by Piper Page
The Rainmaker
Cole
Piper Page
MRM Publishing
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
And now please enjoy a bonus novella—DANGER— for your reading pleasure
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Epilogue
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About the Author
Also by Piper Page
Copyright © 2017 by Piper Page
All rights reserved.
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* * *
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1
Cole
I shoved my hands into the pockets of my charcoal gray Saint Laurent hoody and watched my quick breaths fog out into the winter air in front of me. It was three in the morning, the witching hour. Some called this hour part of the night. I called it morning. It was the time when my magic happens. My father always said, “The early bird catches the worm.” And for me, my dawn started early.
They called me a Rainmaker, and I was always on edge to keep it that way. I made men money, more money than they could count. I stared out into the inky waters of the Bay. It was dark. An eerie, wintry dark, and the clouds had blanketed every single star in commission. I stuck a match and watched the glow of the orange flame break through and light up the space around me. I drew back through the filter on my cigarette until the end burned bright, and I tapped my finger impatiently.
I was at the loading dock, one of many in the area. I was securing a shipment that was going to net us so many millions in just one day that my brothers and I would see our great, great-grandchildren be born with not just silver spoons in their mouths but with goddamned servants to put them there. And tomorrow, I would do it all over again. I wouldn’t stop. Couldn’t stop, because I was a motherfucking Rainmaker, and this was what I did. It wasn’t greed. It was capitalism at its fucking finest. I wanted the biggest slice of the American fucking pie I could get.
Then I saw her. On the beach. Jogging.
* * *
Who the hell jogs at three in the morning?
* * *
I quickly rubbed out my cigarette with the sole of my Ferragamo loafers. A sudden cough made my presence known to the howling wind. I stifled it with the crook of my elbow. After all, I was to be seen, not heard. No one would have suspected this sleepy town of being America’s first booming southern city to be the new hub taking over the whole industry. But we did.
* * *
The beauty of a mastermind.
* * *
Oh, what the mind could achieve when a band of three stuck together. When you ran the largest cocaine ring in the South, you didn’t get there by loose planning; everything was meticulously measured down to absolute perfection, including timing.
Only certain practices could happen in the dark. Yet her light was like the sun. I saw it from that first glance. My darkness was exposed in that instant.
* * *
Sunny.
* * *
I knew that name would be trouble. With a name like that, you were just asking to ruffle delicacies never meant for corruption. But that was just the thing—I was a fucking animal, and when something smelled so damn sweet, one got seduced at the first scent, like a predator. Like a stray dog hungry for flesh, my adrenaline pumped, swelled throughout my blood vessels, saliva pooled at the tongue, canines clattered: food. Blood. Mine. Her.
She ran down the wrong beach strip at the wrong time.
Hello, Sunny. Welcome to the Von Larsen clan. You just became my girlfriend. You just don’t know it yet.
2
Sunny
Today had been odd all the way around. I couldn’t sleep, and maybe I was too trusting or maybe just naïve, but I figured if sleep wasn’t happening, I ought to be up and moving. I spent part of the night cleaning my small place, and then the sight of the waves rolling on the water made me long to be outside, even it was asscrack o’clock. So, on went the sneakers, up went the hair, and before I could talk myself out of it, I was off on a run.
* * *
Might as well get it out of the way early.
* * *
It was cool at first. The air turned my cheeks bright pink and chilled my lungs, but soon I was sweating, and my blood was pumping hot as I took deep breaths of Gulf air. Running on the sand was a challenge. I took it in stride, mostly to prove to my best friend Claire that I was not a creature of habit, that I could take on something new and succeed at it. This was an ongoing back-and-forth between us, which was why I chose to run the beach at this hour rather than my usual late-morning trail of sidewalks and roadways.
I made a point to stop and pull out my cellphone from the small nylon pocket sewn into the waist band of my running tights. I stuck out my tongue, framing the selfie with the night sky and water behind me. “Take that C.” I typed in a message, muttering, “Creature of habit my butt.”
I continued on my way, satisfied with myself and spurred on by gloating, even if it was a little sinful. I know, pride cometh before a fall, but Claire was not going to get the best of me this go ‘round. I made my way past the docks and down to where the houses started to thin out before turning around and running back. The sun wouldn’t be in for its shift until hours from now, and as much as my father would chastise me for running at such a very early hour, lecturing me on the dangers of street thugs and drug dealers, I didn’t see one person who looked menacing or lust-filled, as he would have put it. He couldn’t help it, though; he was a father with daughters as well as being a Galveston cop, and with me being the baby, I always seemed to get the brunt of his overprotection.
