The Bachelor Contract (The Bachelors of Arizona Book 3)

by Rachel Van Dyken

  “I hate how that makes sense.”

  “Annie’s a distant cousin, not blood related.”

  “What?”

  “And Cole, well, Cole will have to tell you that story someday. But he’s the closest to the Titus blood line, I’m sure he had his reasons from keeping you in the dark. He doesn’t necessarily like telling people his connections with one of the richest families in the U.S.”

  “Is that what this is about? Cole leaving?”

  “Like I would ever abandon you,” Cole said. “You look like a princess.”

  “Snow White,” Nikki offered for him. “Does that mean I’m really pale?”

  “You’re perfect.” Cole leaned in and wrapped an arm around her. “Are you ready?”

  “For what?”

  He paused and then said, “Everything.”

  They walked in silence and then the familiar scents of the Zen room, the peppermint and the lemon, hit her senses, making her feel instantly at ease.

  “Do me a favor, Nik,” Cole whispered in her ear. “Be brave.”

  Nadine Titus’s words rang out in her mind as Cole released her arm and took a step back.

  “What’s going on?”

  “I thought it made sense, having your best friend of four years walk you toward me.” Brant’s gruff voice pounded in her ears, making her heart leap in her chest. “After all, he refuses to let me forget that the day I walked away, he stepped in, and for that I’ll never forgive myself. And I’ll always be forever in his debt.”

  Don’t cry. Do. Not. Cry.

  “The thing is.” Brant was suddenly a blur of black and white in front of her. He smelled like heaven. He smelled like memories. He smelled like her best mistake—and greatest triumph. He smelled like the rest of her life—her future. “I love you.” Her heart stopped and then slammed so hard she had to suck in air to remember to breathe. “But pressuring you into staying with me, seducing the hell out of you, tying you to my bed, while they all sound like the best ideas I’ve ever had—they aren’t practical, and they don’t involve one very important thing.” He sighed, his fingertips grazing her chin as he tipped her face toward his body. “True love doesn’t trap. It doesn’t bribe. It offers a choice.”

  A folder of papers were set in her right hand, and her fingers curled around it. “Our marriage contract is in here, along with a check for the money that should have been yours the minute you signed the divorce papers four years ago. I was too lost in my own grief to double-check that things were taken care of. I ignored my lawyer’s calls, and finally he stopped calling.”

  “We really are still married,” she said in a stunned voice, suddenly needing to sit down. What did that mean? What did any of it mean?

  “But we don’t have to be,” he said, quietly shattering her heart into a million pieces.

  Tears welled. She couldn’t speak.

  “This is your choice, Nik. In that folder is our marriage contract and our divorce papers. Sign them, and the settlement of twenty million dollars is yours.”

  She gaped.

  “Or—” Movement happened in front of her and then he took her left hand and lowered to one knee. “You could make me the happiest man alive, and marry me again, right here, right now, in front of all of our friends.”

  Her right hand felt heavy with the documents, with the past that was included in them.

  Her left—light.

  “I’m not perfect.” She clung to his voice like a lifeline. “I think we both know that I don’t deserve you, but I want to spend the rest of my life proving to you that you’re worth it, that love is worth it. I want to prove—” His voice hitched. “I want our little boy when he looks down from heaven to see his mama in love. I want him to know that his dad tried the hardest to make her smile, so she forgets all the days—years—that he made her cry.” Tears fell in rapid succession down her cheeks. “Nikki, will you marry me? Again?”

  The contracts fell out of her hands, making a slapping noise on the floor, and then she was on her knees reaching for Brant, trying to find his face, but before she could find his mouth, it was already pressed against hers in a healing kiss.

  A kiss of both closure and new beginnings.

  “Yes,” she whispered against his lips. “I’ll marry you…again.”

  He slid a ring on her left hand, linking his fingers between hers, deepening the kiss, and then he grabbed her right hand and pressed it against his chest.

  It felt just like her shirt.

