by Lia Lee
Anne clicked her tongue in annoyance. “You don’t have a hangover, you idiot. You were shot. Oh, my God, are you teasing me? You nearly died. How dare you tease me?”
“Think I saved your life, love.” William looked at her groggily. “I’ll tease you if I like.”
Anne covered her mouth and shook her head.
“I’m hard to kill, you know. Plus, I’m sure I’ve got another scar or two out of this. Nice bonus.” William reached up to her. “Don’t cry.”
Anne leaned over him and took his face in both of her hands. “You are not allowed to do that ever, ever again!”
“Who the hell shot me anyway?”
Anne pulled her chair closer and rested her head against him. They held hands as she explained to him about Clary, about his mother’s ring, and about how, she suspected, Harrold Egerton had always been his father, not Anthony Spencer.
“I don’t know how I feel about that,” William murmured, stroking her fingers with his. “Egerton is such a bloody stupid name.”
“Don’t be like that. I know it must be shocking.”
“It makes more sense why he was always trying to get me on his side. I always thought it was some kind of pissing contest between them.”
“I’m not sure if there’s a better man between them, but Egerton at least had the decency to be upset when Clary shot you. I honestly don’t know what to think about her.” Anne looked up at William. “She clearly dropped the ring at the crime scene on purpose. She rolled on Santiago and a dozen other people she worked for. This bust is going to be huge when it’s all done with. I think this is all just a game to her.”
“That makes more sense than my mum having a set of twins and handing one of them over to her father to pretend she doesn’t exist,” William grumbled. “My parents were fucking nuts. All of them.”
Anne squeezed his hand. “Don’t get shot anymore. Promise me.”
“I’m not planning to go modeling at a gun range, pet.” William rubbed his eyes and licked his lips. “Could you get me some water?”
“Oh, here.” Anne tried to hold it to his lips, but William insisted on holding it himself.
He took a long sip and handed it back to her. “I appreciate your coming in there after me. I meant to keep you out of it, but you could’ve just waited to see if I made it out that day.”
“Not an option after I’d realized Clary had already attacked you once. She’s erratic. We wouldn’t be able to predict what she’d do. Her own father couldn’t predict everything.”
“Still.” William nodded. “I understand you did it because you’re a good cop. This doesn’t have to mean anything.”
Anne stared at him. He was trying to give her an out. A way to pretend that she hadn’t gone running into a dangerous situation and gotten him shot all because she cared too much to stay away. She looked up, then to her left. William tried to shift in the bed and grunted softly.
“Be careful,” she ordered.
“I hope I’m not so poorly that I can’t sit up.”
Anne pressed her lips together hard, then looked William in the eye. “I didn’t do it because I’m a good cop.”
“Yeah, I know. It’s us. It’s complicated.” William’s lips twisted to the side.
“That, but also…” Anne placed her hand on his leg and leaned forward. “Evie’s yours.”
William didn’t react for a moment. His brows furrowed, then shot up, and his mouth opened as he blinked a few times.
“Michelle said—”
“She was covering for me. She knew I didn’t want you to know. It’s why I...” Anne balled her hands into fists. “That’s why I broke things off when you went to prison. It’s why I’ve had such a hard time accepting what you’re offering me. I should’ve told you. I just didn’t want Evie to have to wonder where her father was, if you were arrested again, or worse…”
“I wonder if you expect me to disagree. I am who I am, Anne, but having had not one but two terrible fathers in my life, I wouldn’t wish that on her for the world,” William admitted. He reached for her, and she drew nearer. “If you don’t want me—”
“I want you!” Anne cried. “I can’t live knowing I took her away from you and kept our family apart because of all these stupid fears I’ve never dealt with.”
William rested his head back. He looked so tired and overwhelmed. Anne rubbed her hand up and down his arm.
“Then…” William took a deep breath and pushed himself up again. “Then, marry me, Anne.”
“Marry you!”
“That’s what folks do, isn’t it? Usually before the children, but I wouldn’t go forcing normality on us now.” William smiled slowly and a little uncertainly. “Marry me. We’ll move someplace wonderful, and I can try to be a good father to Evie. You can keep your job, or not. Whatever you want. And we’ll all still be together.”
Anne wiped her eyes and stood to give William a kiss. “Yes.” She kissed him again and again. “Yes! Let’s try it. If anyone could figure out a way to make this work, it would be you, you criminal mastermind!”
“Masterminds don’t find themselves pawns in police investigations or lying flat in a hospital bed.”
“Oh, the things the infamous William Spencer does, all because he loves me,” Anne teased.
Epilogue
William and Anne had their wedding in Vegas, of course, in a lovely, mid-sized ballroom with lots of dancing and delicious cuisine that had Evie and Michelle both over the moon. Anything with jalapenos would make Michelle happy, but the mac and cheese cupcakes were probably Evie’s new favorite food.
By the time this wedding happened, though, they had all relocated to southern California (save Michelle as she finished her degree). Two years had passed, and Anne was still a detective, first class for the time being, while William’s business had mutated rather drastically. It was all above board… for the most part.