But even when the run was hours behind me, my day continued to be strange. Maybe Claire was right, maybe when I stepped out of my little comfort zoned box, I got nervous.
* * *
Duh, Sunny, it’s natural to feel that way.
* * *
So perhaps that was why my day seemed “off.” Maybe I was trying too much too soon. I mean, today was my only day off before I went back to work on a seven-day haul of nursing. I couldn’t expect myself to stray too far out of the norm in one day’s time. Sometimes order and regularity are needed to function, and there’s nothing wrong with that. Maintaining that very solid concept, I made my way over
to Miller’s Seawall Grill for a cuppa and a bite of breakfast.
My usual steamed chi tea cooled at the table while I picked at the pecans on top of the icing that glazed over my favorite cinnamon roll. A shadow passed between the morning sun and me.
“Is this seat open?”
My head snapped up, and my jaw dropped against my will at the sight of the stunning man who seemed to appear straight out of thin air. Who asks a complete stranger if a seat is open when the entire seating area on the patio is empty? Everyone was inside, out of the chill of the morning air. I stared, dumbfounded, before glancing around the patio nervously. Good god, was he looked incredible, like GQ model, grace-a-billboard-in-Time-Square gorgeous. What on Earth did he want with me?
I wasn’t able to produce any words from my slack jaw. He tilted his perfectly chiseled chin as his eyes danced over my body.
“I guess what I mean is, are you available? Let’s say, Friday night?”
I squinted at this perfect specimen of a man. He had to be taller than six foot. He had pretty-boy eyes set in the most radiant blue, and his dark hair only added to how bright they were. But boy, was he cocky. I needed to pull myself out of this stupor. “I work.” I quickly managed to mumble before reaching for my chai tea, even though it wasn’t cool enough yet. I needed the diversion. And fast.
“Then Saturday it is.”
* * *
Unbelievable. I chocked on that last sip and dabbed at the corners of my mouth with a napkin.
* * *
“I’m sorry do I know you?”
“I’m your Saturday night date, this Saturday, and I expect I will be for every Saturday afterwards.”
My eyes flutter in disbelief before I’m able to muster a reply. “O…kay then, Mr. Saturday Night, besides being an impressively confident stranger who has yet to properly introduce himself, just where are you taking me on this hypothetical date that will keep me in your arms for the rest of my Saturdays?”
* * *
I’ve finally managed to snap my wit out of shock. Oh, my goodness, what am I doing?
* * *
His smile shaped his strong, egotistical features into heart-melting, mind-altering gorgeousness that made my sweet breakfast seem like mud on my plate. “A place I know well, in Houston.”
I couldn’t hold back my laughter. “In Houston? Um, sorry. No thanks. I hate traffic. Nice try though.”
“Here, then. In Galveston. I know the best places in town.” Now my eyes danced down his pinstriped navy blue custom suit. Judging by the looks of him, I was sure he knew some pretty fancy places. Was he a lawyer or something? A businessman? Speaking of professions….
“And how do I know you aren’t a crazed ax murderer? Do you trap all your victims like this?” I knew I was smiling when I should have been calling for a waiter or 911.
He held my eyes and kept up his “sweep me off my feet” smile. “I can give you my word, I am not a crazed ax murderer.”
“Oh okay, so you’re an honest and forthcoming murderer who doesn’t use and ax. Why yes, I’ll drive an hour and half away from my home with you, Mr. Stranger.”
* * *
Why are you encouraging this, Sunny?
* * *
In my imagination, Claire’s face was in front of me, egging me on. “Go for it,” she whispered in my head. “You know you want to, Sunny. You’re twenty-three, not ninety.” If she were here, she would be kicking me under the table while telling this beautiful man that I couldn’t possibly go out with him because my scheduled bedtime was eight o’clock. She’d bat her eyes and say she, on the other hand, had no curfew. I clenched my fists. Claire was right—for Pete’s sake, I still insisted on reading an actual newspaper rather than subject myself to the tainted world of internet news. “Live a little,” her internal voice whispered.
“What time will I pick you up? Eight?”
“Um, I don’t even know who you are.” I laughed, bewildered, and I crossed my arms in front of my chest.
Mr. Handsome offered me his hand.
“I apologize. I am Cole, Cole von Larsen.”
I offered him my hand in return. His fingers were warm and soft, and they engulfed my whole hand, devouring it in his grip. I hoped he wouldn’t devour me.
* * *
Yes I do, my lust confessed.
* * *
What am I doing, what am I doing?
* * *
“Okay, Mr. von Larsen. I’m Sunny Banks.”
