by J. S. Scott
We’d been here for three weeks, spending time with his family. It had been so wonderful to actually have family nearby that I never wanted to leave.
Paige and Eva had pulled me into their circle long before we’d arrived in Denver. Dane’s brothers and their wives were frequent visitors to Walker’s Cay, so we’d all gotten to know each other fairly well.
When the holidays were rolling around, my husband hadn’t hesitated to take his jet to Denver.
I was pretty certain most of his hang-ups about his appearance were gone. We’d traveled together across the world after we were married, seeing places I’d only ever dreamed of visiting.
“The last thing I need is another gift,” I told him jokingly as I exited the car.
Dane met me on the passenger side, grasping my hand firmly as I shut the door.
“You need this one,” he said mysteriously.
I tromped through the snow with him, and was surprised as he opened the door of the enormous high-rise with a code. He waved at the beaming doorman, and the older gentleman waved back at him.
After we got into the elevator, I asked, “Seriously. Where are we going?”
He put two fingers over my lips. “No questions until you see it.”
Okay. Fine. Maybe I could figure it out for myself.
It was a luxury building, so he obviously had a rich friend who owned a residence in the high-rise.
But what in the world was he storing here?
Before I could wrack my brain any harder, the elevator came to a stop. My eyes flicked to the panel, noticing we were on the penthouse floor.
Tugging me from the elevator, Dane searched in his pocket as we walked.
“Here.” He handed me a key as we stopped in front of a door.
I took it. “What is this?”
“The key to our new home.”
I was shocked into silence.
We had a new home in Denver?
I quickly opened the door and we stepped inside, but I didn’t get very far before I noticed that the place had been professionally decorated in a beautiful contemporary style.
“This is beautiful,” I said in a breathless voice. “Is it really ours?”
“All ours,” he confirmed. “I probably should have consulted you, but I wanted you to be surprised. If you don’t like it, we’ll sell it and move.”
“What about Walker’s Cay?”
“We’ll keep it. I’ll always love spending time there, but I don’t need the island anymore, Kenzie. I know you want to go to college, and this place has a studio with amazing light. I can work here and so can you.”
I walked into the penthouse in a daze, still clutching Dane’s hand.
I don’t need the island anymore.
Those words were his way of telling me that he no longer wanted to hide, that he finally believed in himself.
His actions spoke volumes, and this place was more than just another home. It was a location where he could be closer to his family, and I could be closer to Paige and Eva.
I was quiet as we toured the enormous top floor mansion with amazing views. I hadn’t counted the bedrooms, but I thought I’d seen six or seven. The chef’s kitchen was amazing, and the home included an indoor pool and spa, a workout room, a huge studio where Dane and I could work, a theater room, and master to die for.
“Do you like it?” Dane questioned as we returned to the kitchen.
“I love it,” I told him honestly. “It’s very private, yet we’re in the heart of the city.”
“We’ll only be a few minutes from both of my brothers’ places.
I nodded. “I know. It would be really nice to have family close by.”
I thought of all the things I’d like to do, like going to college, and all of those things were now possible. Dane had just laid the whole world at my feet.
Looking up at him, I asked, “Is this really what you want?”
“I do,” he answered.
“You won’t miss the island?” I didn’t want him to regret leaving there to live back in the city.
“I won’t miss it. We’ll still spend time there. But I think it’s time we both joined civilization again. I grew up in Dallas. You grew up in Boston. Denver is a compromise.”
We had both grown up in the city, so it wasn’t like we didn’t know how to survive here. “Then I’d love to live here,” I told him earnestly.
I had occasionally missed the amenities of the city: shopping, restaurants, other dogs for Lucky, the movies, and all of the other things that couldn’t be done without more people around.
Most of all, I’d missed being close to friends.
I would have gladly given them up forever if Dane couldn’t tolerate the city, but I was ecstatic that I didn’t have to.
“I don’t think it’s possible not to be happy as long as I have you,” Dane said huskily.
When I flung myself into his arms, he was ready. He caught my bundled up body, winter clothes and all, and pulled me into him.
“I love you so much. I just don’t want you to give up something you love for me,” I said in a tearful voice.
“I love you more than anything. And the island was something I used to need, but I don’t anymore. At times, it was a prison. Now I can just enjoy it occasionally.”
Maybe I had to remember that at one time, Dane had felt trapped there and incredibly alone. “You’re not alone anymore.”
He nodded. “I know. That’s why it doesn’t matter where I live. And it would be nice to be close to Trace and Sebastian. I’ve missed a lot of their lives.”
“Do they know?”
“They know. They’re both happy to have all of us in one city.”
I was pretty sure that Dane’s brothers were glad to pull their little brother back into the fold.
And me? I was happy to have any family. It wasn’t something I’d ever had, but I’d craved it.
“Thank you,” I said simply.
“For what?”
