a fan of takeoffs?” Jackson asked, noticing her white knuckles.

“Not particularly,” she said, forcing a smile. “I’ll be fine once we’re in the air.”

The plane accelerated, pressing them back into their seats. Grace closed her eyes, focusing on her breathing.

Unexpectedly, she felt a warm hand cover hers on the armrest. “My mother was terrified of flying,” Jackson said conversationally.

He acted as if he wasn’t currently holding her hand. “She always said counting backward from 100 helped.”

Grace opened one eye to look at him. “Did it?”

“No idea. I just let her crush my hand for 20 years.”

His smile was warm and genuine. It was nothing like the calculating businessman she’d encountered in conference rooms.

The plane leveled off, and Grace realized she was still clutching Jackson’s hand. She pulled away, embarrassed.

“Sorry about that.” “No apology necessary.”

He reached for his briefcase. “Since we have 3 hours, perhaps we could discuss the changes to the Riverside plans. Save some time tomorrow.”

Grace nodded, grateful for the shift to professional territory. “The revised structural supports you requested would require significant modifications to the atrium design.”

For the next hour, they poured over blueprints on Jackson’s tablet, heads bent close together. Grace was impressed by his technical knowledge.

Most developers she’d worked with left the architectural details to their teams. “Your solution for the cantilever issue is elegant,” he commented, zooming in on her design.

“I didn’t think we could maintain that sightline without additional columns.” “That’s why you hire architects,” Grace said with a smile.

She shifted in her seat, trying to find a comfortable position. Her lower back began to ache.

“Are you all right?” Jackson asked, concern evident in his voice. “Just pregnancy discomfort.”

“The joys of carrying around an extra person.” The flight attendant arrived with their meals.

Grace’s stomach growled at the sight of the roasted chicken and vegetables. She hadn’t had time for lunch before rushing to the airport.

As they ate, their conversation drifted from work to more personal topics. Jackson told her about growing up in Seattle with his sisters.

Grace shared stories about her childhood in rural Pennsylvania. She found herself laughing at his dry humor, surprised by how easily they conversed.

“My mom nearly fainted when I told her I was pregnant and single,” Grace admitted. This followed Jackson’s story about his mother’s reaction to his first tattoo.

“She’s traditional that way, but she’s come around now. She calls everyday with baby name suggestions.”

“And the father?” Jackson asked, then immediately backtracked. “I apologize; that’s not my business.”

“It’s okay,” Grace said, though the wound was still fresh. “He decided fatherhood wasn’t in his 5-year plan.”

“We’d only been dating 8 months when I got pregnant. It wasn’t planned.”

Jackson’s expression darkened. “That’s unforgivable.”

“It’s for the best,” Grace said firmly. “I’d rather raise my child alone than with someone who doesn’t want to be there.”

Their conversation was interrupted as the plane hit a patch of turbulence. The aircraft dropped suddenly.

Grace gasped, instinctively grabbing Jackson’s arm. “It’s just a little rough air,” he said calmly. “Perfectly normal.”

The turbulence intensified. The captain’s voice came over the intercom, instructing everyone to return to their seats and fasten their seat belts.

Grace’s heart pounded as the plane shuddered and dipped again. “Here,” Jackson said, lifting the armrest between them. “Come closer.”

Grace hesitated only briefly before sliding toward him. Jackson put his arm around her shoulders, steady and reassuring.

Despite her anxiety, she noticed how naturally she fit against him. She noticed how solid and warm he felt.

“Tell me about your favorite building,” he said, clearly trying to distract her. “Anywhere in the world.”

Grace closed her eyes, focusing on his question rather than the bouncing plane. “Fallingwater, Frank Lloyd Wright.”

“The way it integrates with the landscape, balanced over the waterfall. It’s perfect.”

“I’ve been there,” Jackson said. “It’s as impressive as you’d expect.”

“The cantilevers are revolutionary for their time.” “You know architecture,” Grace murmured, impressed despite herself.

“I studied engineering before business. Buildings fascinate me—how they stand, how they fall.”

The plane steadied, but Grace didn’t move away. Jackson’s shoulder was too comfortable, and his voice was too soothing.

He described a recent trip to Barcelona to see Gaudi’s work. The tension of the day, the rushed packing, and the stress of the airport began to fade.

Her eyelids grew heavy. “Sorry,” she mumbled, fighting to stay awake. “Pregnancy fatigue is real.”

“Rest,” Jackson said softly. “We still have an hour before landing.”

Grace meant to sit up to maintain some professional boundary with the man who was essentially her boss’s boss.

Instead, she was lulled by the hum of the engines and the steady rise and fall of Jackson’s chest. She drifted into sleep.

She dreamed of a house by a waterfall, with sunlight streaming through floor-to-ceiling windows. A child’s laughter echoed through bright, open rooms.

A deep voice called her name, filled with warmth that felt like home. When Grace stirred, the plane was descending.

Disoriented, she realized her head was nestled against Jackson’s shoulder. Her hand was resting on his chest.

Mortified, she started to pull away. “Easy,” Jackson murmured, his arm still around her.

His free hand reached across to rest gently on her belly. A look of wonder crossed his face.

“Was that the baby’s kicking?” Grace whispered, surprised.

She’d felt flutters before, but this was the first real definitive kick. Without thinking, she placed her hand over his.

She pressed slightly to guide him to the right spot. The baby kicked again, stronger this time.

Jackson’s expression transformed. A smile spread across his face unlike anything she’d seen from him before.

“That’s amazing,” he said softly, his eyes meeting hers with unexpected intensity.

To her complete shock, he leaned down and spoke directly to her bump. “Hello in there. You’ve got quite a kick.”

Grace’s heart fluttered at the tenderness in his voice. This was a side of Jackson Reed she never could have imagined—gentle, almost vulnerable.

The plane bumped slightly as the landing gear deployed, breaking the moment. Jackson looked up, still smiling, his hand lingering on her belly.

“Our little traveler seems ready for Chicago,” he said. Grace froze. “Our?”