Love Is In the Air Volume 1

by Susan Stoker

  “You know,” I tell him, “you and I have a history of weathering storms together. We got this.”

  7

  One Year Later

  “Do I look okay?” he asks, coming out of the bathroom in our penthouse, tying a midnight-blue tie that matches his eyes. I picked it out. Butterflies float around my stomach with one look at him, just as they always do, even after all this time.

  “Hot as hell,” I tell him with a little butt squeeze as I reach up to straighten his tie. He bends down to kiss me, his tongue slipping between my lips and making me jump.

  “Hey!” I say, reaching around to spank his ass. “Don’t start what you can’t finish, Mr. Brewer.”

  He smiles as he pulls me back, kissing me again.

  “Oh, I’ll be back to finish you soon enough, Mrs. Brewer,” he says. I stick out a hip and give him a look.

  “Don’t call me that,” I tell him. “You are not my husband. You’re not even my fiancé.”

  He smirks again.

  “Technicality,” he says as he pulls on his suit jacket. “But one day, Stanton, I’m gonna marry you.”

  “We’ll see,” I say with a sly smile, knowing damn well he’s right. “Now, go get ‘em. I’ll see you there.”

  He kisses me one more time before he walks out the door, leaving me to get ready at my oversized vanity in our oversized bathroom in our oversized apartment.

  Rule number one when dating a bazillionaire: everything is oversized. I smile as I look in the mirror. Today is a big day.

  After a full year of planning, funding, and more planning, it’s coming true. Brew’s vision. His brilliant fucking vision.

  When his dad died, he and his siblings all reached an agreement. They would all stay on either as employees or board members for Brewer Tech. But Cole was finally going to take some time, and some of his extra-large trust fund, for himself.

  Brewer Medical.

  He didn’t go back to med school, but I watched as his dreams changed a little bit. He realized that, with his father’s company and the assets he had because of it, he could still help people. And he wanted to start right here in Baltimore, the city that I loved so much.

  He opened clinics across the city, offering medical services for free to the uninsured. Offering vaccinations and check-ups for kids like my students. So they can worry about things kids are supposed to worry about, like which character they want to be in Fortnite, or where they left their bike. Not whether or not their family can afford their prescriptions.

  And when he presented it to me, he asked me to come on board as the head of community relations. I’m still teaching, but this has my heart, too.

  And after he rolls it out in Baltimore, he has plans to roll it out across the country. And I can hardly wait to watch him change lives. Save lives. Just like he saved mine.

  It’s going to be busy. It’s going to be exhausting. It’s going to be beautiful.

  And when things get crazy, when we need some quiet, we will pack our things and make the drive up to Meade Lake. We will take Brew’s truck, and we’ll drive through the winding, wooded roads to the cabin. We’ll spend most of the weekend naked, eating beef stew, and lying on the wood floors, wrapped up in each other.

  The Fling

  J. Kenner

  1

  “Out all night? And drunk on top of that. For pity’s sake, Leopold, what is going on with you? I thought you were there to study physics, not mixology.”

  Prince Stephan Leopold of Avelle-am-see, Duke of Flusgerbein, and heir to the throne, pressed his hands to his head as he sat up, groaning as the pounding headache rolled through him. He glanced at the clock and groaned again, regretting that he’d punched the speaker button and answered the phone. “Christ, Gisele, it’s not even six here. And the last time I checked, I’m twenty-one.”

  “Quatersh!” His sister spat out the word in their native Avellian tongue, a derivation of German and Danish that was as old as their tiny European country.

  “It’s not nonsense,” Leopold protested, speaking in Avellian. “I’m legal here now. I went out to celebrate with some friends at a local bar we like. It’s not like I’m prancing around Austin with a stein of beer in my hand.”

  “That isn’t the point,” Gisele said.

  “And how the hell did you know, anyway? I—” He cut himself off. He’d turned off location services on his phone when he’d gone out with Mark and Clint last night. Something he really didn’t need Gisele to realize. But if she couldn’t track him on his phone, then how had she—?

  “Jürgen.” Leopold snapped out the name of his personal bodyguard, the man who headed the small security detail that had come with him from Avelle-am-see to the University of Texas. “I swear, I’m docking that man’s pay.”

  “Then it’s fortunate that you’re not the Chancellor of the Exchequer,” Gisele said. “And this isn’t the point. Do you really think that Father will let you stay in Texas if he learns of this behavior? He only agreed to let you go in the first place because of the opportunity to study under Professor Malkin. He knows how much it means to you.”

  Leopold snorted.

  “Don’t be like that, little brother. He conceded a lot by letting you go. He recognizes that the sciences are important to the realm, and that your reign will truly impact the direction our country goes.”

  She was right, of course. Increasing the scientific relevancy of their country had been one of Leopold’s pet projects since he was twelve and had accompanied his father on a diplomatic trip to the CERN Supercollider in neighboring Switzerland. The world was changing so fast, and he wanted his country to move purposefully into the future while maintaining the traditions of the past that kept their homeland so beautiful and charming.

  What he didn’t want was the throne.

