by Claire Adams
"Yes, well, furniture will definitely help that!" she laughed as she looked away.
"That's not what's missing," I said as I reached out and took her hand. She looked up with a confused expression as I continued, "Leah, I know you don't want us to date while we're working together, and I respect your reasons. But since the moment I met you I knew you were different, and while the past few months have been a challenge, they've also made everything much clearer to me."
"How so?" she asked, holding my gaze.
"I knew I wanted you, but I didn't know what I was willing to do to earn you," I admitted with a wry grin. "I've been used to getting almost anything I wanted, and you showed me that there's an advantage to working for some things."
I looked down into Leah's blue eyes and took a deep breath before I continued.
"I don't like the distance between us, and I want to do something about it," I said. "So, I renovated this house in the hope that you would . . ."
"You think I'm just going to pick up and move in with you because you have all the money in the world to buy things that you think I might like?" she asked.
"No, I didn't . . ." I began.
"Look, it's nice of you to offer, and the house that you've picked is definitely a nice one, but I'm not interested in some kind of live-in arrangement," she sighed. "Six months ago, I might have jumped at the offer, but now . . . well, now I want something more. You've shown me that I am capable of getting more."
She let go of my hand and walked across the deck toward the bedroom. Her shoulders slumped as if she'd had all the air let out of her.
"Leah!" I called causing her to turn around. I could see that there were tears welling up in her eyes. I inhaled and swiftly crossed the deck to where she stood. I pulled her into my arms and held her tightly against my body. "I wish sometimes that you would hear me out before you jump to conclusions."
"It's just that I can't . . ." she began as she choked back a sob.
"Leah, I wasn't asking you to move in with me," I said as I reached up and ran my fingers through her curly dark hair. "I love you, and I was asking you if you'd be interested in something more permanent. Oh, say, like marrying me?"
"Wait, what?" she said swallowing hard and looking up at me, again, confused.
"I'm asking you if you'd consider marrying me," I repeated as I watched her struggle to comprehend what I was asking.
"But what about Riley?" she countered.
"Well, funny you should ask," I said as I reached into my pocket and pulled out a small blue box. "She helped me pick this out."
I flipped open the box to reveal a perfect diamond in a traditional Tiffany setting. Once I had talked with Riley about what I wanted to do and gotten her approval, she and I had spent an afternoon shopping for rings. I wasn't sure how Leah would feel about the fact that I'd discussed things with Riley first, so I held my breath as I offered her the ring. I said, "Leah Walsh, will you do me the honor of accepting this ring and agreeing to be my wife?"
"Jack!" she cried as she stepped back and buried her face in her hands. For a moment, I thought I'd made a mistake and dread began to take hold, but then Leah looked up with a smile on her face and tears running down her cheeks. She simply said, "I love you, too. Yes."
I swept her into my arms and swung her around in circles as she buried her face in my shoulder.
"You silly man, of course I'll marry you!" she laughed once I put her down and slipped the ring on her finger.
"Phew, I thought maybe you were pissed at me," I admitted.
"Why would I be?"
"Because I basically asked a twelve-year-old for your hand in marriage," I said, sending Leah into a fit of laughter as the reality dawned on her.
"Well, I know what you were aiming for, so it's all okay," she said with a smile. "But don't do it again."
"Yes, ma'am," I said as I smiled and saluted. "Shall we go tell the world?"
"I'd like that, Mr. Yates," she smiled as she took my hand and walked with me out to the car.
Jimmy stood next to the vehicle, beaming from ear to ear. When I'd closed Leah's door and walked around the car, he looked at me and simply said, "Your father would have approved."
I smiled, nodded, and climbed into the car next to Leah as Jimmy drove us toward our future.
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
Epilogue
After Jack's surprise proposal, we headed to his mother's house for an engagement party he had asked her to plan. Betty had invited a small group of friends and family. She'd convinced Patrick to come to the party and had arranged for a nurse to accompany Mama.
"This is all quite the to-do, isn't it?" Mama said when I went to hug her. "It's pretty fancy."
"It is, Mama," I said leaning down to hug her and feeling sad when she leaned away from me.
"Remind me who you are again, would you?" she said.
I didn't have the heart to tell her, so I simply smiled and repeated that it was so good of her to come. Mama stayed for a short while before being transported back to the retirement community. She'd become agitated because she was away from her familiar surroundings, and it was a reminder of how far she'd slipped away from us. I was still glad that Betty had asked her and that she'd been able to be there. Riley seemed unworried by the whole ordeal with Mama and cheerfully called, "Bye Gram! See you soon!" as the nurse loaded Mama into the car for the trip home.
Once Mama was gone, Patrick pulled me aside and said that he'd tried to find out more about the envelopes we'd found in the house. Mama had only said that she knew Molly was gone.
"How did she know?" I asked.
"I think the letters were Molly's way of letting her know she was okay," Patrick said. "Once they stopped, I think the assumption was that Molly was gone for good, but we'll never really know for sure."
"Can't we hire a detective to follow her trail?" I asked.
"Leah, I've already done that," he sighed. "The trail went cold in Florida, and he wasn't able to find out anything more. She simply disappeared."
