Billionaire Games

by Michelle Love

  Max reaches out and runs his hand over Zoey’s little head. “I can see that. I heard them screaming like you were trying to kill them, then they went quiet and for a second there, I was afraid you’d actually done it.” He laughs and I frown at him.

  “Max! Don’t be ridiculous!” I stop humming and say. The babies seem content and look around everywhere. “It’s taking me a while I know, but I’ll get the hang of this being a mother thing.”

  With a gentle kiss to my cheek, Max runs his arm around my shoulders and pulls me to him. “I know you will, baby. I have all the confidence in the world in you.”

  I’m glad he does. To tell the truth I’m afraid of just how long it’ll take to get into the groove!

  Max

  The year has flown by and the twins are in perfect health. I guess all my worrying about them was for nothing. Its odd how a person’s mind can be so consumed about what might happen that they stop wanting to live a life that’s full of people.

  I’d have it no other way now. I sit back and watch Lexi as she plays in the shallow pool that we had put in just for the babies. That girl was a mess at first. She couldn’t hardly get anything right with those babies. Then one day, out of the clear blue, she got it. She fell ass-backwards into motherhood, kinda like she fell into everything else.

  * * *

  This crazy woman is planning on filling this house with children. She can’t wait to have another baby, though her doctor is making her wait one more year before we get going on that. Lexi wants to do it all over again with a newborn since she thinks she’s discovered what she calls ‘my gift’ with babies.

  * * *

  She’s not quite as good as I am, but she’s getting better all the time.

  We take bets on who’s right about certain ways the babies cry. She almost always gets the wet diaper one right, but I get the hungry one right every time. We both get the cry when they’re tired, which is often.

  It’s hard to believe just how many years she and I have been together, off and on. Now it’s on and I’m never letting her go and I hope she feels the same way about me. I’m pretty sure she does too.

  “Come out here,” she shouts as she waves at me. “You won’t believe how they’re kicking like they know how to swim, the little geniuses.”

  I get up and go sit in the shallow water with my family.

  My family! Man, that took some damn time, didn’t it?

  Alexis

  Sunlight trickles into the bedroom as I watch my husband sleep, a toddler under each arm. Peaceful and quiet for now, but as soon as they wake up the whole mansion will be bathed in their laughter and the occasional screaming fight they have now and then. These two are both stubborn as mules and I have no idea where they got that from.

  Or do I? Perhaps their parents are a little bit on the stubborn side. Max more than me, obviously.

  We celebrated Zane and Zoey’s second birthday a couple of months ago. Then we got started on the next baby. When Max wakes up I have good news for him. I wonder just how happy he’ll be this time.

  I just told him yesterday that I’d not be taking a pregnancy test until I missed at least two periods, but I was two weeks late and got antsy to know for myself. So, I placed the positive pregnancy test on a tissue on the nightstand, hopefully Max will pick it up before one of the twins does.

  * * *

  I sit and watch just to be positive they don’t. Everything they get a hold of goes in their mouths and that might make me toss my cookies if that went into one of theirs.

  He’s starting to move a little and I can see his eyes beginning to open. Like every morning, he starts off kissing each of the little munchkins’ heads. His eyes meet mine and he says, “Good morning, beautiful. What are you doing? Watching us sleep?”

  With a nod, I say, “I woke up and went to the bathroom and couldn’t fall back to sleep.”

  Gently he slides his arm out from under Zane’s head, then does the same with Zoey. He climbs over Zane to get out of the bed without waking them up. “I can’t imagine that. These two woke us up three times last night, the little demons.”

  I watch as he walks right by the little pink stick on the night stand and rubs his eyes. “You may want to look on the night stand, if you want to know what kept me awake.”

  His nose wrinkles and his eyebrows come together. “What? Why is that?” He turns back and looks at the nightstand and then his face brightens. He looks back at me. “Is that what I think it is?” I nod and he goes to pick it up. “You said you weren’t going to do this yet.” He picks it up and the smile on his face lets me know he’s happy.

  * * *

  “Fertile Myrtle is your new nickname, Lexi.” He places the stick back on the tissue.

  “Nope,” I say, gesturing to the table. “Pick that thing up and take it to the bathroom and throw it away now that you know. I don’t want one of the twins to get it.”

  He laughs and picks it back up. “Straight into their mouths it would go, gross!”

  As he passes me, he stops and picks me up into his strong arms. “I love you, Lexi.”

  “I love you too, Big Daddy,” I say with a giggle.

  His lips touch mine and I’m lost, just like I always get when we kiss. This is it for us, marriage and family and all the ups and downs that go with that.

  And we couldn’t be happier!

  * * *

  The End.

  Billionaire`s Quarry

  A Billionaire Bad Boy Romance

  Intrigue. Indifference. In Denial.

  Mercy Noland is a twenty-six-year-old luxury spa manager with a couple of secrets that she keeps from most people. She inherited her young niece and nephew after a car accident took their parents. Her life revolves around her job and her kids, and nothing else.

