Lucky 7 Brazen Bachelors Contemporary Romance Boxed Set

by Caridad Piñeiro

  Caleb looked like he was about to bolt. His eyes were shiny, his face tense, like he was fighting to hold it together. Terrified he’d be rejected.

  Trey let out a half-laugh-half-choke, happiness flooding through him.

  The next instant, they were in his arms, his son and the woman he loved, filling his soul with light and joy, and he was hugging them close and holding them tight.

  They cried. All three of them. And laughed, and cried, and laughed some more. And he didn’t let them go—not until the reality had well and truly sunk in, and he was certain this wasn’t all a dream that would disappear if he dared to open his eyes.

  And when they’d cried and laughed themselves out, and just stood there happily, taking each other in, he pressed a kiss to Lacy’s hair. “Thank you,” he said softly. “Thank you for the best gift a man could ever hope for.”

  Kiss of a Lifetime: Chapter Twenty

  The next morning, Trey woke to a feeling of total unreality.

  He’d spent the night at Lacy’s place—in the guest room, of course, in deference to his young son’s sensibilities—after taking them all out to Caleb’s favorite restaurant for a celebratory dinner, then sending the limo away to return in the morning.

  He’d answered question after question about himself—carefully sanitized—and managed to wedge in a few of his own. Caleb was a bright, curious, cheerful child…and clearly spoiled rotten. Lacy had done an amazing job with him.

  And to think this small, incredible human being was Trey’s own flesh and blood. And the mother? If she wasn’t the perfect woman, Trey didn’t know from perfect.

  He had never been so happy in his life. Not once. Not ever.

  Which explained the light, floaty feeling in his chest that none of this could possibly be real. That it couldn’t possibly last.

  Happiness never did.

  He shifted on the unfamiliar bed, adjusted the unfamiliar covers, and stared up at the unfamiliar ceiling. Testing the unfamiliar optimism in his heart.

  Could his luck finally be changing?

  Certainly, his life had turned a major corner last night.

  And he was kicking himself. He couldn’t believe he’d wasted all this time. Nine long years, believing things that weren’t true. Ignoring Lacy’s attempts to reach out. Being a total idiot. Nine years he could have been spending with her and his son. Loving her. Watching his child grow up.

  Being a family.

  A family…

  The idea was…overwhelming. But in a good way. A very good way.

  The question was, where did he go from here?

  He’d marry Lacy, of course. And move her and Caleb out to California. Never mind her job. She didn’t need to work anyway. He had plenty of money for all of them.

  He smiled up at the ceiling. Unbelievable. How could he get so incredibly lucky?

  It was about damn time something good happened in his personal life.

  But this…this had absolutely been worth waiting for.

  He rolled out of bed and grabbed a shower. It was a school day, so he wanted to make breakfast for everyone before the bus came to pick up Caleb. Trey had suggested he play hooky so they could all spend the day together, but Lacy had said there was a math test today, and she insisted he go to school.

  Ah, well. As anxious as Trey was, they could spend the weekend together. Hell, the rest of their lives together.

  For now…maybe pancakes?

  Trotting down the stairs to the kitchen, he pulled out his cell phone and called his secretary at home. It was still early, but he wanted to let her know he’d be staying on in Charleston for a few days. “Hey, Millie. Sorry to call so ear—”

  “Oh, Mr. Treynor, thank goodness! Why is your phone turned off? I’ve been trying to get hold of you.”

  Oops. “Why? What’s going on?”

  “I got a call from the Met at the crack of dawn,” she said. “The crates with the collection arrived, but apparently one of them is missing. Maybe the shipping label never got changed and it went to Charleston instead of New York?”

  At the reminder of the exhibit, Trey stopped dead on the stairs, his chest constricting.

  Oh, shit. He hadn’t talked to Lacy about withdrawing the collection. He needed to do that right away. The shipment had already been rerouted, so it wasn’t as if plans could be changed. Not that he’d want to. It was just…

  Damn.