“For giving me two homes and a family, and for being the best husband a woman could ask for.”
Dane was still possessive and more than a little jealous at times, but it wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle. Other than that, he was the most thoughtful, loving spouse in the world.
He grinned down at me. “Technically, we have a lot more homes. I just never go visit them.”
“All of those are basically investment houses. But this and the island will always be homes.”
“I’ll keep trying to make you happier,” he warned.
“I can’t get any happier than I am right now.”
“We’ll see,” he said. “Should we break the new place in?”
I could tell by the mischief in his eyes exactly what he meant.
Playfully, I punched him in the shoulder. “We have to be at Trace’s house for Christmas dinner very shortly.”
“I’ll call him and let him know we’re running a little late,” he teased.
“You can’t do that,” I said firmly. “I’d be mortified because everyone would know exactly why we were late.”
“I think they all know that I can’t keep my hands off my wife.”
“Which is exactly why we can’t be late.”
I was saying no, but my body desperately wanted to be late for dinner.
“I’ll lie,” he offered. “I’ll tell them we got a flat tire.”
He pulled the knit cap off my head and buried his hands in my hair.
“We can’t,” I moaned as Dane unbuttoned my warm coat.
“We can,” he countered.
I unzipped his coat just so I could feel his rock-hard body beneath my fingertips. He felt good. Absolutely amazing.
“Maybe a quickie,” I conceded.
His mouth came down on mine, and I wra
pped my arms around his neck so he could plunder as much as he wanted. My hand speared into his hair, and I knew I wasn’t leaving until my body found satisfaction.
Dane lifted his mouth and looked down at me. “Not too quick.”
When his tongue started tracing my sensitive earlobe, I suddenly didn’t care if we arrived at Trace and Eva’s a little late. “I’m hungry,” I informed Dane.
His expression changed to one of concern as he answered, “Then we should go. You shouldn’t be skipping meals.”
“I need you more than I need food right now,” I said seductively, not allowing him to push me away.
I should have kept my mouth shut. I, more than anyone, knew that Dane was going to take care of my basic needs if he thought I needed something.
“Okay. But it will be a quickie. I want to feed you.”
He swept me off my feet and plopped my ass on the kitchen table.
“We’ll get to food later,” I told him. “Right now, I just want you.”
It wasn’t even a contest.
Dane fucking me or food.
I’d take the first choice every single time.
“I love you, Kenzie,” Dane said in a husky voice.
“I love you more,” I replied.
If I had one last wall, it had already tumbled. Dane had bought this home for me because he knew I still had things I wanted to accomplish. Perhaps he was ready to leave the island, but I knew damn well that he hadn’t been thinking about himself when he’d decided to relocate.
“We’re going to be happy here, Kenzie,” he said hoarsely, his voice full of emotion.
“I know we are.”
I’d be happy being anywhere with Dane, but I knew we were going to build great memories in this home.
I knew that Eva and Paige both wanted to have children, and Dane would like to have a family, too. Our children and his brothers’ kids would grow up together here in Denver. Maybe it wouldn’t happen soon, but eventually we’d all be ready to have kids, and our kids would have cousins to play with.
We started to tear at each other’s clothing, desperate to be skin-to-skin. “I need you,” I told him feverishly.
“I need you more,” he rasped.
I sighed. “I forgot where the nearest bedroom was.”
“Don’t need it,” he grumbled. “I was thinking of just bending you over this table and—”
“You’re right,” I interrupted. “No bedroom required.”
I liked his idea so much better than searching for a bed.
In the end, we were more than a little late for dinner, but what had happened before that had been too good for me and Dane to have any regrets.
Sometimes, I still wondered how a poor, scarred, damaged, imperfect female had ended up married to a guy like Dane.
I had family.
I had a husband who loved me.
And I was no longer looking over my shoulder, prepared to run.
My scars would never go away completely, but it didn’t matter. The damage to my psyche was healing, and I needed that more than I wanted to have a perfect face.
All I’d needed to do was keep trying. I did make it, and all of my years of running had a purpose. I was trying to get to Dane.
My husband considered himself damaged, too. But I’d never, ever see him that way, just like he didn’t see me as scarred. We’d recognized each other with our hearts instead of our eyes.
When we looked at each other, all we could see and feel was love.
~ The End ~
Special Preview of
Xander Sinclair’s Book,
The Billionaire’s Secrets
The Sinclair Series
By J.S. Scott
Coming November 7th with Montlake Books
PROLOGUE
Xander
OVER A YEAR EARLIER…
I had no idea what it felt like to be dead, but I was starting to wonder if I’d died and was paying for my life on Earth in the depths of Hell.
Every muscle in my body was twitching and burning with pain, and I couldn’t control the thoughts—or maybe they were memories—bouncing around in my brain. I tried to open my eyes, but it was too damn painful, so I was stuck with the images I couldn’t make go away.
