“Exactly,” Jess says. “Enjoy this feeling. Enjoy your freedom and enjoy your glorious post-orgasmic glow.”
“Jess!” I exclaim, my cheeks flushing even more. She just laughs and waves a hand in front of her face.
“Did you think I couldn’t tell?”
I bite my lip and start laughing. Just then, the twins appear beside me and latch on to each of my legs. I laugh and start walking across the living room as they hold on, giggling the whole way. Jess shakes her head.
“They love you,” she says with a smile. “You’re great with kids.”
I sigh and ruffle Matt’s hair. “I was hoping to have one of my own by now,” I admit. My lips purse together and I lift my eyes up to Jess. “Looks like that’ll have to wait.”
“You never know,” she says with a grin. “You’re moving pretty fast with this clown of yours.”
I blush again and shake my head. “Not that fast.”
Jess laughs. “Come on,” she says. “I need to put those two in the bath. There’s some spaghetti on the stove if you’re hungry.”
“Thanks,” I say, handing off the twins to her waiting arms. I watch her walk down the halls and talk to her children and I feel something in the pit of my stomach. Owen appears and gives me a wave before following her to the bathroom. They have such a nice life together. Two beautiful kids, a supportive, loving husband – could I be jealous of Jess? I thought I had what she has, but it turns out all I had was betrayal and heartbreak.
My eyes flick to the brown paper package on the shelf and I shake my head. I walk to the kitchen and grab a bowl. My stomach growls in appreciation as I start spooning spaghetti into my dish.
My phone buzzes and I glance at the screen. A smile forms on my lips and the jealousy I felt a few minutes ago disappears. Dean’s name flashes on the screen.
I had a good time tonight.
I grin and type out my answer, holding my phone to my chest for a second as I remember the evening I just had. Life isn’t so bad, and Jess is right. Maybe my happily-ever-after isn’t so far away after all.
Chapter 29 – Dean
It feels like only a minute or two since Sam left when a knock comes on the door. I glance around the apartment as I walk towards the front door, wondering if she forgot something. I don’t see anything of hers and I grab the door handle with a grin across my face. I open the door, ready to see Sam’s smiling face.
“Mom!” I exclaim. “What are you doing here?”
“Good to see you too, Dean,” she says sarcastically, her eyes travelling down to my underwear. “Is that a way to greet your own mother?”
“What are you doing here?” I ask again. My whole body is tense as we stare at each other across the doorway.
“You’re not going to invite me in?” she replies. I pause for a moment before stepping aside. My mother walks into my apartment. I close the door and walk over to my discarded pants and pull them on, shimmying from side to side as I pull them up with one hand.
“Your father told me what happened yesterday,” she says as she sits on the edge of a chair, crossing her legs and folding her hands on top of her knee. Everything about her is perfectly manicured, with not a single hair out of place. All her movements are deliberate and she looks around the room with a hint of disgust on her face.
I grunt in response and grab the empty beer bottles from the coffee table to throw them out.
“Won’t you be reasonable, Dean? Your father is willing to take you back in at work if you just listen to what he has to say.”
“Reasonable?!” I exclaim as I drop the bottles in the garbage. “You want me to be reasonable?! I would say it’s reasonable to break up with someone who cheated on you. Wouldn’t you?”
My mother waves a hand dismissively and huffs. “You talk as if marriage is about love, Dean. This is so much bigger than that. We’ve had this planned since you were a child.”
“Did you ever consider what I might want? Maybe I don’t want to go into politics, maybe I do want to marry for love. What about that? Maybe I don’t want a wife who sleeps with other men in our own bed.”
“She made a mistake, Dean,” my mother says. “She shouldn’t have brought someone else back to your place.”
“But if she’d done it somewhere else it would be ok?” I spit back. “What if it had been me? What if it had been me who had cheated? How would her family react? Would the deal still be on?”
“You’d never do that, son, I know you wouldn’t.”
