by Staci Hart
I brought my lips to hers, kissed her tenderly, ardently before letting her go. “I’ll be waiting.”
That wrinkle smoothed, her smile giving me the falsest of hopes that everything would work out.
With a swift kiss to her forehead, I made for the door, leaving first to make sure the coast was clear. She passed before I ducked back in to wait it out, looking back for the smallest moment of reassurance, which I both gave and took.
And then she was gone.
I stepped back into the restroom, catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I was the picture of sobriety—back straight, proud nose, lips flat, eyes stern.
No one would ever know that beneath that mask, I was a wildfire.
* * *
❖
It was hours before she was in my arms, and I didn’t calm down until that moment.
It had been an unbearable stretch of time, one consumed with imaginings of the worst. Her mother confronting her about me. A fight and disownment.
Maisie losing everything because I was too selfish to walk away.
The second she was through my door, I swept her into my arms, kissed her with reckless misery at the ways I’d hurt her simply for wanting her.
When the tension in her body dissolved, so did mine, and only then did I let her lips go.
The rest of her I held on to.
She smiled lazily up at me, sighing away the world beyond my door.
“Are you all right?” I asked, thumbing her cheek.
“I am now.”
“Did she say anything? Does she know?”
“She didn’t say a word about you, so she must.”
I kissed her again and released her.
“They spent a long time talking about mediation,” she said, leading me toward the stairs. “Their plan is to be as obstructive as they can without getting in any more trouble, and they’re going to do whatever they can to bait you. And the carrot of choice is your mother.”
I swore under my breath.
“It’s going to be ugly, Marcus. I can feel it. I don’t know what she’ll do, how she’ll hurt you, but she will. If she puts it together, she might bar me from legal meetings. Or worse. After today, I don’t know how much good I’ll be.”
“Maisie, you’ll always be good for me.” But I’m not good for you.
She smiled over her shoulder. “I hope so. But … well, where the lawsuit is concerned, I might be out of the game.” Once in my room, she sat heavily on the end of my bed and kicked off her heels. “What are we going to do?”
“Something neither of us wants. We’re going to have to be more careful.”
This time, her sigh was resigned.
“Until the lawsuit is settled, we have to try not to see each other. Otherwise, we’ll never throw your mother off the scent.”
“Maybe I should change perfumes,” she teased, stretching her feet. But her wan smile disappeared. “I don’t want to stay away.”
“Neither do I. But I’ve already put you in enough danger with her.” I pulled off my jacket, then my tie. “It’ll have to be lunches and extended work outings for the charity. Times when you’re already out, things that can be easily explained.”
Her frown was more of a pout, her chin flexed and eyes shiny. “It will never cease to amaze me how swiftly she can ruin everything good in my life.”
I sat next to her on the end of the bed, pulling her legs into my lap. “There are many things she has control over, but not our hearts. She can’t ruin us,” I said to convince both myself and her. “This is temporary, Maisie—just a blip. I’ve made this hard enough for you, so let’s do the smart thing instead of what we want. Just this once.”
“Just this once? Promise?”
I chuckled, sliding her closer by the hook of her knees. “Promise. Because after we tell your mother, all bets are off. We’re going to do whatever the fuck we want to do.”
She giggled, the sound bringing a smile to my face. It was impossible to feel anything but pleased and easy joy at her happiness.
“So what’ll it be?” I asked, unfastening the highest button of her tailored shirt, which she’d left blessedly low. “Whatever the fuck do you want to do after all this?”
“Well, let’s see …” she started, smiling as I undid another button, rewarded with the view of her breasts, swathed in sheer nude lace. “I’ve thought about starting up another center, maybe like Harvest. But either way, I want to do something meaningful. Something that gives back.”
“Maybe you could run the charity at Longbourne.”
“You have a charity?” Her eyes widened in surprise. “Why haven’t you told me?”
“We don’t. Not yet at least.” With a tug, her shirt was free of her skirt, and my unbuttoning continued.
“Oh, I would love to work for Longbourne. I’ve always imagined that’s what a family business looks like, how it should be run.”
“You mean into the ground?”
She swatted my chest, though her hand slid to my buttons having become aware that I’d nearly gotten her shirt off while mine was still unfairly on. “I mean that you would do anything to save each other, your mother, the business. Your priority is first and foremost to your family and everything else after. It’s the exact opposite of what I know of family business and priorities—control, obligation, and duty. Walking away won’t be hard—oh, don’t make that face. I don’t believe in miracles, Marcus, and deep down, you don’t either. And short of a miracle, I can’t find any reason to stay. But my point is that it feels like I’ll be on to bigger and better things, if for no other reason than those things will be mine.”
“But won’t you miss it?”
“My mother? Does any criminal miss their jailer?” she joked.
“Not your mother, but don’t you think you’ll wish you’d stayed at Bower?”
She paused, considering. “Maybe it’s naive, but I don’t. Staying feels so much harder than going. Maybe it’s just the allure of something new, a different life. I’d be sad if I were walking away from someone who loved me, but I’m not. I’m a possession to her, a pet, not a person. You should count yourself lucky—I’d give just about anything to have the kind of family you have.”
