Bad Billionaires Box Set

by Elise Faber

  And she probably never would have spoken to him again at all if he hadn’t messaged at one of her lowest times.

  A torn rotator cuff.

  A hugely significant tear that had required surgery.

  She remembered being helped into a sling by the sports therapist, Sally, pain scorching her left arm with each tiny adjustment, but that hurt had been eclipsed by the conversation echoing through the closed door to her coach’s office.

  The voice that had been alternately stunned then shocked into silence then furious when her coach told her parents she’d been injured.

  “What do you mean, it serves her right?” he’d shouted, making her wince and Sally apologize for hurting her.

  CeCe hadn’t the heart to tell Sally that her shoulder was nothing when compared to knowing that her parents were coldhearted assholes who just couldn’t put their own egos aside to love their daughter as she was.

  It had been stupid to hope, to dream that her parents might one day see reason and find a way to care for her.

  But that wasn’t possible.

  And Colin had made it easier for her to shed that desire, to tuck it away and move forward and work harder.

  She’d never reached out to her parents again. Not after the surgery, not after the physical therapy, not after all the blood, sweat, and tears had left her with a shoulder that would never be good enough to swim competitively. And not after her scholarship was rescinded and the bills piled up and she’d been alone.

  Warm fingers brushed her cheek. “I don’t care where you start, sweetheart. Just tell me anything.”

  She sighed and glanced down at the glass in her hand, running one finger over the curved edge. “I think, if you hadn’t messaged me again right at the moment you did, I wouldn’t have come back. No matter what.”

  “I wouldn’t have stopped.” A pause, blue eyes locked on hers. “No matter what.”

  Her lips twisted. “You say that so confidently.”

  “I almost flew over when I found out you’d been hurt.”

  “What?” She glanced up and saw the truth in his eyes. “Why didn’t you?”

  He took a sip of whiskey. “I didn’t think I’d be welcomed by your parents, and I didn’t think it would be good for your recovery to have me there mucking things up.”

  The sky outside was already beginning to darken, the hours of daylight being swallowed up as easily as krill into a blue whale’s mouth.

  “I wish you would have come.”

  He held her gaze. “Me, too.”

  Tilting her head back to stare up at the ceiling, she took a few moments to gather her thoughts.

  “So, you know I got hurt. I’d had a great season after”—she straightened and gestured between the two of them—“after us. I actually had a real shot at Nationals, and who knows from there. Maybe some international stuff. Things were looking really good. I was swimming faster, had never been in better shape.” She took another sip. “And that continued over the summer. I swam every day and worked two jobs, since my scholarship didn’t cover me for the non-school months. But that meant I didn’t get out of shape and had an okay amount of money saved by the time school started.”

  “Then you got hurt?”

  She nodded. “It was in the first competition of the season. I felt something tear but kept swimming because it was in the final stretch of the race. I won.” CeCe shook her head. “Turns out if I hadn’t pushed through the pain, I might still have a racing career.”

  Colin took the empty glass from her hand and set it on the table. “You couldn’t have known that.”

  She shrugged. “A fact I understand now, but one that also haunted me for a good long while.”

  He brushed his knuckles across her cheek. “How long did it haunt you, sweetheart?”

  “Frankly?”

  A nod.

  “It still bothers me,” she said with a huff. “But you can’t go back and change the past. The worst part was my parents never came, never called. Hell, they never even sent a card. Their only daughter got really hurt, needed a pretty serious surgery followed by physical therapy, but they never once came to check on me.”

  Blue eyes flashed. “That’s fucked up.”

  “But that’s the way they are.” Her voice was resigned. “It just took until that moment for me to truly understand they would never change. And, truthfully, I’d broken something in them, too. I wasn’t their perfect daughter. I didn’t stay close to home and marry the man they’d chosen. I wanted to travel and draw and swim fast.” She laced her fingers together, pressing them to her heart. “I wanted to live my own life, and that would never ever be compatible with their expectations.”

  “It’s their loss,” Colin said fiercely, brushing back a strand of her ponytail that was lying around her throat. “I know I’m far from innocent in this, that I fucked up royally, but I don’t know how a parent could do that to a child.”

  “I know.” She laughed, and it sounded broken. “We both really got screwed in the parental department. I mean, I got disowned because I wanted to take a trip I was paying for myself and then swim competitively a few states away from home, and your mother—”

  Colin straightened, eyes going flinty and cold. “What did my mother do to you?”

  “Well, it was more to you.” CeCe opened and closed her mouth. Damn, she hadn’t wanted to go about it this way. She didn’t want to hurt him, and her next words would definitely hurt him. “Though I guess you could say it was to us—”

  The trill of her phone cut through her words.