As it turned out, taking bullets for a cop, even your girlfriend, tended to result in two things: cops at your wedding, and former contacts who wouldn’t answer your calls. William didn’t mind the shift though. He was more than willing to put the family business behind him and continue carving his own path.
That it kept him mostly on the right side of the law was a bonus, in Anne’s eyes.
After the wedding, they’d all taken off to Nice, France to enjoy the beach and the sun. Michelle didn’t even mind that she was a de facto babysitter on this trip, as it was an excuse to get away from her senioritis and flirt with cute French people on the beach when she didn’t have Evie.
“I am unworthy of this vision of loveliness before me,” Will declared, gesturing to Anne in her bikini, as well as Michelle and Evie, who were both wearing sundresses. Evie’s was fluffy and rainbow colored, and William had picked it out himself.
“You definitely are.” Anne raised onto her toes to give him a kiss. “But this trip might tip things in your favor.”
“I’m glad you lot like it.” William picked up Evie.
“Bonjour!” she chimed. She’d memorized their entire phrasebook and was saying each phrase seemingly at random.
William shook her little hand, and said, “Bonjour, mademoiselle!”
“Let’s go.” Anne fought a smile.
But it wasn’t a fight she could win. The last two years, well, they had started with a bit of a struggle, with William recovering from his wounds, and then gradually bringing him into Evie’s life more and more. It was harder on Anne and William than Evie, to be fair. The two of them had so much that they had to work out. In the end, though, when they’d committed to being a real couple, it had been easy. They knew practically everything about one another anyway, so the momentum of the events surrounding the arrest of William’s sister and father had given them a good shove in the right direction.
Anne couldn’t pretend she really understood why William wrote to his sister in prison. He’d explained that with parents as awful as theirs, he could only blame her so much for trying
to kill him, especially when the first attempt had been at Anthony’s request. In a way, Anne had to see the effort as a positive step. Anything Anne and William could do to resolve the pain of the past would make it easier for them to handle their lives in the here and now. And at least he talked to her about his family now, when he’d once been so closed off about his past.
William, holding Evie on his hip, took Anne’s hand, and together, with Michelle trailing, they walked out onto the beach. Whatever choice they made from this point forward, they made them together. Not only that, Anne thought as she looked up at her willful, impetuous, crafty, and handsome husband, but she hadn’t been forced to choose between her great love, her happiness, and her family at all. They were all one and the same, and she would step forward into her future with confidence, security, and whatever her heart chose.
THE END
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Chapter One
Brett
When I was ten years old, my mother and I moved to Chicago with nothing but the clothes on our backs and a fistful of bills that one of her friends in Indiana had stuffed in her hand before we left. We’d left in the middle of night because we were late on rent. I wasn’t supposed to know why we left, but I did. It wasn’t the first time it had happened, but as luck would have it, it was the last.
Mom had to work three jobs to make sure that it never happened again, but she never once complained.
On my first day at my new school, some of the kids picked on me for my ratty sweater and holey jeans. I’d been about to put my fist into one of their faces when an almighty scream rang out behind me. I spun around to see a little girl with the bluest eyes I’d ever seen, wailing and pointing at the guy who’d been making fun of me.
Another boy came running, and his fist collided into the bully’s cheekbone with a loud crack. After a brief tussle, a teacher had broken up the fight and sent us all off with a warning. The boy who’d punched the guy in my defense looked over at me, his dark hair pointing in every direction and a trickle of blood running from his nose. He grunted, “We’re gonna miss lunch if we don’t hurry. Come on.”
Nineteen years later, that same boy was sitting beside me in the booth of an upscale bar on Logan Square, celebrating my latest deal.
Mark Love. My best goddamned friend in the world. He smacked me on the back with a thump of his fist. I couldn’t hear it over the music that was blaring from large speakers lining the walls, and he grinned like the madman he was.
“Congratulations, brother,” he said. “I’m really fucking proud of you.” He hailed a passing waitress. “Three shots of Patron and three beers, please.”
“Sure thing, coming right up.” The waitress winked and flashed him a smile, but Mark’s eyes were already out on the dance floor.
“Actually, better make that four of everything,” he told her, sighing as he slumped back in his seat. “Sophia’s gonna be parched when she comes off the floor.”
Shawn, another one of our friends, followed Mark’s eyes, and he let out a low whistle. “She’s looking pretty damn good tonight, isn’t she?”
Mark and I both turned to glower at him. Mark because he was super overprotective of his little sister, and me because I generally just didn’t like the idea of Shawn staring at Sophia. He threw his hands up in mock surrender, his lips twitching into a cocky smile.
“Stand down, Not-her-dad One and Not-her-dad Two. Just stating the facts, is all. She looks good. Can either of you deny it?”
“Yes,” Mark snapped. “Keep your eyes off my sister, asshole.”
Shawn’s bright green eyes darted to mine. “Come on, back me up here, Brett. Sophia’s legit hot. I know she’s like a little sister to you, too, but you know she’s not actually related to you, right? That means you can back me up without it being creepy.”