  She skimmed her fingertips down.

  It was in Braille, too!

  She knew it!

  Still kissing him, she felt out the word and then gasped against his mouth, and tried like hell to keep herself from crying harder. “Groom. Your shirt says groom.”

  “Care to guess what yours says?”

  “Sexy?” she teased.

  “Not enough space to put all the adjectives, Nik, but I kept one of the most important ones.” He grabbed her hand and slid her fingertips across the word.

  “Bride.” She sucked in a harsh breath. “Well, that could have been awkward had I signed those contracts, huh?”

  Their laughter floated between them, and then they were kissing again, the contracts forgotten. And the people waiting outside the room completely forgotten.

  Until a certain shrill voice yelled, “Well!? Did she say yes?”

  “Nadine.” They said the word in unison, like a curse, but with humor in their voices.

  “She’ll just fight her way past Cole if we don’t let her in.” Brant stood and helped her to her feet. “Besides, we have a wedding to get to.”

  Nikki froze. “Today?”

  “Yup.” His grip tightened. “I hope you like your dress.”

  The minute the door to the Zen room was pushed open, she was hauled away from Brant amid cheers and bursts of color.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  The minute Nikki was ushered into the hotel’s bridal suite she felt like crying.

  How often had she avoided this very room?

  And now? Now it was hers to enjoy.

  “Ladies!” Nadine let out a piercing whistle. “We have ten minutes.”

  “Ten minutes?” Nikki shrieked.

  “I’ve thought of everything,” Nadine said. “Though Brant picked out the dress.”

  A blur appeared in front of her. A red blur.

  That man. She loved that man. “My dress is red.”

  “He said he wanted you to be able to see it,” Nadine whispered as sniffles sounded around the room. “And apparently bright colors were all over the runway this spring, so I allowed it.”

  Well, that and she was a matchmaking psychopath. Brant could have asked to get married underwater and the woman would have been okay with it as long as she could plan everything.

  Nikki reached out and touched the silky material. It was so smooth against her fingertips. It had to be expensive. There were thick straps that crisscrossed around the neck and down the back of the dress.

  When she was done touching it, the dress was jerked from the hanger, and suddenly hands were everywhere as the shirt she was wearing was whisked away and the wedding dressed was smoothed over her body.

  The dress fit perfectly.

  “Jane!” Nadine called. “The shoes!”

  “These,” Jane’s voice came from behind her, “are your something borrowed. They’re the first shoes Brock bought me and kind of how our story started. I know they’ll be perfect with this dress.”

  “Thank you,” Nikki breathed as she stepped into the tall heels.

  Margot was next. “And this dress is clearly your something new. When Brant said he wanted something red, well, I begged him to help pick it out. He was one of my best friends when we were in high school—I’ve never seen him look at a woman the way he looks at you, it was an honor.”

  “Thank you.” Nikki sniffed. “All of you. I don’t know what to say.”

  “Welcome to the family,” Margot whispered.

 
“No!” everyone yelled all at once, as Nikki reached to touch her face.

  “No.” Nadine slapped her hands away. “Don’t ruin your makeup. No more tears. All right, ladies, let’s do this.”

  * * *

  It felt like an eternity.

  It had been twelve minutes.

  Bentley elbowed Brant. “Stop sighing, it’s depressing as hell. She said yes, which usually means she’s going to be walking down the aisle pretty soon.”

  “Right.” Brant swallowed the dryness in his throat. “But—”

  “She’ll be here,” Brock said sternly.

  Cole shrugged from his spot on Nikki’s side of the aisle. “Or she could have used the getaway car I left for her.” All three men glared at him. “Sorry, too soon?”

  Brant rolled his eyes.

  And then the wedding march sounded.

  “Holy shit.” Brant breathed out a pained exhale and waited.

  “Maybe save the romancing for later.” Cole nodded. “And the shits.”

  Bentley nodded to Cole. “Brant. We’re adopting him later. Already got the paperwork.”