“That’s not the point, mom. The point is that if it had been me, they would be outraged and the deal would be off. There’s probably some morality clause that excuses us from the deal in this situation, isn’t there? But you won’t use it because you’re so fucking power hungry that you’d ignore what I actually want.”
My mother’s eyes narrow and her voice is low when she speaks.
“You’re forgetting that ‘what you want’ is only possible because of what your father and I sacrificed. Have some respect,” she spits the last word at me and then pats the sides of her head, smoothing her perfect hair back. “Dean,” she starts again, a bit more softly, “This is bigger than you. There are arrangements that can be made for marriages like this to work. Your father and I…”
“I don’t want to hear about your fucked up marriage, mother. Have you ever considered that I don’t want what you have? Maybe it isn’t worth it to me!”
My mother laughs. She sweeps her arm across the room and raises an eyebrow. “All this isn’t worth it? That nice black Bentley isn’t worth it? Those credit cards aren’t worth it? Let me teach you something, Dean,” she snarls as she gets up off the seat. She takes a step towards me and pokes her long fingernail into my chest. “You’ll see how worth it it is. You’re cut off.”
I open my mouth and close it again, frowning. “Cut off? What do you mean?”
“I mean it’s time to chop these apron strings, my dear son,” she says with a cruel smile. “No more trust fund. No more mommy and daddy. No more credit cards from our line of credit. Nothing. If you won’t be part of the family business and the family dynasty, then you are on your own. I’m giving you three months, Dean. After three months you’ll be ready to come back to the family.”
She pulls her hand back and turns on her heels, heading for the front door. I watch her walk away and watch the door swing shut. It’s not until I hear the elevator ding down the hall that I’m pulled out of my stupor. I shuffle to the front door in a daze and slide the lock closed before turning around in my apartment.
Cut off.
I’ve always felt independent, but she’s right. Everything is from the business accounts. The car, the apartments, the credit cards… none of it is mine. I have some savings, sure, but that won’t keep me going long. I put a hand to my head and let out a breath. I haven’t even realised how dependent I am on my parents until right now.
I’m being cut off.
Once the shock starts to wear off, anger starts curling around my stomach. My own mother is sucking me dry, cutting me off just because I won’t play along with their little power play! My parents don’t respect me as a person, or care how I feel – they only want their own fucking master plan to come to fruition.
“Fuck!” I yell, slamming my hand down on the counter. My heart is thumping in my chest and I take a few deep breaths, trying to figure out what I’ll do. I walk back and forth a few times and finally head out to the balcony. The cold night air fills my lungs and I take a deep breath, letting it cool my anger ever so slightly. I’m still shirtless, and within a few seconds, goosebumps start forming on my skin. I shiver, but I don’t go inside. The chill feels good and it helps to clear my head.
They may be cutting me off but that doesn’t mean I’m destitute. I have money, I have skills, I have contacts. I can find work for another firm and actually be independent for once. I can be my own man and not rely on my parent’s money to support me.
; As much as I’m hurt by my parent’s indifference, and as scared as I am about being on my own, there’s a sense of excitement that starts budding in the pit of my stomach. It’s about time I was my own man. Maybe my mother was right – it’s time to cut the apron strings.
Chapter 30 – Samantha
The days drag on until the weekend. Finally, it’s Friday and I pack an extra pair of underwear, deodorant, and a toothbrush in my purse. Just in case, I tell myself as my heart skips a beat. I walk out of my room and Jess winks at me.
“Have fun,” she says.
“I will,” I answer and kiss the kids’ heads. “I’ll see you later.”
I walk towards the front door and my eye catches the little brown box sitting on the shelf, exactly where I left it earlier this week. I pause, staring at it, and then shake my head. Not tonight. I don’t want to know what Ronnie sent me. I already know it would only upset me.
I head out to the waiting cab and give him the address of the restaurant. We pull up outside and I frown.
“Are you sure this is it?” I ask.