  “Okay, I’ll see what I can find out,” he said.

  “No need,” Millie said. “I figured you must be on your way to the airport, so I gave them Miss Treadwell’s office number to contact her directly.”

  Double shit. “All right. Listen, I’ve decided to stay on here for a few days. Can you forward anything important to my cell?”

  “Sure. But…”

  All at once, his secretary’s voice receded into the background of the white noise that suddenly filled his brain.

  Forward any calls to my cell phone…

  Ah. Hell.

  He quickly hung up, and prayed he’d get to Lacy first.

  The moment he stepped into the kitchen, he knew it was too late. The expression on her face when she looked up at him from her place at the table could have rivaled the Arctic winds.

  “Hi.” He glanced around to make sure Caleb hadn’t come downstairs yet. Thankfully, they were alone.

  “You’re still here?” she asked Trey stonily. “I’m surprised you didn’t bail on your son, too.”

  His chest felt like an elephant had stepped on it. “Don’t be ridiculous. Lacy, please let me explain.”

  “I’d like you to leave. Now.”

  He frowned at her. There wasn’t a chance in hell of that happening. “No way,” he said. “We have too much to talk about. And I want to spend a few days with you and my son while we decide…” He pressed his lips together. Shit. Now would not be a very good moment to allude to marriage. Let alone ask her. He might be an idiot, but he wasn’t stupid.

  “There’s nothing to decide,” she said, an edge of anger slicing through her chilly façade. “You chose to ignore me for nine years, and if yesterday’s little show didn’t lose me my job, today you’ve taken it away for sure, and my future with it. If you think I’ll let a man who could do those things into my son’s life, you’re completely delusional.”

  Her declaration felt like a dagger to his heart. “That’s not fair. I didn’t know you were in charge of the exhibit. Hell, I didn’t even know you live in Charleston.”

  “You didn’t want to know,” she spat out, her anger surging to life.

  He clamped his jaw. They’d talked about this yesterday, and he’d thought they were good. “I believed I was doing us both a favor,” he reiterated. “I know how powerful families operate. I didn’t have a prayer of being with you even if you wanted me.”

  “Yeah. Except none of that was true, was it? And you never bothered to find out what was true.”

  Guilt broke over him like an avalanche. She was right. It would not have been too difficult for him to track her down and check. Just in case. Instead, he’d spent years feeling sorry for himself. Playing the martyr. Drowning his feelings in work, and once a year in a bottle.

  “Yeah,” he said quietly. “And I’ll spend the rest of my life regretting that mistake. More than you’ll ever know. So, please. Let me make up for it now.”

  For a brief moment, he actually thought she might break down.

  But in the end, she just squared her shoulders and shook her head. “I’ve had enough betrayals and empty promises to fill two lifetimes, and I’ll be damned if I’ll set myself up for more. I’ve gotten this far and achieved my successes all on my own. I don’t need your help, or anyone else’s. And neither does Caleb.”

  He gazed at her, his heart sinking to his stomach like a rusty anchor—obsolete and cast aside. If he screwed up now, he’d lose her for good.

  He grabbed the back of a kitchen chair to steady himself. And to keep himself from lunging at her and pulling her i
nto his arms, pinioning her against his chest and holding on tight, not letting her go until she agreed to let him into her life. Forever.

  “I can’t even imagine what you’ve been through,” he said somberly. “And God knows, I’d be more than happy to help you and Caleb however I can.”

  She opened her mouth to argue, and he held up a hand to stop her.

  He took a deep breath, and stepped off the cliff. “But Lacy, it’s not help I’m offering you.”

  Kiss of a Lifetime: Chapter Twenty-One

  Lacy couldn’t begin to decipher the expression on Trey’s face as he looked at her. It lay somewhere in the no-man’s land between desperation, earnestness, and stone cold determination.

  If not help, she was terrified to ask what he was offering.

  Did she even want to know?

  She shook her head. “No.”

