Rekindled: A Billionaire Second Chance Romance

by Ashlee Price

"Oh, caught it on something sharp underneath the crib. I was looking at it to see how it came apart and caught my finger. It's fine. Just startled me more than anything."

  I took her finger and kissed it, her drop of blood on my lower lip. She started at it a moment, and then couldn't help herself; she stood on tip-toe and kissed me.

  I had so much emotion bottled up inside that this was all I needed. I lifted her off her feet and wrapped my arms around her, gathering her thick hair into one hand and letting it fall like a white curtain over us. Rolling onto her bed, I pulled her with me. She didn't fight, just lay back with a sigh of contentment. I tugged and soon had our clothes on the floor. "Let me love you here, in this house, just once," I said in a low voice. "You don't know how many times I dreamed of doing just that."

  Callie looked up and nodded, folding her arms around the back of my neck and pulling me down upon her. I was afraid I'd hurt her, so I put the majority of my weight on one side.

  "Michael, I want to feel you inside me, as deep as you can go."

  I nodded. I could feel that she was already wet and waiting. As I slid in, she wriggled around, offering me angles to penetrate. It was the best feeling I could possibly imagine, and I wanted to hold still and stay like that permanently. The image of our being hooked together like two mating dogs went through my head and I chuckled.

  "What?" she whispered, stiffening.

  "No, no, relax. You feel so good I want to stay in you forever. A picture just went through my head of us hooked together like dogs."

  She burst out with a loud laugh and wrapped her legs around my waist. "Here, let me see if you can carry me."

  I took her up on it, inching to my feet with her wrapped around my middle and me still deeply seated inside. "You fit like the missing puzzle piece, lassie."

  "Oh, thanks, now I'm a piece of an old puzzle?"

  "You've always been... I'm just now realizing that. I've been such an ass, lassie. I don't know why you have anything to do with me at all."

  "Because you feel good inside me," she teased, and I pumped her hard to reward her.

  Her head fell back and her long hair cascaded behind her. She was like a beautiful china doll, and I wanted her with me always. I walked to the edge of the room and pushed her bottom onto the top of the dresser. It was exactly the right height and I could pull her hard against me as I penetrated her. I wanted her... more... faster... deeper, and her soft cries of pleasure just maddened me to give her more. "Michael!" she cried out, and then began to spasm as her orgasm broke. I felt the hot flood of fluid surround me and it was my undoing. My own spasms began - that excruciating pleasure that only came when you were with someone you truly cared about. She was that for me. No other woman had ever brought me close to what Callie made me feel. I was sucked into her world and didn't want to leave. More importantly, I didn't want her to leave me.

  Chapter 19

  Callie

  Maggie Stephens met me in the driveway, the horse trailer behind the truck. Michael was following in his car. This load was household things; Hector would come next.

  She was tall, thin and rather pale-looking for a woman who spent at least half of her year in sunny Florida. With a nervous smile, she waved and came toward the truck. "Where's the baby? I was hoping you'd bring him."

  "He's with a friend right now, while I move."

  "Awww... well, we'll see him soon enough. I just love babies. Here now, I can't keep you standing around visiting. Let me show you your house so you can get started putting in your things. It's not fancy, but you're allowed to paint, paper... anything you like. There's an attic over my garage and it's filled with things that were in the main house when we bought it. You're welcome to go up and pull down anything you'd like to use."

  "You're very kind. I'm sure we'll be fine."

  "You father; how is your father doing?"

  "Much better, thank you. He'll be home, well, here, in probably a couple of months, and then he can help me. He's a fairly well-known trainer around here."

  "Oh, that would be great. We can never have too much help, and his knowledge will come in useful."

  Michael walked up behind me and cleared his throat. "Oh, I'm sorry. Mrs. Stephens, this is Michael Shannon. Michael and I grew up together, and it was his putting the word out that brought me to you."

  "Michael," she put out her hand and he shook it. "Nice to meet you."