  Leopold knew that he could rule. His entire childhood had been a virtual schoolroom on diplomacy and how to lead a country. But it didn’t come naturally. Not the way physics and chemistry did. Not the way leadership came to Gisele, who would be a brilliant and beloved queen. She might be a pain in his ass, but the truth was his sister was remarkable.

  But she was born a woman, and though she was the firstborn and three years his senior, the country’s ancient rule of agnatic primogeniture had been included in their constitution when it was adopted over a century ago.

  Leopold would be king, whether he wanted to or not. His dreams of working in the sciences—of transforming the country into a haven for scientific research and technical advancement—would be something he oversaw, not something he directly participated in.

  It wasn’t fair, but very little about the life of a royal was. The world saw fame and privilege and servants and castles. All that was true, of course, but what most of the world didn’t see was the path. A golden road illuminated by intrusive spotlights and lined with chains, from which he was not allowed to stray.

  And yet King Wilhelm allowed him this small bit of freedom.

  He sighed, feeling like a dick. Gisele was right. Their father understood the pressures and sacrifices of being a royal. And while Father fully intended to prepare the prince to rule the country one day, he also saw Leopold as a man, not just a royal. And because of that, he’d not only forgiven Leopold’s rebellious teenage years, he’d consented to letting Leopold study in Texas even though Leopold hadn’t asked permission to apply for the research assistant position with renowned quantum physicist Jeffrey Malkin.

  “Do you have any idea how difficult it will be to keep you out of the spotlight?” his father had asked when the professor had accepted Leopold even though he was an undergrad. “The States are riddled with celebrity chasers. Or how infuriated I am that you applied without first discussing this with me?”

  Leopold knew the answer to both those questions, and yet he’d stood tall with his shoulders back and looked his father in the eye. “I can stay out of the public eye. And you and I both know that I will never again have a chance like this. I can’t both rule and
pursue a career in physics.”

  “Then why go?”

  “Because I would like at least a taste of my dream before I abandon it for my duty.”

  He’d seen something flicker in his father’s eyes when he’d said that. At first, he thought it was anger. But later, when his father had come to Leopold’s wing late that night, he’d realized that the emotion had been empathy. For the first time, he wondered what his father—also the second child, but oldest son—had given up.

  “You can go,” his father said. “I will speak to Professor Malkin personally so that he understands the risks.”

  “Risks?”

  “If your identity comes to light, it will reflect on his department. That may be a burden he does not wish to bear.”

  Leopold had been a wreck as he waited for the professor’s response, and had only drawn a clear breath after the scientist had insisted that Leopold was the assistant he wanted, and that he was only interested in Leopold’s scientific and intuitive understanding of physics. His lineage—and any spotlight that might shine on him—was of no interest to Malkin whatsoever.

  Leopold had wanted to bend the knee and kiss the professor’s ring. But he’d managed to fight back the urge.

  “I presume that your behavior will calm down if you are in school?” his father had said after delivering the good news.

  Leopold had assured his father he would behave, but he’d also felt a wave of shame cut through him. He’d spent much of his teen years rebelling. Against the crown. Against his path. Against the world in general. Not atypical for a teenager, but as the heir to the throne, his growing pains were quite public. Especially since he’d occasionally evade his security detail to sneak off the castle grounds and visit a nearby tavern.

  And he deeply regretted the one time he’d gotten drunk, shared his identity, and admitted to a small group of enraptured hangers-on that he didn’t want to be king. That might be true, but it diminished the crown, and he knew it. Not to mention the safety risks. The odds that an assassin was waiting around were slim, but stranger things had happened.

  Mostly though, he regretted it because of the disappointment he’d seen in his father’s eyes when Jürgen had found and dragged him back to the castle. His only saving grace was that, at nineteen, he’d been of legal drinking age in his country. So while his father could berate him for doing something foolish, at least he hadn’t done something illegal.

  Still, he knew that he’d lost a bit of his father’s trust that night, and so it had truly moved him when the King had agreed to allow his heir to have this small bite of the life he wanted before he was forced back into the life he had.

  “Meen brudear! Hello? Leopold, did you fall asleep on me?” Though his given—and public—name was Stephan, he went by his middle name with family. And it was the name he used in Texas, too.

  “I’m here.” He scrubbed his hands over his face. “Are we done with the lecture, or do I need to continue to gird my loins.”

  “Ass,” she said, making him grin.

  “As in pain in my? Yeah, well, right back at you.”

  “I just don’t want to see headlines about how the bad boy prince has moved his act to the States.”

  “I wasn’t that bad.”

  “No, you were young and stupid. The problem is that you’re still young and stupid. Book smart, maybe. Science smart, definitely. But you’re my little brother, and I’m telling it like it is.”

  He stayed silent. It wasn’t as if he had room to disagree.

  After a moment, Gisele sighed. “At least do something civic-minded while you’re there. If you are caught drinking or—God forbid—in some compromising position with some girl, we can counter the flurry of the bad boy’s back headlines with something uplifting.”

  “Already covered,” he said. Because even though he didn’t like the way the world worked, he did know how it worked. “Mark and Clint and I signed up for Walk Together.”

  “That means nothing to me.”