“I know she’s not related to me.” I glanced at Mark, who was waiting for me to continue with a scowl and a challenge in his dark blue eyes. “But she might as well have been. So nope. Not hot.”
It was a total lie, of course.
But it was one I would keep telling until my dying fucking day.
As it turned out, the blue-eyed girl whose shriek had summoned Mark on that fateful day was his sister, Sophia Love. Three years younger than us, Sophia had had some trouble with same bullies over the summer, but she hadn’t known who they were.
Ever the protector, Mark had told her to scream if she saw them at school so that he could, in his in juvenile words, teach them a lesson.
And scream she did.
Every once in a while, Mark and I joked that it was the scream that could be heard around the world. That scream had changed my life when it catapulted the man who would become like a brother to me into it.
Only Sophia wasn’t a seven-year-old girl anymore, and it was getting harder and harder not to notice that fact, despite what I’d just told Shawn. She’d always been pretty. Even as a kid, I remembered that I used to think that she looked like one of the porcelain dolls my mom collected.
In high school, as her body filled out and morphed into that of a woman, she was beautiful. Not that I’d ever actually noticed it back then, not in any other way than agreeing with the whispers in the locker room. Okay, and once when I’d been fall-down drunk, and I’d thought that she looked like a dark, fallen angel when her face had loomed over my semi-passed out self. The next morning, I pretended that I couldn’t remember that I’d told her I thought she was “the most beautiful girl in the world.”
Somewhere around college, though, I had to admit that she was hot, even if it was only to myself. Now at twenty-six, Sophia wasn’t just hot anymore. She was fucking devastating.
And I knew it, along with any other man and probably half the women in the club. But I would never, ever admit it out loud.
Mark smirked beside me, raising his fist for me to bump. “Good man. You see, Shawn? That’s what real friends do. They don’t check out each other’s sisters.”
Shawn rolled his eyes, draining the last bit of beer from the bottle in front of him. “Whatever. Just being honest.”
The waitress arrived with our drinks, grabbing Mark’s attention as she started flirting with him. It afforded me the opportunity to check out the potential talent on the dance floor. Not Sophia, of course. The other talent.
My company had hit a huge milestone that afternoon. The deal was worth billions, and my personal net worth now exceeded one billion dollars. Not bad for a guy who came from nothing and nowhere.
I was out to celebrate with Mark, Sophia, and Shawn, but I also fully intended on finding a celebratory fuck.
The last few months, I’d been burning the midnight oil to get this deal done, and I hadn’t wanted any distractions, so I’d kept my dick in my pants. But the deal was done, which meant that my self-imposed celibacy was over, and I couldn’t wait to get back in the game.
My eyes roamed over the crowded dancefloor, but they kept coming back to the petite brunette right at the very center of it. Her mahogany-colored hair shone under the flashing strobe lights, sailing around her beautiful face as she moved to the rhythm of the music. It was cut to fall right above her shoulders, and it framed her face so perfectly that it was almost like she’d been drawn by a cartoon artist and brought to life.
Slender curves that just wouldn’t quit were encased in a black leather skirt that showed off miles of toned legs, and a tight white tank top revealed the perfect swell of her breasts. Her tiny feet were wearing heels that had been designed to kill me.
And I did
n’t even have a foot fetish. It was just easy to imagine fucking her wearing only those goddamn heels.
She was the only girl on the dance floor that made my dick rock hard, and images of all the dirty, filthy things that I wanted to do to her swam around my head on repeat. But she was also the only girl out there I couldn’t have.
Because she was Sophia. Which meant that my dick needed to chill the fuck out and find someone else that interested it.
“Dude, who are you salivating over?” Mark asked, his beer bottle raised in front of his lips as he squinted out at the dance floor. The waitress was gone, and I hadn’t even noticed.
I shrugged, pointing out a random blonde near where Sophia was dancing. “That chick looks like she could be fun.”
He nodded enthusiastically, elbowing me in the ribs. Unfortunately, because I was an idiot, I’d told Mark about my period of abstinence. The night I’d found out that I had a shot at closing the deal, we celebrated the end of my voluntary dry spell by drinking a shitload of Scotch.
“Do try to last long enough to make the poor girl come at least once,” Mark said, laughing.
I glared at him so hard that I thought my eyes were going to pop. No matter how much I willed it to happen, his head didn’t explode. Rolling my eyes, I raised the shot of Patron that the waitress had delivered, and I smirked. “I’ll get her to call in the morning to tell you that she came so hard that she couldn’t see for a full minute. Now drink up.”
“Who’s coming for a full minute?” Sophia asked behind me suddenly, her voice slightly slurred, but her curiosity was definitely piqued.
When I turned to face her, she blinked and looked around the booth, her eyes moving a little shower than usual. You wouldn’t be able to see it if you didn’t know her well, but I did. She’d excused herself earlier to go dance, claiming the tequila we’d been pounding all night was going to her head and that she needed to sweat it out.
It clearly hadn’t worked itself out of her system yet.