“This is Emilio’s on East 104th,” he replies in a gruff voice. I nod and pay him before stepping out. It’s not that it isn’t nice, it’s just that compared to the glamour of our last date, it’s a bit more understated. Who am I kidding, it looks completely run down. The paint is peeling and the sign looks like it’s about a hundred years old. If there wasn’t a light shining inside, I could have mistaken the restaurant for an abandoned building. I shake my head and smile. Even a couple dates in, I’m already expecting to be spoiled. I chuckle. I need to keep an open mind and be myself.
I head towards the restaurant door when I hear my name.
“Sam!” Dean is jogging down the street, one arm stretched above his head. He still has his sling on, and he’s holding his arm tight to his chest. My heart grows a few sizes as he gets closer. He wraps his arm around me and pulls me in for a kiss.
“Mmm,” he says. “You taste minty!”
I laugh. “I wanted to be prepared.”
Dean smiles and nods to the restaurant. “I know it’s a bit different from last time, but I know the owner and this is the best Italian food in Manhattan outside of Little Italy.”
“It looks great,” I say. “More my style.”
“Good,” he says. “Plus, I got fired. I’m on a budget now,” he laughs.
“Well don’t stretch yourself too thin,” I grin. “Dinner’s on me tonight.”
He opens the door and motions me through with a sweeping motion. I step through and we’re immediately greeted by a short bald man. He’s wider than he is tall and has bright red ruddy cheeks. He’s wearing a white apron and has a thick grey moustache.
“Mister Dean!” He calls out. His eyes swing over to me and he brings his hand to his heart and bows. I smile. “This must be your beautiful date. Please,” he says, extending a hand. I slip mine into his and smile as he leans over to kiss my hand. I giggle as his moustache tickles my hand and glance up at Dean. He shakes his head.
“Emilio, keep this up and I’ll be leaving here alone. You’ll steal her off me!”
“No, no, no! Come!” He motions us over to a table near the front of the restaurant. It’s beautifully set, with a rich white tablecloth and a candle flickering in the middle. There’s a single daisy in a simple vase, and red cloth napkins folded into an elaborate triangle on the plates. Emilio pulls out my chair and another waiter appears with wine. I grin at Dean.
“What did I tell you,” he says. “What are we having tonight, Emilio?”
“Tonight we have a delicious meal planned,” he starts. For the next couple minutes, he’s rattling off dishes and ingredients and wine pairings and I can hardly keep up. All I know is that it sounds delicious. Dean thanks him and he promises to check in with us again once we have our food. Dean smiles at me.
“I always have Emilio prepare a set menu when I come here. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Not at all,” I reply with a smile. My heart is beating in my chest and I put my hand across the table. Dean places his palm over mine and we stare at each other for a few moments.
I’m so happy right now. I feel so lucky! Coming to New York was the best decision I ever made. I lose myself in Dean’s eyes and all thoughts of Ronnie, the divorce, and that little brown box evaporate from my mind.
We have another spectacular meal, and after many thank yous and promises to come back, we leave Emilio and the staff behind. I put a hand to my stomach as I hook my other arm around Dean’s.
“That was amazing, but I feel like I could roll home.”
“It’s a lot of food,” Dean laughs. “Come on, Central Park is right here. Let’s go for a walk.”
It feels less like a walk and more like I’m floating through space. He interlaces his fingers into mine and I lean my head against his shoulder as we walk and talk and laugh. I don’t remember the last time I felt this good. I don’t know if it’s the wine, or Dean, or the beautiful starry night, but everything feels so perfect.
We walk wherever our feet take us, and soon Dean is hailing a cab and giving his address. My heart starts beating and I squeeze his hand, feeling the heat growing at the meeting of my legs. Dean looks down at me and smiles. His face drops and he looks at his cast, sighing.
“I can’t wait to get this thing off so I can fuck you properly,” he growls. My heart jumps and my centre blossoms with heat at his words. I can feel my cheeks flushing.