  She reached for it.

  He stopped her. “Don’t.”

  “I have to.” She slipped her fingers from beneath his. “It’s Hunter’s ringtone and I haven’t talked to him yet.”

  Colin sighed, chin dropping to his chest. “Then, of course, you have to answer it.” His tone was sincere, absent of sarcasm, and that settled some of the raging storm inside her.

  Cecilia swiped across the screen, a smile breaking out on her lips when Hunter’s little face appeared on her phone.

  Saved by FaceTime.

  That was a new one.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Cecilia

  “Bye, CeCe!” Hunter shouted and then disappeared from the screen. Abby’s face appeared in his place.

  “Not you!” CeCe joked. “Where’s my little squishy’s face?”

  Abby laughed but turned the camera around so she could see Carter toddling around the floor, a large plastic truck clutched in one hand. “And I’ll have you know he told me just this morning Carter no squish-squish.”

  “No!” CeCe said, collapsing back onto the bed and watching the darkening sky through the windows. “He’s growing up too fast.”

  “I know.” Abby sighed. “But that’s not the only thing that’s going to be growing.” She pointed at her belly.

  “What?” CeCe’s jaw dropped open. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

  Abby nodded. “Yup. Jordan is once again banned from wearing deodorant.”

  CeCe burst into laughter. “Don’t tell me the smell of it is making you sick again!”

  Her friend rolled her eyes. “Every freaking type.” But then she laughed. “My nose told me I was pregnant before the pregnancy test could.”

  “Oh, my God.”

  “I know.”

  “You’re having another baby.”

  “I know.” Abby widened her eyes. “What the hell were we thinking?”

  CeCe smiled. “That you were good parents?” A beat. “Plus, you have a hell of a nanny.”

  Abby blew out a breath. “About that . . .”

  Cecilia’s gut dropped.

  “I was wondering if you would consider working for me.”

  Pregnancy brain was already striking her poor friend. “I do work for you, Abs.”

  She waved a hand. “I’m screwing this up. I meant, I want you to put your art skills to work in my department.” Both palms came up. “No pressure, but yo
ur drawings are so amazing that I was hoping to hire you as a freelance artist. You could work from here or on your travels. I just . . . you’re family, CeCe, and my kids and I are so lucky to have you. But I don’t want to be the one to hold you back, not when you’re so talented, honey. You deserve to have all your dreams come true.”

  Cecilia’s eyes filled with tears. “Dammit, Abs. You had to go and do it.”

  Her friend sniffed and wiped a hand across her cheek. “I’m sorry. I mean, I’m not sorry. But I’m also a hormonal mess and have been emotionally puking all over everyone.” Jordan appeared briefly on the screen, a box of tissues in his hand. He put them in Abby’s lap and looked into the phone. “She asked you yet? You’re going to say yes, right?”

  “Ugh.” Abby slapped his arm. “Stop being so pushy, dammit.”

  “Language.” He smacked a kiss to her lips and glanced back at the camera, winking at CeCe. “Yup, she’s definitely going to say yes.”

  “Jordan!”

  “Abigail.” He kissed her again, a little longer than before. “I love you to pieces.”

  “Congrats,” CeCe murmured.

  He studied her through the screen, eyes concerned. The man was an emotional ninja, somehow always knowing when she’d needed a hug or a break from the stress of Hunter’s care. Today was no different. One look and he knew something was up. “You doing okay?”

  She nodded. “I’m fine. I just . . . I had some stuff come up.”

  His brows pulled together. “Do you need me to—?”

  “I’m all right.” CeCe put enough emphasis on the words that Jordan stopped talking and studied her. “If you say so,” he said after a moment.

  Her lids narrowed. “I do say so.”

  One half of his mouth turned up into a smile. “Okay then. Enjoy your travels, and I’ll try to make sure Abby doesn’t bug you too much—”

  “Hey!” Abby protested.

  “Be safe and don’t hesitate to call. Oh! My sister will be in Germany next week. She wanted to see about possibly getting together if the dates work out.”

  Jordan’s sister, Heather, was another part of their raucous, romance-reading, ridiculously-expensive-pajama-loving quintet. She was also a true ball-buster and really fun to hang out with.

  “That would be great. I’ll text her.”

  “Awesome. Enjoy yourself, CeCe.” He shifted slightly to the right so Cecilia could see Abby on the screen again. “Say goodbye, sweetheart.”