  "The pleasure is mine. Don't mean to cut this short, but we have a few loads and it's starting to get dark, Callie. I can give you a hand tonight, but tomorrow I've got class and you have to pick up the baby."

  "Oh, of course," Mrs. Stephens clutched her bony throat and started walking toward the barns. I followed, assuming that she was leading me to the house. "You can pull right up to the door if you like," she called over her shoulder.

  The farm manager's house resembled a cottage from a fairy tale book. It was built from stone and probably dated back to the years when slave walls were built prior to the Civil War. So much of central Kentucky still held these old buildings, or at least foundations. The roof was covered with red tile, molded from the red clay soil found throughout this side of the state. It would easily stand another two hundred years. Mrs. Stephens, or Maggie, as she asked me to call her, opened the door and then handed me the key she'd used. It was far more spacious inside than I'd expected, mainly due to a more modern addition at the back. There were floor-to-ceiling windows with a sliding door that looked out over the acreage; pastures and barns. I could see they had a tobacco base and an accompanying barn off in the distance. I'd stripped many a tobacco plant as a young girl to earn extra money. There were three bedrooms of equal size, two at one end of the house and one in the newer section. I assigned that one to Dad so he could look out the bigger windows while he was on the mend. The baby would be in the room next to mine.

  There was an eat-in kitchen with plenty of room for a nice-sized table, and all the appliances were modern and state-of-the-art. There was central air, evidenced by the cooler temperature inside. A moderately-sized living room had a stone fireplace, which explained the pile of firewood stacked against the end of the house I'd seen as we drove up. A bathroom with a tub and shower combination, sink and commode sat in the center of the house. Everything was compact, but clean and well-taken care of.

  "It's lovely," I said. "Thank you so much for allowing me to take this position. You won't be sorry. Between Dad and I, there isn't a thing we don't know about horses or caring for a farm like this."

  "Oh, it's our pleasure, to be sure. I thought we might fence in an area by the patio where your little one can play when he's big enough."

  "That would be really great. Well, Michael and I had better get started. If your offer about using some of the older furniture stands, I'd like to go up and see what there is in the way of beds or maybe a sofa or table. I'm afraid everything we had belonged with the old house."

  "May I ask a question, Callie?"

  "Of course."

  "Why didn't the former farm just hire you in place of your dad?"

  I blushed. "I can handle a farm this size, but the Smithfields run about thirty horses, some milk cows and about a hundred chickens. That would have been too much for me to handle on top of the other things I do. I hope this isn't a problem?"

  "Oh, no, no... was just wondering. I didn't get the details of your situation other than who was coming and that you'd begin moving in today. As for that, we're leaving for Florida next Thursday, so you have time to settle in and get acquainted before you take over."

  "Thank you. Michael?" I finished, looking to him for help, but he was out in the yard, already shouldering in some boxes.

  "Men," Maggie exclaimed. "They can't stand still for a second. Come with me and I'll show you the ladder to the garage attic."

  I found just about everything I needed in the attic and called to Michael to help me bring it down. I was so glad he was there to help. The furniture was older, but well-made and perfectly solid. I found
two double-sized four-poster beds, a couple of over-stuffed wing chairs, and a small dining room table with leaves for when company came; it included six chairs. There were two matching loveseats that I thought would be perfect facing one another before the windows. At the last minute, I unearthed a coffee table and two bedside tables. It seemed like it had all been waiting for me.

  Michael carried everything himself, refusing to let me help. "Just point where you want it," he said, and I did exactly as he asked. I busied myself putting away dishes, pots and pans and the boxes of food for the cupboard. We'd not had much in the refrigerator, so I'd left that behind. I would go to the grocery before I picked up Josiah.

  I did have some lamps, and once I'd put out our little knick-knacks of pictures, a mantle clock and a few porcelain pieces my mother had collected, things looked quite cozy. There were white ruffled curtains at all the windows, as well as blinds, and I thought they'd do quite well for the moment. There were no dressers, but I could make do with the hanging rod in the closet and perhaps a few boxes turned on their sides until I could find some used ones.