  “It’s a program through the student government. We volunteer to walk people home if they’re afraid they’re not going to get home safely.”

  He could practically hear her debating if that was good enough. Finally, she said, “Well, that puts you in a bit in the public eye, but it does seem like a good cause.”

  “It is,” he said firmly. “And a few local celebrities do it, too. Like from Hollywood but they live here. For the most part, nobody makes a thing of it. The town’s pretty chill.”

  “In my experience, very few people are chill when they unexpectedly bump into a future king. Even of a country as small as ours.”

  He couldn’t argue with that, so he didn’t.

  “Shouldn’t you use that time to study?”

  “You just said I needed to spend time being civically responsible,” he reminded her. “And I am studying. I spent all of yesterday in the lab working with the professor, then going over my own classwork.”

  “Until you went out drinking.”

  “Come on, Gisele. It was my birthday…”

  “I’m just saying that your grades in your science classes are fine. But you’re barely pulling a C in your English class. Why on earth did you take creative writing?”

  “It sounded interesting,” he lied. The truth was he’d been working on a fascinating equation and waited too long to register. It was the only thing open.

  “Yes, but a C? Father will bring you back if you don’t get that grade up.”

  “It’s fiction. Why would he care?”

  He could practically hear her smirk. “Because that is who our father is, and you know it. Just work on it, okay.”

  “Fine. Fine.” He had a short story due soon for the final. Maybe some ancient god of literature would smile on him and he could write something other than dreck. “I’ll go to one of the help sessions at the library. See if I can find someone who can fire my imagination.”

  “Just focus. Not everything has to be about quarks and who-sits.”

  Despite himself, he grinned. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  “I love you, Idiot Prince.”

  “Love you back, Annoying Princess.”

  “I miss you,” she said, and he heard the truth in her voice. “Are you sure you don’t want to come home?”

  “I miss you, too. But I love the work I’m doing. My time in the lab with Malkin is—I don’t know—transcendent. I don’t want—”

  “I know you don’t. But I thought you were a Rolling Stones fan.”

  “You can’t get always get what you want,” he said with a chuckle. “Yeah. So I’ve been told.” He stood and stretched. “Honestly, sometimes I wonder if I shouldn’t just chuck it all and move here. Others have.”

  Even saying the words were like a punch in the gut. On the one hand, the idea of living his life in the lab doing amazing, groundbreaking work … hell, it made him giddy. On the other hand, he loved his family and his heritage.

  He just didn’t love his particular role.

  “Others?” Giselle chided. “Harry hardly counts. His situation is entirely different. And if you’re thinking back to Edward VIII, then keep in mind that you wouldn’t be helping me. I’m not entitled to sit the throne at all, which means that Heinrich would be our new king once father passes. Honestly, I can’t even imagine.”

  Neither could Leopold. Their first cousin was a pretentious git, as his British cousins—albeit several times removed—would say.

  “The drafters of our Constitution screwed up when they didn’t see you coming,” Leopold said. “Any woman, for that matter. Couldn’t they look at Marta and see what a leader they would have had in her?”

  Their ancestor, Queen Marta, had essentially run the country a century ago when her husband the king had fallen ill. And she’d done an incredible job. Despite that, the constitutional committee didn’t even consider that a woman could helm the realm.

  “It is what it is,” Gisele said, though Leopold knew she hated it. “And you walki
ng away would only make a bad situation worse.”

  “I didn’t ask to have the world on my shoulders.”

  “Stop being a baby.”

  “Dammit, Giselle, you know I—”

  “I know that you are a brilliant young man who is rebelling for the wrong reasons.”

  “The wrong reasons? What are the right ones, then? I don’t want this. I’m not a leader. I’m a scientist.”

  “You’re a prince. And one day, you’ll sit on the throne.”

  “I know,” he said with a sigh. “But it should be you.”

  “Asshole,” Leopold said, lightly punching Jürgen’s arm as he settled into the adjacent seat in the huge auditorium that held the mass of students taking The History of Europe from the 15th Century to the Present.

  Mark and Clint sat one row behind them and generally took copious notes. Jürgen and Leopold usually whispered or dozed. This course was Leopold’s gimme class. He’d been weaned on European history and was quite certain he could pass the final in his sleep.

  Jürgen was the same, though it didn’t matter, as he wasn’t actually enrolled. The university had allowed him special dispensation to shadow Leopold in the guise of a student. Though thirty-five and one of the most lethal security specialists in Europe, he looked a bit like Leonardo DiCaprio did in Titanic. In other words, barely old enough to attend college, much less to have already finished at Oxford and gone on to a Masters in International Affairs, all while working on his target practice and hand-to-hand skills.

  Even so, Jürgen was nowhere near as scary as Leopold’s father. Or his sister for that matter.

  “Why are you beating on George?” Mark asked, using the security operative’s not-very-imaginative alias.

  “He ratted us out to my sister.”

  “Sister?” Clint repeated. He leaned forward, pushing a lock of long, dusty blond hair off his forehead. “So what?”

  “She’s like a mom to me,” Leopold said, before George could reply, even though he knew that the security specialist wouldn’t say anything wrong. “My mom died when I was little, so…” He trailed off with a shrug.