  She’d had far too many crushed hopes in her life ever to trust that fragile emotion again. And this man had done nothing but crush her hopes from the day she’d met him until this very moment.

  Okay, okay. He’d done some good things, too. That first day, for instance. It had been pretty spectacular. And he’d given her Caleb. She wouldn’t trade her baby for anything in the world. Not for ten jobs or ten million dollars.

  Trey took a step toward her. “Lacy, please. Hear me out.”

  She banded her arms across her midriff. “Not interested.” Inexplicably, her eyes filled with tears.

  All right, fine. So maybe a small part of her—a very small part—had still harbored hope. Even after so many years of bitter disappointment. After so many years of desperately needing him to be there for her and his son. Years of being so thoroughly and crushingly snubbed. And after yesterday, when it had become so painfully clear that he hadn’t sought her out, that their meeting had been a total accident. Even after all of that, a hidden, lonely part of her had still held a tiny spark of hope.

  Because…because of what had happened next.

  Because of his logical—if misguided—reason for not answering her ad. Because of his utterly right reaction to learning about his son for the first time. Because of his glow of complete happiness as they’d gotten to know one another at dinner last evening.

  And because of the unbidden, foolish dreams she’d dreamed all night, of him sweeping her off her feet, of him wanting the three of them to be together as badly as she did, of the two of them making love every night for the rest of their lives as they’d done yesterday…and nine years ago.

  But all of that hope had died when she’d gotten the call from the Metropolitan Museum in New York, informing her that he’d cancelled his Charleston exhibit. And along with it, ruined her career.

  Maybe he hadn’t lied to her outright, but he sure as hell had lied by omission.

  A man who would break his word like that, and mislead a person without a second thought, he couldn’t be trusted.

  And she sure as hell shouldn’t be harboring naïve, girlish hopes about him.

  “I’m sorry, Trey,” she said decisively. “This isn’t going to work between us.”

  The desperation in his expression deepened. “Why? Just because of the exhibit? I’m sorry I didn’t tell you right away. I meant to, but we kind of got…distracted.”

  She fought the heat that filled her face. Okay. Maybe he could get a pass on that. “The timing isn’t the point,” she said. “Your decisions make it obvious you value business and your bottom line over honoring your commitments.”

  He stiffened, looking genuinely affronted. “That’s not true! You, of all people, should know an offer from the Met is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. I’m not doing this only for me, but also for sake of the artists whose work will be displayed. This kind of exposure will literally change lives.”

  She refused to be swayed. He sounded so reasonable and sincere, but his actions spoke louder than his pretty excuses. He’d broken his word.

  “That’s all well and good,” she said, “but I don’t want a man in my life—in Caleb’s life—who won’t follow through on his promises, but simply bails when there’s a better offer.”

  His look of indignation morphed to wounded. “I didn’t bail. I flew all the way across the country to find a way to compensate the Institute for withdrawing my collection.”

  “Again, you’re missing the point,” she countered hotly.

  They stared at each other for a long moment, neither giving in.

  Then, he said, “No, I think you are. You’d really give up the chance to be a family, to let Caleb know his father, because of a purely-business decision that was made before I even knew who you were? Or that Caleb existed? Can’t you see how unfair that is? To us? To your son?”

  The accusation hit home painfully. “You’re twisting things around!” she protested, even as her mind dizzied at the revelation that he wanted a chance for them to be a family. “You are not the wronged party here!”

  “No?” His eyes narrowed, and once again, determination filled them. A muscle in his cheek twitched. “Okay, fine.” He pulled his cell phone from his pocket, and didn’t take his eyes off her as he dialed and asked for a name she didn’t recognize.

  She pressed her lips together. Now what?

  After a polite but businesslike exchange of greetings with whomever was on the other end, he said, “I’m really sorry, but I’m afraid something unexpected has come up, and I’m going to have to pull my collection from the Met’s exhibit this month, after all.”

  She startled in surprise.

  Wait. What?

  A frown dipped her brow. He was cancelling the Met exhibit?