  Maggie had wished us goodnight and gone back to the main house to fix dinner. Michael and I closed up and then headed back to the Smithfield farm to get the last of my things, and Hector.

  Bringing Hector allowed me to get my first look at the horse barn. Like many in that part of the country, it was more ornate than our little house. The walls were paneled in cherry, and each of the stalls had oil paintings on its back wall and velvet ropes to hold the horses in place. There was a small pool with a ramp where the horses could be bathed and exercised. This was nicer than at the Smithfields'!

  The farm manager's office was also housed here. It was a separate room with glass in the top half of the interior walls so I could see all the horses at a glance. There was a desk with an executive chair, a computer, a small television, and a door that led to the tack room. I found a vacant stall for Hector away from the others and bedded him down for the night on his own. He needed to get used to the others before I let them get too chummy.

  Michael let out a low whistle between his teeth. "Looks a lot like Dad's place, just smaller," he said admiringly. "I think you've done yourself proud, lassie. How many people are you supervising?"

  "Don't know for sure yet. I know there are at least two stable boys, and then more farmhands down at the edge of the property living in a bunkhouse. They see to the tobacco and some livestock, as well as keeping the grounds landscaped and buildings in repair. From what I understand, I'll manage everything, make up work orders, do payroll and such, but the only thing I'll touch hands-on will be the horses. They're my special domain."

  "All thoroughbreds?"

  "Yes. They're bringing two more up from Florida when they come back this time. I think they want to try the tracks up here. Hopefully Dad will be well enough to be home. Even from a wheelchair, he can give me some pointers and advice."

  "You've done him proud, lassie," Michael complimented me.

  "Thank you. I'd invite you to stay, but I'm pooped and I have to get the trailer back to the Smithfields' and close up the house, turn in the key, etc. Did I tell you that Mr. Smithfield stopped by to tell me that he's setting up a modest retirement income for Dad? He said Dad had been with them for thirty years and deserved some security."

  "No, you didn't. That's really good news."

  "Just about everything in my life right now is perfect, Michael."

  "Is that so? Does that include me?"

  "Most especially you, big guy. I don't know what I would have done without you. You really saved us."

  "All in a day's work when you're Superman," he teased me, and I slapped him playfully on the rump. His response was to stop dead, twirl and pick me up, holding me over his head as though I was flying. I shrieked and he laughed hard, lowering me, but not before kissing me in my crotch area. "Mmmm... wish I had time to taste a little of that right now."

  "You're incurable, you know that?" I pushed at him and stepped back. "Now, don't forget... you're talking to a manager now. I have to be aware of my surroundings and set a good example."

  "What does that mean?"

  "That, my dear Michael, means no diddling in the hay, no pulling down my pants or lifting my shirt for a feel."

  "Would I do that?"

  "Have you?" I answered.

  "Good point." He kissed me hard and slapped me on the butt. "Good night, Miss Manager. Be good, and I'll talk to you tomorrow."

  Chapter 20

  Michael

  It was Dad's name on the caller ID.

  "Hello, Dad."

  "Michael, I want to talk to you."

  "Go ahead."

  "Not on the phone, damnit!"

  "Then where?"

  "Come out to the farm. It's been a while since you've been home anyway. I'll see you in an hour." The line went dead.

  I looked at the pile of books on the foot of my bed. I was knee-deep in studying for the upcoming exams, but Dad didn't seem to care what happened outside his own world. Now that I was out of football, I was taking enough credits to get my degree the next year. Then it was law school, the bar exam, and I'd be done. I had long-term plans, but for the moment, I was keeping my eye on the ball.

  I sighed and dressed quickly, pulling on jeans and a Ralph Lauren sweater. Dad's voice had suggested anger more than anything else, and I wondered what was going on.

  I pulled into the farm drive an hour later. The long drive was lined with dogwood, dotted by solar landscaping lights. I pulled up to the three-story house's wide porch and saw that most all the lights in the house were on.