* * *
Here goes everything.
* * *
“I’m not in the habit of doing dates with strangers, but…” I took a deep breath. I couldn’t believe I was doing this. Did they put Bailey’s in my chai tea? Was it a full moon today? My 3am run? Everything in me screamed to go on a date with this stranger, but it was against my every normal fiber inside every neat box I had in my body.
“I’ll meet you here, in Galveston, on Saturday. We can have dinner at the Porch Café, eight o’clock. My family know where I am, and you will have me home by a decent hour. Can we agree on that?”
The amusement dancing in the sea blue of his eyes argued with my senses. I was angry with him for being so sure of himself and mocking me with his expression, but on the other hand, I was so intrigued by him I almost wanted to agree to Friday night as well. Who was this person, and why was this happening? Strange day indeed.
3
Sunny
A thousand butterflies danced in my stomach. I couldn’t believe I was actually doing this. It was 7:59pm. I should go. I should go.
Yes, I should go.
I stood up from the restaurant’s waiting room and proceeded out the door when lo and behold, a beautifully rich car pulled up to the valet.
It was Cole who climbed out of it.
Of course it was him.
“Hello, Sunny. And where are you off to?”
I bit my lower lip. God, he looks hot. As in melt my panties hot.
“I, uh, thought I left something in my car.”
“Oh, well do go check then,” he said with a wink at me. What a flirt. What a dashing flirt, no less. I nodded and spun around in my kitten heels to walk toward my car.
Way to go, Sunny. Now he knows what car you drive.
I rolled my eyes at my paranoid thoughts. Thanks Dad.
I fake-looked in my car, taking a minute to calm my nerves. I must have been lost in my thoughts, because a warm large cusp on my shoulder made me jump in fright. I screamed out and spun around, ready to lay one on the intruder. My purse dropped as Cole’s hands went in the air, and he had a giant smirk on his face.
“Ah, sorry to frighten you, doll. I was just coming to escort you back.”
Play it cool, Sunny.
“Shall we?” He looped my arm in his stronger one, and I could feel the heat of his skin against my body. His rich scent was intoxicating to my senses, and I couldn’t believe this was actually happening tonight, it all came so fast. I felt like I was in some sort of dream, or an out-of-body experience. I was snapped back into the present when he opened his car door for me. Dozens of pink roses lay against the leather, beautifully wrapped in ivory paper.
“I…I thought we were eating here?” The gravel shifted under my heel as I spun around to look at the restaurant. As I glanced back to Cole, I caught his eyes on my backside, and I blushed.
“I told you, I know the best places. I’d love to take you out to a proper place for a woman as beautiful as you. No offense, Sunny, but they don’t even have a real chef at this place. I hope you’re hungry, because I promise, where I’m taking you, it’ll be worth it. Your taste buds will never be the same.”
Okay, either a snob or a total foodie. But my hungry stomach rumbled, reminding me it needed to eat. So all I could do was nod and agree.
“I’ll have you back to your car at a proper hour, I can assure you. These are for you.”
I watched this perfect stranger walk around the shiny car to the driver’s seat as I held my breath
again. He was officially the most classy, put-together man I’d ever been around. He was like something right out of the movies.
Breathe, Sunny! I picked up the bouquet and breathed in the scent of the sweet nectar. “Thank you so much, Cole. You shouldn’t have.”
“Of course I should’ve.”
“So, um. What kind of car is this?”
Cole’s blue eyes twinkled. I could see the pride he held in the sparkle of them as we pulled out and started driving up the coastline. “It’s a Bentley Mulsanne.”
I nodded like I totally knew what that was. Truly, I had no clue, but even if I wasn’t a motor head, I knew this car was both sophisticated and expensive. It matched my date perfectly. Cole Von Larsen was a man of means, and I highly doubted he had ever heard the word “no.” Well, he had also never dealt with Sunny Banks before. Money is nice, but there’s more to being happy than the almighty dollar.
* * *
I can say no to you, Cole. You can bet your ass I can say no.
* * *
I studied his form as he drove, watching his arm flex as he shifted the gears. I wondered if it was standard for a car like this, which seemed more for the elite to be chauffeured about in. Was it normally equipped with a standard gearshift? Somehow, I doubted it. Cole seemed like the kind of guy who’d have had this car outfitted to his liking. He drove it without the slightest hesitation. It did not jerk or sputter. It was smooth, just like its handler. I could very well be in trouble here. The sooner we get to the restaurant the better. The stubble on his face was sexy enough to make me have second thoughts about certain values in my life.