"I don't accept that," I said stubbornly. "There's got to be a way to find out what happened to her, and I'm going to figure it out."
"Suit yourself, Leah," Patrick shrugged. "But I'm not going to spend my time chasing after pipe dreams. I'm going to accept that she's gone and move on with my life. You really should do the same."
I turned and walked away from my brother, muttering under my breath about how I'd find our sister and then I'd show him what determination could accomplish.
"Why the sour face?" Jack asked as he caught me by the arm and pulled me into the sitting room away from the rest of the guests. I told him what Patrick had said, and he reminded me that having lots of money had its advantages. "I'll hire someone to do some checking. Now can we get back to celebrating this happy occasion?"
I laughed and assured him that we could, but before we left the room, I turned to him and said, "That was quite a risk you took planning the party before you knew my answer. How did you know I'd say yes?"
"It was a risk," he admitted. "But I had faith in you . . . and in us."
And with that, he leaned down and kissed me before taking my hand and returning to the party.
*
"You look beautiful, Leah," Riley said as she adjusted my veil one last time and handed me my bouquet. "You're the perfect Irish bride."
"I couldn't have done it without you, kiddo," I said, leaning over and kissing her cheek. I’d had a seamstress replicate Mama's white lace wedding gown as best as she could from what I remembered, and it fit me like a glove. The sweetheart neckline dipped just low enough to give me a hint of décolletage, but not so low that I felt self-conscious. The bodice cradled my breasts before sloping inward to give me a waist where it joined with layers upon layers of Irish lace that fell to my feet and stretched out behind me in a cathedral length train. On my head, I wore Betty's wedding veil. It was fitted on a tiara of crystals and fell just above my ankles. I felt like a Disney princess come to life whe
n I looked at my reflection.
"I wish Mom could be here to see this," Riley said quietly as she fussed with the robin's egg blue sash on her dress, trying to get it to lie flat against her waist. I set my bouquet down and fixed it, and said a small prayer of thanks that she hadn’t fought me on wearing a dress for the wedding.
"I wish she could be here, too," I said as I wrapped my arms around my niece and hugged her tightly. "But at least we know she's in peace."
Jack's investigator had followed Molly's trail of letters and had done some digging into what had happened once she arrived in Florida. A week before the wedding, he'd sent Jack a full report of his findings in which he'd detailed Molly's last weeks and her death. According to the coroner's report on Jane Doe #473-229, Molly had overdosed on alcohol and cocaine and been buried in a pauper's graveyard at an old church in Tallahassee.
For two days after we'd learned the news, Riley was silent. On the third day, she came down for breakfast, smiled, and thanked Jack for finding out what had happened. I asked her if she wanted to talk about it, but she shook her head and poured herself a bowl of cereal. Later, Jack asked if we should send her to see a counselor, but I told him it would be better to wait and see what Riley wanted before forcing her to do something. He agreed, and so we waited.
"Now that Mom and Gram are gone, you're my only family," she said looking at me. I nodded and bit my lip to hold back the tears. Mama had passed away in her sleep a month after the engagement party, and while it had been a relief to know that she wasn't suffering from the years of hard drinking and poor health, I still missed her.
"We've got Patrick," I interjected.
"He's a priest," she said rolling her eyes. "He doesn't count."
"Don't tell him that!" I chuckled as I took one last look in the mirror and nodded at my reflection.
Patrick had agreed to officiate at the ceremony and, although Jack and Lincoln had made peace after the blow out over Baby Steps, Jack hadn't wanted him to be his best man. So Riley was doing double duty as best man and maid of honor. Norma, Betty and I had helped her pick out a dress that wasn't too girly, but was appropriate for a summer, backyard wedding. She looked lovely with her hair done and a hint of makeup on her face. I was happy that she'd turned out okay after all the drama, but I also knew we had a long road ahead of us since she would soon turn thirteen.
Jack and I had decided to keep the wedding a small affair and had only invited immediate family and our Baby Steps friends. We'd had the wedding organizer set up casual benches for the vows. We decided to turn the backyard into a dance floor over the pool and had an outdoor barbecue rather than have it be a formal affair. Jack had decided to wear the suit he'd worn the day he'd met me and had suffered the accidental nosebleed. I wore my mother’s dress. Everything seemed perfect.
"You look impeccable," Riley said as she linked her arm with mine and said, "Let's go show Jack!"
I descended the stairs with Riley's help, and as the music began to play, I lifted my chin and walked confidently toward our new life.
*
"Close your eyes," I whispered as I started up the steps. It was well past midnight when I carried my bride up the staircase to our new bedroom so she could see the surprise I'd been working on for the past few months.
We'd agreed not to live in the house until after the wedding ceremony, but I'd spent many evenings overseeing the installation of our new furniture and custom made cabinetry in the bedrooms. I pushed the door open and stepped inside, setting her gently down on the carpet and closing the door behind us. I said, "Okay, open them."
Leah slowly opened her eyes and looked around the room. I watched as she took it all in, her eyes growing wider with each discovery of something new and amazing. I'd created a seating area around the fireplace where we could sit and talk, or just relax with a book. The plump sofa and chaise were made of the softest microfiber in muted, earthy tones and draped with plush angora throws that accented the colors.