  “Yes,” he said into the phone. “I know it’s last minute, but it really is unavoidable. I’d appreciate if you wouldn’t unpack the boxes that arrived today. I’ll send a truck to pick them up as soon as I can arrange it.”

  Her jaw dropped. Was he kidding?

  “Yeah,” he went on, “it really was an incredible opportunity, and I thank you so much for your generosity. But my circumstances have changed rather suddenly”—his gaze drilled into hers—“and I’ve decided to close the exhibit altogether. I’ll be donating the entire collection to the Charleston Institute of Art.”

  Lacy stared at him incredulously. Donate the collection? Why on earth would he do that? Was this some kind of ploy? She tried to wrap her mind around what she was hearing.

  After a few more exchanges, he hung up and slid his phone back in his pocket. “All right. That’s taken care of. Now, can we talk?”

  He was actually serious. She couldn’t believe what he was doing. “Are you crazy?”

  His eyes flashed. “I thought that was what you wanted—the exhibit to stay here in Charleston. Well, now it will. Permanently. Does that prove my commitment clearly enough?”

  She just gaped. It wasn’t as though she objected. Far from it. A donation like that would surely seal her appointment. But such a drastic turnaround on his part…

  She was so confused.

  And, suddenly, a bit ashamed. This was a sacrifice he’d definitely regret in the morning, and she’d as good as blackmailed him into making it—unintentionally, to be sure, but the result was the same.

  Not a great way to start a relationship.

  If that’s what they were doing…

  “Trey, this is nuts. The Institute couldn’t possibly accept a donation under these circumstances. Call the Met back. Tell them you made a mistake.”

  “No.” He inhaled, then let it out slowly, raising a hand to stop her when she would have argued. “You were right. I did let business interests take precedence over a commitment I’d made.” His eyes softened. “I told you once a long time ago that I always keep my word, and my whole life I’ve prided myself on doing just that.”

  A vivid memory swept through her whole body of lying hidden in that closet, terrified and shaking so badly she’d been certain the soldiers outside could hear her bones rattling. Of being wrapped in the powerful, comforting arms of a stranger whose
whispered promise was the only thing that had kept her from breaking down altogether.

  Sweetheart, you’ve got to trust me. I swear I’ll get us out of here.

  That, and the incredible hours that had followed…

  Please… I don’t want to die without knowing what it feels like to make love.

  She swallowed, and her vision melted into a watery blur. He’d kept his promises. On both counts. They hadn’t had sex that day, they’d truly made love. And then he’d risked his life taking her to safety through a city teeming with trigger-happy soldiers.

  What was she doing?

  She was living proof that Geoffrey Treynor was probably the most honorable and heroic man she’d ever met, a man who would have died to protect her. Commitment didn’t get much greater than that.

  Had she judged him unfairly?

  Was she making a huge mistake, throwing away what could be her one and only chance to let a truly good man into her life? Into her son’s life?

  Granted, she was terrified of being hurt again. And even more terrified of Caleb being hurt.

  But hurt worked both ways—from others’ actions, yes, but also from letting good things pass you by…out of fear.

  What should she do? Didn’t she owe herself a chance at real happiness? She didn’t want to wake up tomorrow and feel like shooting herself for being the stupidest woman on the planet.

  Oh, my God, she was so out of her depth here.

  He must have seen the change in her face, or in her eyes. He didn’t say a word, he just opened his arms to her.

  That was all it took.

  She made her choice.

  “Oh, Trey,” she whispered. And fell into them.

  Kiss of a Lifetime: Chapter Twenty-Two

  Trey’s embrace surrounded Lacy, warm and sure. Not restraining or confining, but safe and secure.

  “Thank God,” he whispered, and she felt the hard tension in his muscles start to ease. “I want us to work, Lacy. Like hell, I want us to work.”

  “So do I,” she admitted quietly, and nestled closer to him. It felt good to be held by this man. It felt better than anything else she’d ever felt in her life, other than holding her newborn baby.