  Brock covered a laugh with a cough as the hotel staff stood and waited.

  Grandfather held out his arm to Nikki and slid her hand through it. Then he kissed her on the cheek and whispered something in her ear that had tears filling her eyes.

  Seeing those tears brought him back to what his grandfather had said earlier that day.

  “Son.” Tears filled Grandfather’s eyes. “Had I not been too hard on you, this may have all been avoided.” He shook his head. “But I can’t bring myself to say sorry.”

  A stunned Brant waited in silence for whatever his grandfather was going to confess next.

  “Four years ago you were a boy trying to prove you were a man.” His eyes locked onto Brant’s. “Today, you’re a man saying good-bye to the boy.”

  Those words. They were words Brant would never forget. And this vision in front of him, of Nikki walking with his grandfather, would be burned into his memory forever and always.

  When they finally reached them, Brant’s fingers itched to grab her hand, to hold it close, to promise to never let go.

  Cole stepped down and grabbed Nikki’s other hand. She gasped and then laughed through her tears.

  The hotel chaplain smiled at them. “Who gives this woman?”

  “Her grandfather and I,” Cole said in a loud voice. “Her best friend.”

  Nikki tucked her head against Cole’s chest and sighed as he kissed her temple.

  Grandfather joined Cole on Nik’s side of the room, still standing up front since she truly had no family that would accept her after she married Brant—and though Brant had invited them at the last minute, even offering to pay for everything, he’d still been given the cold shoulder.

  It didn’t matter. Because he and Nikki were a family again. A true family.

  “I almost forgot.” Brant reached into his pocket and placed a charm bracelet in Nikki’s hand. “Your something blue.”

  Her fingers ran along little hands praying, with the name Noah in Braille, across the single silver and blue charm.

  She covered her mouth with her hands as a sob escaped.

  “He’s here.” Brant was barely able to get the words out. “With us. He’s here, and I’d like to think he’s really excited that his mom and dad finally figured out what he figured out a long time ago.”

  “What’s that?” she whispered.

  Brant squeezed her hands. “Love never dies.”

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  The wedding was perfect.” Nikki shook her head at her husband. Her husband.

  It had been a busy day, and while she wanted to celebrate with family, a part of her, a large part of her, really wanted to just be with Brant.

  Instead she’d just sat through the longest meal of her life.

  “Toasts!” Nadine yelled. “We have to do toasts.”

  “No, we don’t, nope.” Grandfather held out his hands. “Why don’t you just calm yourself down and get another glass of wine?”

  “This man,” Nadine snorted. “Always trying to get me soused.”

  “She’s quieter when she’s drunk, if you can believe that,” Grandfather said.

  “Does she even know what that is? Quiet?” Brock wondered aloud as a glass of wine was placed in Nikki’s hand.

  “You have a funny look on your face,” Brant whispered in Nikki’s ear. “Thinking about something?”

  “You mean other than leaving and having you all to myself?” She leaned into him and pressed a kiss against his neck.

  He moaned and then gripped her thigh underneath the table. She let out a harsh breath and shook her head.

  “Room,” Cole’s voice interrupted. “We have a few hundred, take your pick, just don’t have sex on the table.”

  “Some of the best sex I’ve ever had has been on a table,” Nadine piped up.

  “More wine?” Brock asked in a cheerful voice. Had she already finished that last glass?

  “So, Cole.” Nadine’s voice lit up with excitement. “That Annie is quite special, isn’t she?”

  “Nope,” Cole snapped. “Dig your claws into me and I’ll only bleed. Can’t you see I’m heartbroken? My best friend just married a Wellington.”

  “Yes, but our families are finally playing nice again. You can tell your father to stop playing his games—besides, now that I’ve got Brant working for me things are even.”

  “Father?” Brant asked. “Cole’s last name is Masters.”

  Nadine smirked. “His legal name is Cole Masters Titus, the third.”

  “What?” Shrieks were heard around the table.