  I knocked and then entered. "Mom! Dad! It's me."

  Mom came to the landing at the top of the staircase. "Good to see you, son, but no time to visit just now. Your dad is in his study. Go on in."

  I found him in his tufted leather chair, a nearly empty bottle of bourbon on the desk in front of him. "Come in, Michael. You're late."

  I stood in the doorway, my hands in my pockets, deciding whether I wanted to stay or just leave. He was too drunk to make much sense, and I really didn't want to have an argument.

  "Come in, I said!" He was angry. He seldom shouted.

  I shrugged and went in, taking the chair opposite his desk. "Dad, this is exam week. I really don't have much time. I have to study."

  "I don't give a shit what you have to do. You don't need to go to college, Michael. Everything you need is right here," he said, sweeping his arm about himself to indicate the farm.

  "Dad, why don't you cut to the chase and let me know why I've been summoned?"

  "I'm running this meeting, young man, not you. You certainly have gotten full of yourself. I don't like it. Not one bit."

  I decided to wait until he'd spent his anger. He was likely to lecture me for a while on whatever had him upset and then he'd wind down and give me some sort of ultimatum. I'd swear to be good and be on my way in thirty minutes or so.

  "I'm hearing some talk about you and that Tucker girl," he finally said. At least now I knew why he was upset.

  "If you mean Callie, she and I have been friends for years."

  "She's nothing for you to spend time with now. You have far better options."

  "Callie is a wonderful woman and I admire her greatly."

  "Don't care."

  "Well, you'd better care. I intend for her to be in my life for some time."

  "I demand you stay away from her!"

  I leaned forward, putting my hand on the highly polished surface of his desk. "Just what is it that you have against her?"

  "Her? I don't give a blue-eyed damn about her. She's not even trailer park trash. It's that she is keeping you from courting the women you should be seeing. I want grandchildren, and I'm not going to wait forever."

  I sat back and actually laughed. "Dad, you think you're going to put me out to stud like one of your stallions? Oh, c'mon, you know me better than that. I know what I want, and I generally get it."

  "No
t this time."

  "Beg your pardon?"

  "You leave her alone."

  "And if I don't?"

  "I'll see to it you don't get your inheritance."

  Now I saw his game. "Good luck with that, Dad. Grandfather saw to it that it would come to me without your permission or control."

  "Don't press me on this, Michael."

  "Dad, don't you press me on this. I'll make these decisions for myself - and all others from now on. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to get back so I can study."

  I got up and turned to go.

  "I'll get you expelled."

  I froze. Now that he could do. A word to his alumnus friends and there would be drugs in my room, or maybe a copy of an exam I had yet to take. It would take me out of circulation long enough that he'd bring me back under control.

  I kept walking and slammed the front door behind me. If he wanted to ruin me, he'd ruin himself with the same wicked stroke. It was up to him, and there wasn't much I could do about it - nor was I willing to try. If Dad wanted war, then he would become the casualty.

  There were, after all, other options.

  Chapter 21

  Callie

  I was settled nicely in the cozy house on the Stephens farm. The couple went out of their way to make us feel at home. Maggie begged to hold Josiah, and she cuddled him with all the excitement of a grandmother. By the end of the day, she had gone shopping and returned with a bag full of toys. "I hope you don't mind if I spoil him just a little?" she asked, her eyebrows raised to seek my permission.

  "No, it's fine. He doesn't get very much spoiling, I'm afraid."

  "It's just that, well, it doesn't look like I'm ever going to have any grandchildren, so this is as close as I get."

  "Josiah can use as many grandparents as possible." Of course, Josiah had Dad, but he was still in the hospital and would be in rehab for some time. Children grow quickly, and at that young age, they forget people. He wasn't really Clayton's son, and anyway the Pierces had made it very clear they wanted nothing to do with Josiah or with me. Michael's parents had no idea they had a grandson, which left Josiah out in the cold. Sometimes I wondered whether I had done him a kindness or made his life rougher by my parental decisions.