“Not too long,” I manage to reply. He smiles just as the cab pulls up outside his place. By the time we’re in the elevator, we’re clawing at each other’s clothes, crushing our lips together, tangling our fingers into each other’s hair.
“I don’t think you need two hands,” I say as the elevator opens. “You’re doing pretty well with just one.”
Dean grins and nods to his door. “Let’s go.”
Chapter 31 – Dean
Sam’s body has so many little secrets that I love discovering. There’s the freckles across her nose and the thousands of freckles that scatter across her chest. She has a mole on her left hip that I kiss gently, and a little patch of skin on her right thigh that’s impossibly soft. Every curve, every freckle, every inch of skin feels like it was made for me to worship. I run my hand all over her body as she watches me and I wish I could use both hands. I want to know her body as well as I know my own.
I’ve been dreaming of her taste ever since the first night, and I finally get to taste her again. We make love again and again, writhing and grinding and touching and kissing and coming until all my energy is spent. I sigh. All I can do is lay back and trail my finger back and forth along her side. She shivers and purrs against me.
“I had such a good time tonight,” she says.
“Me too. When do you have to work next?” I ask.
She lifts her head slightly and frowns at me. “Not till Monday,” she answer. “Why?”
“Stay with me,” I whisper. I’m not ready to let her go, not ready to watch her walk out the door. A smile breaks across her face and she nods.
“Ok.”
She puts her head back on my shoulder and I feel like it was made for her. I run my finger over and back across her body and she shivers again before her breath deepens and I know she’s asleep. I’m not far behind, falling into the deepest and most peaceful sleep I’ve had in months.
We spend the weekend just like that – eating and walking and talking and fucking over and over and over. I’m in heaven. I keep exploring her body and finding new things to love about it, and she keeps exploring mine. Sunday night comes too soon, and despite my protests, Sam kisses me goodbye.
“I’ll call you tomorrow,” she says.
“I wish you worked closer to here,” I say with a grin. “It’s so much better when you’re around.”
“Me too,” she smiles. With one more kiss, she walks out the door and heads home. I sigh, locking the door behind her and o
nce again turning around to my cold, empty apartment.
I head to my bedroom and flop down onto the bed. I should feel good, I know I should. I got a call last week from another firm who’s willing to give me an interview, I’ve spent the weekend with a gorgeous woman, and I’m finally living my life as my own man.
I should be happy, and I am! I am happy. I just can’t shake the feeling that it isn’t right. I don’t like fighting with my parents and the cruelty in my mother’s face when she left surprised me. I find it hard to believe that she would let me go so easily, when their entire future in politics relied on my marriage to Victoria.
With a deep breath, I try to put the thoughts behind me. I lay down in bed and I can still smell Sam’s perfume on the pillow. I smile and inhale deeply, already looking forward to seeing her again.
The next few weeks go by just like that. I end up finding a job at a rival firm and slip into a new routine at work. Sam and I see each other whenever we can, and she sleeps over on the weekends and a couple nights a week. My arm heals, and Sam comes with me to get the cast off. It’s easy, and without me even knowing when it happens, I realise I’m happy. I wake up one Sunday morning and turn to see Sam. She’s snoring lightly, her brown hair across the pillow like a brush stroke and her face completely peaceful as she sleeps. I take a finger and run it gently over her cheek, smiling as she shivers.
Her eyes flutter open.
“Hey,” she murmurs.
“Hey,” I answer. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”
“It’s ok. How’s the arm feeling today?”
I close and open my fist a few times and shrug. “A bit stiff but it’s ok. I’ll do the exercises the doctor gave me and it should loosen right up.” She nods and rolls onto her back, stretching her arms overhead. I drag my eyes over her body as she groans. She turns around suddenly, holding a hand to her mouth. She sits up and swings her legs over the edge of the bed.
“What’s wrong?” I say, concerned.
She shakes her head and slowly lowers her hand. “It’s nothing. Thought I might have to run to the bathroom but I think I’m safe.”
Knocked Up by the Billionaire's Son: A Secret Baby Romance Page 11