  Then Bentley burst out laughing. “Holy shit, we adopted the enemy.”

  “Trust me, I’m very distantly related, I haven’t seen Nadine in years,” Cole answered, and then sighed with longing. “They were such quiet years. Happy years filled with laughter and—ouch!”

  “Yes, well, now you’ll be lucky to get rid of me,” Nadine said in that haughty voice of hers.

  “Any more of that wine left?” Cole asked the table.

  Nikki couldn’t stop smiling. Oddly, it made sense he would be a Titus. He was an amazing manager, and he hadn’t been worried about the buyout at all.

  “Let’s go somewhere,” Brant whispered in her ear.

  “Yes.” She stood and let him lead her away.

  “We’re going to get some fresh air,” he said to the table.

  “Sure you are,” Bentley called back. “Let us know how all that hundred-and-five-degree fresh air feels in that three-piece suit.”

  They left as the jokes kept piling on top of one another. She assumed they were going to his room, but instead he veered down the hall and into the spa.

  “Brant?”

  “Shh.” He opened and then closed a door. “I’ve been wanting to do this for days.”

  His hands were all over her, unzipping her dress, caressing her breasts, licking her neck, kissing her lips.

  “My massage room? Really?”

  “Where it all began,” he said in a husky voice. “Now, get on the table.”

  Anticipation exploded within her. “Are you serious?”

  “I’m going to put my hands on you. Torture you. Bring you to the brink of ecstasy so fast that you fall apart, and then I’m going to walk out of here and show you the real meaning of torture, just like you did to me the first time I walked into this room.”

  Nikki tipped her head back and laughed as Brant lifted her and gently placed her onto the table. And then he was on top of her, pressing her body against the cool sheets as he rubbed his hands up and down her shoulders. Then he was weighing her breasts, tasting them, sucking, driving her crazy as his lips moved across her most sensitive parts only to retreat and meet her mouth again.

  “Brant!” She forgot what she was going to say when he tugged her expensive lingerie from her body and then kissed her harder.

  She reached for his p
ants. “No more kissing, I need you.”

  “But I was going to torture you.”

  “Four years” was all she said.

  And then he was helping her unzip his pants as he released himself and then slid into her with one earth-shattering thrust.

  “We can always make up for it later.” She moved with him, his rhythm fast, strong, unwavering, as pleasure rolled and rocked between the two of them.

  “I’ll always love you.” His hands dug into her hips as he lifted her body to his one final time.

  “Forever,” she whispered against his mouth as he swallowed her cry of pleasure.

  Panting, both of them were silent for a few seconds before Brant finally spoke. “Again.”

  “But—”

  “Fresh air takes a hell of a lot longer than five minutes. Sorry, there’s just something about this table.”

  She reached out and massaged his shoulders.

  “Fuck.” He hung his head, touching hers. “Or maybe it’s just your hands.” He lifted her hand, pressed her palm to his mouth, and kissed it. “Or just everything.” He took her other hand. “I spent four years trying to drink you away.”

  “How’d that work out?” she breathed against his mouth.

  “I tried to forget—and only ended up remembering…I remember it all, the soft cries you make during sex, the way you sing in the shower, how you dance in the kitchen when nobody’s looking—I remember it all and I’m a fucking fool for ever thinking I wanted to forget.”

  “I love you so much.” She kissed him.

  And kissed him again.

  Jane isn’t entirely sure that Cinderella got such a raw deal. Didn’t she eventually land a prince and a happily-ever-after? But while Brock Wellington isn’t exactly a prince and there’s definitely no fairy-tale ending…no one says they can’t indulge in a little bit of fantasy.

  An excerpt from The Bachelor Auction follows.

  Chapter One

  He’s senile. Last night he asked if I believed in unicorns.”

  Brock suppressed a groan at Bentley’s insensitive statement. No doubt about it, or way around it. Their grandfather, the CEO of Wellington, Incorporated, was losing his damn mind.