I'd had the workmen create walk-in closets for us on either side of the enormous turquoise tiled bathroom. In Leah's closet, there were enough drawers and shelves to accommodate her growing wardrobe, and a dressing table that lit up so she could put on her makeup or do her hair in private. Like the rest of the bedroom, the floor was highly-shined wood with a few thick throw rugs placed around the room.
But the crowning glory of the room was the bed. An enormous four-poster bed with a canopy that draped across the posts, giving the area an exotic feel. The bed was covered in a thick duvet that was embroidered with our intertwined initials in the center.
"My God, Jack, it looks like we live at the Ritz," she exhaled as she turned in place and took in the entire room.
"Then you like it?" I asked, already knowing the answer.
"I love it," she said smiling as she turned and wrapped her arms around my neck. "And I love you, Mr. Yates."
"I love you, too, Mrs. Yates," I smiled as I wrapped my arms around her and softly kissed her lips. "I live to make you happy."
"Already done," she said, kissing me back.
My fingers fumbled to find a zipper on the back of her dress before realizing that she was buttoned in. I sighed as I turned her around and began the onerous task of sliding each one of the delicate pearl buttons through its corresponding loop with one hand. I slowly ran the other hand down the front of her dress. Leah sighed as I undid the last button and slid the dress off of her shoulders, letting it pool around her feet.
I quickly shed my tie and shirt before turning her around. She looked lovely bathed in the low light, and I breathed deeply as I bent and scooped her up, carrying her to the bed. Leah moaned softly as I ran my tongue up the side of her neck before setting her down. I slipped out of the rest of my clothes before I knelt on the bed between her legs and finished undressing her.
Although we'd made love many times between the engagement and our wedding day, when I reached down and positioned myself at the edge of her wet opening, I felt a sense of reverence as I slid inside her. I moved slowly inside her, feeling every warm, wet inch enveloping me, losing myself in the sound of her deep moans as I stroked her closer and closer to the edge.
"Jack," she cried as I reached between her legs and pressed my finger against the spot that made her body sing. "I can't . . . oh my God . . ."
"You feel so good," I whispered into her lips as I gritted my teeth and slowed my thrusts even more. Leah cried out, begging me to speed up, but I wanted the moment to last forever. I continued my long slow thrusts, knowing that I wasn't going to be able to keep this up for much longer. The need in me was rising, and the feeling of Leah wrapped around my aching shaft drove me almost to the edge.
"Oh, oh, oh," she moaned as my fingers combined with the pressure and the movement to send her flying. I could feel her orgasm starting deep within her as she began to pulse around me. Two more strokes. She cried out as she pushed her hips up against mine and let go. She groaned, "Now, harder! Harder!"
I lifted her hips up off the bed and thrust into her as hard and fast as I could, over and over again. I could feel my own release just out of reach until she moaned, "Oh God, yes, Jack, that's it! Take me!" I pulled back and then plunged deep into her as I felt my body let go and release everything I'd been holding back. My face went cold as the waves of pleasure rolled through my body and released inside of her.
I held her tightly as I lay on top of her, feeling her relaxing under me as I kissed her face and lips. Leah looked up at me with her blue eyes soft and gentle. She caressed my cheek.
"I love you, Mr. Yates," she whispered, then kissed my lips. "This has been the best day ever."
"I love you, too, Mrs. Yates," I said, smiling down at her.
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BILLIONAIRE RIDES
By Claire Adams and Alexa Davis
This b
ook is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2016 Claire Adams
Chapter One: Ethan
"Is there anything else I can do for you, Mr. Colson?"
"Yes: blow me," I stated.
I leaned back in my chair as my beautiful assistant Angela got down on her knees beneath my desk and went to work. I ran my hands through her red hair as her head bobbed up and down and her mouth worked enthusiastically. Within a few moments, her expert tongue would be bring me to climax and I'd shoot my load down her eager throat, then watch as she picked up her files and went back to work.
This was the life, and I was living the dream every man wished for—only it hadn't come easily. I'd started working at the age of thirteen when my mother ran out on my father and me for another man. My father had been weak and couldn't take it. He turned to drinking and could never hold onto a job, so it was up to me if we were going to keep from starving out on the streets.
It was tough, but even though I was working full time, I still managed to keep top grades in school. One of my teachers noticed and recommended me for a special internship in the Business Leaders of Tomorrow program at his alma mater. My father had remarried by then, and I knew he'd be okay on his own, so I went ahead and applied, never thinking that I'd really get in—but I did.
They admitted me on full scholarship, and when the program was over, I was offered full-time employment at one of the nation's top manufacturers of engine parts: Krueger Auto Parts. Even without a fancy degree, I could do the job of running the shipping and manufacturing warehouses in every town I was sent to, and soon I was brought to work in their corporate headquarters in Los Angeles.
I worked my ass off, coming in early every morning and staying late every night. I took on all the shit assignments nobody wanted to do and volunteered to work weekends and even holidays. I climbed up the ranks faster than anyone had ever seen, and by the age of thirty, I was running the motorcycle parts division for Krueger.