  Jude Hurst is thirty years old, and a spoiled oil billionaire. Born into money, he’s never worked a day in his life for anything. Other than when he learned to hunt with his maternal grandfather. He meets Mercy and sets his sights on her from the beginning.

  Mercy has no room in her life for any man, much less a man who is not only out of her league but also on the dangerous side. With the loss of not only her sister but her parents, as well, to a tragic auto accident, Jude’s careless behavior isn’t a thing that she sees working in her little family.

  Can Jude make her see life is more than work and responsibilities? Or will Mercy make Jude see that she isn’t up to the task of being with any man? Find out how their story begins in the first book of, ‘The Billionaire’s Quarry.’

  The Prey Part 1

  Mercy

  When a two and a half-year-old little girl gets pissed everyone knows it. She makes sure of it. I inherited my niece and nephew two years ago when their parents and my parents were going out for a night on the town while I stayed home to babysit the two little ones. A terrible auto accident claimed all four lives that were in my father’s car that night. The accident changed me from the fun aunt to responsible mother in the blink of an eye.

  I’ve taken to it well, I think. It made me hurry up and figure out what’s real in this life. I was twenty-four when that happened. Still young and free, single and alone. With the responsibility of the kids, I grew up overnight.

  It became apparent that I needed to start making money. I had my business degree and had done nothing with it at that time. With a few interviews, I managed to gain a managerial position at a Dallas luxury spa and I’ve done well.

  I have to say the hardest part of being a parent is dropping the kids off at daycare. They just never seem to want to go. I suppose because it’s so early and they’d much rather be sleeping. I know I would.

  I have to get up an extra hour early every day to get them to their daycare so I can get to work. At times, I do wish I had help. A man to even out some of the chores that come along with taking care of a feisty four-year-old boy and a two and a half-year-old girl might be nice. But then, again he might just get in my way.

  Mia holds on t
ight to the car door as Carter stands in a sleepy daze, waiting for me to drag his sister away from the car and into the little building which they call home every Monday through Friday, from six in the morning until six at night.

  I wish there was another way but so far I haven’t found it.

  “Mia, Baby, please come on. Let go of the door, Honey. You’re going to have fun. You always do,” I beg her.

  “No! I want to go with you!” she screams at the top of her lungs.

  Another mother passes by as she takes her sleeping kids past us as quickly as she can. One crying kid can set off a chain reaction. No one wants that!

  She gives me the stink eye and I duck my head with feelings of inadequacy and continue to beg my niece to stop being a drama queen. “Mia, how about we make a deal? I promise to take you kids to the pizza place when I pick you up. You can play in the ball pit and I’ll give you all the tokens you want. Please!”

  “Do it, Mia,” Carter says with an air of authority in his four-year-old southern drawl with a slight lisp.

  Miraculously, she stops crying and screaming and says, “K.” Her hands release the car door and she turns to hang onto me, slipping her arms around my neck. “I wuv you, Aunt Mercy.”

  Running my hand over her disheveled blonde locks, I try to tame them a little. With her tantrum, one would never know I not only brushed her hair but ran my straightener through it too to calm her unruly curls into some type of submission. Now they’re everywhere like a wild child’s.

  Carter slips his hand into mine as we finally make our way up the sidewalk to the front door of the yellow building with a red roof. That’s how I initially got the kids to come inside of the building when we first came here, two years ago. It resembled a McDonald’s, and they didn’t cry one bit. Until I left them here that is.

  The kids suffer a bit from separation anxiety. We’ve been in counseling to help with that. When one’s parents walk out the door with a kiss and a hug and a promise to return but never do, it can leave a scar on your brain and your soul.

  Since I lost my mother, father, and only other sibling in the accident, I can empathize with the kids. It’s not easy to take each day as it comes. Sometimes you just want to kick something or someone because life doesn’t seem fair.

  Life is hard and you have to become hard to deal with it. I try not to let that philosophy of mine rub off on the kids. Mostly because our therapist told me not to. She’s pretty strict with me. She lets me know that I can grieve and feel somewhat sorry for myself now and then, but my main responsibility to the children my sister left behind is bigger than anything else.

  * * *

  She’s right and I know that. My sister, Hope, and I were only two years apart. She was the oldest, and I was the baby, though not treated very much like one. We were treated like twins. She and I looked a lot alike. And we wore the same size. I inherited her wardrobe as well as her kids so that was a plus as her husband kept her in the latest styles, a thing I couldn’t afford on a part-time salary as a waitress at that time.

  I spot the teacher for my niece’s room and hand her over. Mia is all smiles now as she goes to the older woman. “Hi, Mrs. Jensen. Guess what?”

  The woman smiles and tweaks her nose as she holds her on her hip. “What do you have to tell me, Mia?”

  With a huge grin, she says, “Aunt Mercy is taking us to get pizza and play games after school today.”

  “How nice of her,” she says then puts Mia down and sends her off to put her little backpack, filled with her things, away. “So, being a Friday, have you made any fun weekend plans?”

  I shake my head as I watch Carter go to his room down the hallway. “Bye, Carter. See you at six,” I call out after him.