“Maybe someday you will.” My heart ached with longing for that day as I slipped her shirt off the curve of her shoulder, pressing a kiss to the revealed skin.
“Could you imagine,” she said wistfully, “what it would be like for us to run Longbourne together?”
“I could. You taking what you’ve learned and employing it at Longbourne. Taking the reins of the true business of it because my expertise is sadly lacking. I’m in finance and poorly versed in the inner workings of a flower shop.”
“Oh, I think you know it better than you realize.” Warm hands slid under my shirt and over my shoulders, removing the fabric to press a kiss to the curve, as I had hers. “I’d run the large-scale business operations and the charity department. You would run the finances. Your mother would be chairman of the board.”
I chuckled, tracing her collarbone, her sternum, the swell of her breast. “You should really consider that before committing.”
“Tess could run the shop’s daily business, but I could help you expand, grow.” Another sigh, this one longing. “Wouldn’t that be lovely? I’d much prefer that dream than the dread of Bower.”
“I think you would fit in perfectly,” I mused. “I love this idea.” And I love you.
My hand wandered up to her face to hold it like the precious thing it was.
I love her, I realized with a shock that split me open, exposed me. When did it happen? Have I loved her from the start? Have I loved her my whole life?
It felt as if she had been a part of me long before I knew her, and now that I’d found her, there was no choice to be made. I had never subscribed to the sentiment that one person could make another whole. But now I knew the concept had been born from the restriction of words.
There was no way to desc
ribe a feeling patently beyond description.
I had discovered a new sense, one tuned to her alone. When she wasn’t with me, I could feel her far away. When she was here, nothing beyond us mattered. And I knew that one day, we would settle into a life, into each other, and things wouldn’t be this intense, this overwhelming. But I also knew whatever thread connected us wouldn’t fray or sever. Even if we should part, we were bound. And now that I knew the safety and peace that bond provided, being bound to her was the only thing I wanted.
I couldn’t speak, my throat a pileup of words and feeling. So I leaned in to occupy my lips. They brushed hers, then captured them, pressing into a seam, and she opened to let me in.
I’d let her in long ago. Maybe it was that first day when we danced in the rain. Maybe it was the kiss, that first kiss in the dark boardroom full of goodbyes. Or the moment she stood up for the things I loved. Maybe it had been a mundane moment between now and then, some quiet glance, an honest kiss.
I didn’t know when or how, but I knew without question that I couldn’t have stopped it any easier than I could have stopped the sun from shining. When I looked into my future, she was there. When I looked back at my past, it was a colorless sketch of a life without her.
It was crazy. Reckless. Illogical.
And I didn’t care. Because I loved her, and that truth became the only one in my life that mattered.
We wound together, chests flush and hands splayed, mouths wide and tongues seeking. With a twist, I laid her beneath me, sliding my thigh between hers, taking her pencil skirt with it. Her hands worked my belt, then my zipper, then my cock. Mine hitched her skirt, cupped her sex, tasted the heat of her with hungry fingertips.
I was very nearly on the verge of tasting her with my tongue when my front door opened.
We froze.
“Hallooooo?” my mother called from the entryway.
I hissed, flying off the bed as Maisie rolled the other direction, scrambling for her top and tugging at her skirt.
“One second, Mom!” I called too cheerfully, the two of us wild-eyed and speaking in gestures.
“What are you doing up there? You’re not napping, are you? You haven’t napped since you were an infant.”
Her footfalls on the stairs sprang everything into a frenzy.
“No, I just had something to do,” I said in a panic as Maisie ducked into my closet.
“In your room? At noon?” Her voice came closer, and I kicked Maisie’s heels under my bed, adjusting my cock and buckling my pants. There was no time for a shirt.
I bolted into the hallway to find my mother at the top of the stairs. At the sight of me, her head cocked, brows drawn.
“Where’s your shirt?”
“I was hot,” I said, moving to put my arm over her shoulders and guide her back downstairs.
Her eyes narrowed, and she spun away from me faster than she should have been able to. “Is your furnace broken? Let me have a look, clunky, old thing.”
“Furnace is fine, Mom.” I tried to grab her, but she dodged me, beelining for my room. “I need a drink of water though—come on, and I’ll make you some tea.”
“Now, just a second,” she said when I ran past her and put myself between her and the doorway. “I’d like to see why your room is so hot. Did you open a window? It’s so nice outside,” she said, trying to look around me.
“Mom. All right, all right,” I said, hands out, brain a flurry of excuses, finally landing on one she’d never argue. “I’m gonna be honest.”
One of her brows rose, but she quit trying to sneak a peek.
“There is so much porn in there.”
She rolled her eyes with a laugh, but her cheeks flushed, and thankfully, she backed off. “I appreciate your trying to protect me, but after raising four boys through adolescence, I am immune to shock. There was a time when I was afraid to step foot in any of your rooms without knocking. God knows what I might have found. Or saw.” She shuddered.
“Boys are disgusting creatures, Mom.” She let me guide her toward the stairs. “Why don’t you go down and have a seat while I put a shirt on.”