I could remember how badly I’d needed my fix, and how I’d gone to some lowlife drug dealer to get the heroin. I’d gotten home and mixed up the injectable version of the drug, unwilling to settle for the effects of smoking or snorting it. I’d been so damn desperate that I had to have immediate relief.
I’d found the vein, and recalled the feeling of intense relief once the drug almost immediately hit my system.
After that, most of what happened was a blank until the damn paramedics had given me the mother of all shocks to my system…the opiate antidote.
Shit! I hated that medication. It had ended my oblivion, shocked my body back to being alert and hurting again.
How could those fuckers spoil my high?
“You almost died this time, Xander. What in the hell were you thinking?” a husky male voice muttered at my bedside.
I recognized the voice. It wasn’t my brother, Micah, who was here with me this time. It was Julian. What in the hell was he doing here? My middle sibling should have been out on a movie shoot. He wasn’t supposed to be back here in California.
I forgot all about what brother had come to be with me for this particular overdose. It didn’t matter. There had been plenty of others before this one, and Micah almost always was the one who bailed me out of trouble.
Unfortunately, my brain wasn’t all that functional, and all I could really think about was the intense pain of withdrawal.
Fuck! All I needed was to be high, and for everybody to leave me the hell alone. I wanted to forget my life and live in a world where all I needed to do was to get my next fix.
I was a junkie, and I was pretty sure I’d already hit rock bottom, but I’d never felt the collision because I’d been too stoned to give a damn.
My body started to shiver, and the pounding pain in my muscles traveled to my head. I hurt fucking everywhere, all because some asshole had decided to bring me back to reality.
Fuck reality! It was something I’d been trying to escape from for several years now.
“Xander! Can you hear me?” Julian asked in an urgent tone.
“Yeah. Now shut up,” I insisted in a graveled voice, knowing from experience that talking was only going to make the pain worse.
“This is bullshit,” Julian said angrily. “Why didn’t I know that you were an addict?”
I opened my eyes painfully from the hospital bed and tried to focus on my brother. “Because Micah usually comes when something happens,” I answered flatly, not caring who knew I needed drugs to survive.
I’d tried alcohol to dull the pain after my parents had been murdered and I’d pulled through my own injuries. But it wasn’t working as well as it used to, and I preferred the total oblivion of drugs. I wasn’t averse to drinking, but it took a whole pint these days to forget who I was and what had happened.
Honestly, I’d really rather have the prescription medications I’d taken for so long after my injuries three years ago, but the doctor finally decided I had to stop taking them, and refused any further prescriptions. Since then, I’d bought them on the street. When I got really desperate, I had to mix up heroin. Today had been one of those “desperate” days. Or had it been last night? Hell, I had no idea how much time had passed, but what did it matter?
“You have to stop this shit, Xander,” Julian said fiercely. “Hell, you used to hate drugs. I remember you telling me how many of your rocker friends were using, and you used to think it was moronic. What happened to you?”
I looked at his anxious expression with a twinge of remorse. Yeah, I used to hate doping. �
��That was in another life,” I answered.
“It’s the same damn life. The only one you have,” Julian said as he brought his fist down on the bedrail. “And it’s still idiotic.”
“Maybe I don’t give a damn anymore. Just go. Get the fuck out of here. I never asked for anybody to come,” I answered angrily.
“I’m not going anywhere until you’re out of here,” he said stubbornly. “Then, I’m taking you back east with me where you can get your shit together. They have a rehab—”
“I’m not doing rehab again,” I growled at him, the pain of substance withdrawal clawing at every part of my body. “Why the hell can’t you and Micah just leave me alone? Micah’s involved with somebody, and you’re both happy. Go back east and let me have my goddamn freedom.”
Julian shot me a disappointed look that made me momentarily cringe as he answered, “I may not like you right now, but you’re still my little brother. You’re going with me.”
“I’m not,” I argued hoarsely.
“What’s here in California for you? You have no family here, and probably very few friends. You aren’t recording or performing again, so why do you need to stay here?”
So I can be stoned every day without anybody watching while I practically crawl to a place where I can get my next fix.
“Because I own a house here,” I argued. “It’s home.”
“Don’t give me that crap. The Sinclairs have property everywhere, and you have a home in Amesport, too. A house that Micah had built for you.”
“Told him not to bother,” I answered, not realizing that my eldest brother had followed through on his promise to bring all three of us together again by building us homes in some boring, small town on the eastern seaboard.
Julian was silent for a few moments before he took a deep breath and released it. “You’re an asshole. You know that, right?”
I shrugged. I didn’t much care what anybody thought about me anymore, not even my brothers.
He continued, “Micah is with somebody, and he’s fucking happy. For the first time in his life, I see him smile almost every damn day. He doesn’t deserve to have that joy smothered by your sorry ass. Clean your shit up, Xander. Whether you know it or not, this situation affects all of us.”