  Just before he goes into the door he looks back at me and waves. My heart melts a little as I see he’s smiling as I guess he’s thinking about tonight and how much fun he’s going to have playing the games at the restaurant.

  Such little things can make them so happy, it’s amazing!

  * * *

  Mrs. Jensen takes my attention as she says, “You know, Mia, my daughter is taking some childhood development courses. She could use the practice and would babysit for free if you’d like to make some plans anytime. She’s free most every night. It would actually be a help to her as she has to clock a lot of hours with one-on-one time with children of various ages. It would help her a lot if you let her babysit even a couple of weekends a month.”

  “The kids already have to spend so much time away from me because of work. I hate to do that to them,” I say as I turn to leave. “But thanks for telling me, anyway.”

  “Mia, you need a life, young lady,” she calls out after me.

  I wave back at her and walk away. No one knows what it’s like to have so much on your shoulders and be all alone with it. My life is with those kids. I am their life now and there’s really no room for anyone else, anyway.

  I suppose this is how spinsters are made!

  Jude

  The shrill sound of Ariel’s voice as she yells at the woman doing her pedicure has me flinching. I look at the phone in my hand as I sit in the chair across from her and try to act as if she’s not with me.

  “You’re a fucking moron!” she shouts.

  Briefly, I glance up and see the poor woman who has the misfortune of getting Ariel as her client today seems to be upset. Her hands are shaking and her face is pale. I should say something to Ariel about not treating people so harshly but then she might turn that nasty temper on me and I’d rather not deal with that.

  Ariel is from a wealthy family just like I am. Rich from birth has us a little less tolerable of people. I can’t explain it. It just is that way.

  I’m not as bad as she is, but then again I’m from Texas and she’s from New York. The south demands a certain amount of hospitality and manners whereas the New York socialites don’t seem to care too much about such things.

  I live in a monstrous mansion that my grandfather had built when they discovered oil on his ranch. Since that time, some sixty years ago, he managed to buy several more properties where oil was discovered and now we are rolling in the dough.

  I’ve lived a carefree life full of the things which come along with an endless supply of money. I’ve been to the best schools for reasons I do not know. College is where I met my occasional gal-pal, Ariel; she was an Art major. She nor I do anything with the degrees we’ve earned. I’m never going to do anything but live off the money that goes straight into accounts for me.

  My degree is nearly useless. To me it is, anyway. I hold a Masters in Kinesiology. I know every muscle and every way to get them in the best possible shape they can be in. I use the information I have acquired for myself and that’s about it.

  I’ve built a home gym others can only dream about. I also have a body most others can only dream about.

  Some might call me arrogant, but I think I’m just being honest about my fantastic attributes. I do work hard on making my body this buff after all. Why not be proud of basically the only achievement I’ve ever really made?

  I’m the oldest in my family of six. Mom and Dad are still together by some miracle and they had the four of us each three years apart. I just turned thirty a couple of months ago and we all went to Greece for the occasion.

  To say I’m spoiled is just a matter of opinion. Do I get anything I ask for?

  Well, yes I do. Do I ask for a lot of things?

  Again, the answer is yes. I want the latest things just like anyone else does. A robot butler, an expensive drone, expensive watches that I never wear. Those are things I like to call eccentric collections.

  They’re fun to purchase and mess with now and then. It makes life interesting. Much like Ariel is making the lives of the staff here at the Luxurious Dallas Day Spa interesting on this Friday afternoon.

  * * *

  With another quick glance at the shrieking Ariel, I see another young woman has joined the poor older woman who was doing Ariel�
��s toes. She seems as upset as the other woman and I don’t see how anyone will be able to calm the mad hen of a woman down.

  This is frustrating for me as I had high hopes this little spa day would settle her a bit. She’s had jet lag since she flew in last night and has been unable to satisfy my sexual needs.

  I foresee leaving her at the mansion on her own this evening and finding a hot night club full of women who’ve drunk away their inhibitions and are ready to get down and dirty with me. We’ll have to see how this plays out.

  “I want to speak to someone in management!” Ariel yells, drawing more little women out of their private little cubicles to see who is causing all this racket. “I will not tolerate being handled like a piece of crap!” She points at the shaking woman in front of her. “You have no business touching anyone’s feet! None, what so ever!”

  “I am so sorry, Mam. I didn’t even know I nicked your big toe. There’s no blood. There’s not even a red spot where you say I did that,” the woman says.

  I put my phone down to watch Ariel’s reaction to anyone telling her such a thing. This should be good!

  * * *

  “Listen to me, you little nitwit!” she shrieks at the top of her lungs. “How dare you tell me that I’m lying.”

  “No, Mam!” the woman says as she shakes her head and wrings her hands. “I did not say that, Mam! I never would say that.”

  “How can you say you didn’t call me a liar?” Ariel asks as loud as she can. “You told me there’s no blood or even a red mark. Do you think I can’t feel my own body? Do you think I can’t feel the horrible pain at the tip of my big toe where you cut it?”