“All right, darling. And you’ll come tell me about the hearing.”
“You bet. Just give me one second.”
“And to think,” she said, “I thought you had a secret girlfriend.”
She smiled as I turned, and I thought I caught a shift of that smile into one of shrewd understanding as she cast a glance beyond me toward my room.
But there was zero time to wonder about that as I flew into my room and shut my door behind me, opening the closet. Maisie clutched her shirt to her chest, her lips pursed and eyes wide. She smiled when she saw me, stifling a laugh with her hand.
“Full of porn, huh?” she whispered.
I pulled her out of the closet and into my arms, pressing my lips to her ear. “Wait until she’s gone, and I’ll prove I wasn’t lying.”
She shook with silent laughter, pressing a kiss to my neck.
And I pulled on my shirt and buttoned it, leaving it untucked. As I left my room again, I closed the door behind me with a singular objective.
To get my mother the hell out of here so I could make good on that promise.
19
Promises, Promises
MAISIE
I didn’t know how long I’d been waiting for Marcus—not too long, but far too long for my liking.
I hadn’t wandered around his room like I’d wanted to, instead tiptoeing to the bed to ease in gently, worried I’d make a sound and alert his mother. I’d slid beneath his soft, fluffy comforter, not bothering with my shirt, ridding myself of my skirt to save us both the trouble. I would have taken it all off if I hadn’t been afraid of her busting in like an amateur detective.
The last way I wanted Mrs. Bennet to meet me was with my nipples on display.
My phone was downstairs with my bag, and I hoped he’d hidden it somehow—his house was too tidy to lose things in a mess. As such, I had nothing to do except sit there in Marcus’s big bed and think.
I thought about the hearing and the sheer terror that we’d been found out by my mother. I thought about what it would be like to dissociate from her, from my life, wondering if it’d feel like losing a limb or removing a tumor. I thought about how the only joys in my life were the ones my mother opposed to and how desperate I was to escape the misery she’d shackled me with.
But then I thought of Marcus, overshadowing every offense in my life with nothing more than his presence.
The suffering on his face when he’d asked me what I wanted to do, as if he expected me to call it off. The hours and hours I’d spent here in the haven of his arms. The longing to spend all of my time here. With him.
I thought about the way he’d looked at me in that moment when we were daydreaming of a future—our future. That look was a mirror of my heart, reflecting love back at me like a blinding streak of sunshine.
In the short time that I’d known him, I’d learned many very important things about the stoic Marcus Bennet. The first was that he wasn’t as stoic as he seemed—when he let his guard down, he was anything but. My Marcus was playful and light in that quiet way of his. When he spoke, his words were exact. And you could take them to the bank.
He fulfilled his promises with a loyalty I’d never witnessed. And I realized with a desperate desire I wanted one of those promises for myself.
I’d meant what I’d said—my future was a shiny, terrifying thing, a glimmer of change on the horizon. When all this was over and I walked toward that future, I’d leave everything else behind. And though I hadn’t realized just how deeply I felt it until I uttered the words, I found more peace in that future than the one my mother had planned for me.
I sighed, leaning back into the luxurious pillows. And with a smile on my face, I closed my eyes and daydreamed about that future with the wish burning hot in my chest.
The bed dipped, snapping me out of the actual dream and the unknowing sleep I�
�d slipped into.
Marcus chuckled when I bolted up, stretching out next to me. “Have a nice nap?”
“Good God, you scared the shit out of me.” This was evidenced by the thud of my heart under my palm.
“I should have let you sleep, but I’m a selfish bastard—I had to kiss you.” Leaning in, he did just that. “You were too beautiful, lying here asleep with a smile on your face like a Disney princess.”
I laughed, lying back down on my side to face him. “How’d it go with your mother?”
“Fine, but she’s definitely onto me. She knows there’s someone, but she doesn’t know who. Laney and Jett don’t know yet, and I think Dad’s still in the dark too. I can’t believe Luke kept his mouth shut. Probably helps he’s living with Tess and not at home. He’s a worse gossip than Mom.”
“We should tell her,” I suggested.
He frowned. “You think?”
“I don’t want her to find out some other way. Like with me naked in your bed.”
He scooted closer, cupping my hip and eyeing my lips. “Remind me next time to bolt the door.”
“I’m serious,” I said on a laugh, which made me sound not very serious. “I also don’t want her to find out from my mother.”
At that, we sobered.
“I don’t either.” He paused. “Are you sure you’re ready for that?”
“Absolutely not. But I’m absolutely certain about you.”
I was rewarded for the admission with a searing kiss, one that went on until I was pinned beneath him and his fingers were tangled in my hair.
He looked down at me with smoldering eyes. “All right. We’ll tell her, but we need a plan.”
“A plan?” I teased.
“Fine, a few plans. But I’m not sure when we should do it. We’re being careful, remember? If your mother finds out …”
Neither of us needed to finish that thought. We all knew her finding out in the middle of the lawsuit would throw a block of C-4 in the dumpster fire that was this whole ordeal.