  “Wait!” Abby said. “I didn’t get to ask if you finished reading the book. Chapter Sixteen has that scene with the—”

  Jordan sighed and waved to CeCe. “Bye.” Then he bent to kiss Abby again, pressing the button to disconnect the call.

  All the noise cut off in a split second, and she sighed into the silence, surprised at how much she missed her friends, Hunter’s sweet face, and even Carter’s little squishy toddler legs.

  They were her family, and she was homesick for them.

  Funny how she’d never felt homesick before, but her little motley crew of kids and adults had become more of a real family to her than her own blood.

  They were her anchor in the way she’d once hoped Colin would be.

  Her breath caught because Colin.

  As in she’d forgotten he was in the room with her.

  CeCe sat up from the bed and whirled around. He was on the couch, a book in his hand. Her heart was pounding for some reason. No, not for some reason. She felt like she’d accidentally shown the table her hand in poker. Okay, that was a terrible analogy, but him overhearing the conversation was almost as though she’d stripped off too many layers of skin and was now a throbbing and vulnerable and homesick mess.

  Colin looked up from the book. “Your friends seem nice.”

  The breath she’d been holding slid free. “They’re the absolute best.”

  “You’re the best.” His lips tipped up.

  She crossed over to the sitting space and picked up a glass of whiskey—his, hers, she didn’t know at this point—and had just lifted it to her lips for a sip when she recognized what he was reading.

  What. He. Was. Reading.

  “What are you doing?” she gasped.

  He turned the page. “She said chapter sixteen, right?” A tilt of his head. “Oh. Oh.”

  “Colin!” She tried to grab the book from his hands.

  “He puts his . . . what?”—Colin’s eyes went wide—“where?”

  “Oh. My. God,” she muttered. “This is not happening.”

  “And his tongue? Holy . . .” He trailed off, and looked up at her. “You read this?”

  Cecilia’s cheeks were burning. “Seriously, just stop. Oh, my God.” She groaned again when he kept the book out of her reach and still managed to turn another page.

  This book was dirtier than the last. A contemporary romance about a boss and his best friend’s sister. He was a sex god and really, really adventurous in bed. Which was hot when reading it by herself or reflecting on it with her little Energizer Bunny of a vibrator.

  It was also critically embarrassing when was Colin reading it and then giving her incredulous looks.

  “And then he—” Colin dropped the book low enough for her to rip it out of his grip and launch it across the room. She barely heard the plunk as it smacked against the floor. Instead, she was suddenly aware of his body beneath hers, of his hard Scottish broadsword—to steal a surprisingly fitting term from her historical novels—pressed against her thigh. She was draped over him like a blanket and when he looked at her with heat in his gaze, she couldn’t possibly be held responsible for her reaction. “You read that?”

  “I’m not innocent any longer.”

  His eyes heated further, his hands slipped to her waist.

  She lost the battle with herself.

  Her hands went from his chest to his head, and she yanked his mouth down to hers.

  And she kissed him with all the pent-up heat and emotion and yearning from the last eight years.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Colin

  The woman could kiss.

  Her mouth was urgent yet soft, hurried but somehow giving him the sense that she was still savoring every second.

  Colin didn’t realize he’d been sitting there frozen, lost in feeling CeCe in exactly the place she most belonged—his arms—and not actively participating, until his woman pulled back and glared at him. “Kiss me, dammit.”

  He didn’t need to be told twice.

  He wrapped his arms around CeCe’s waist, yanked her atop him, and leaned back against the couch cushions.

  Curves beneath his fingertips, breasts pressed against his chest, and then skin . . . And fuck, yes. Her skin was like velvet, silky smooth, and flushed pink from the blood rushing beneath the surface.

  Not that his blood was calm and hanging out below his skin . . . or at least not all his skin. It had shifted so that it was in a very specific, very hard and aching location.

  CeCe shoved at the T-shirt he’d shrugged on when her phone had rung, not wanting to be half-naked and scarring a child if he happened to get caught on the screen.

  But instead of being caught in flagrante delicto, he’d been captivated by the voices coming from her phone. Jealous of the easy familiarity between her and her former employer. Touched by how good she’d been with Hunter. She loved those people.

  He was glad.

  But it also made him ache.

  Because he wanted her more.

  He wanted this kiss to be about the future more than the past.

  He wanted this moment to be the beginning of some magical happily ever after, like in one of her books.

  “Colin,” she said, tearing her mouth away, her breath coming in short gasps, her hands on his chest, his abs . . . teasing lower. “Your brain is working too hard.” She grinned. “And not this one,” she added with a punctuating pat on his cock.

  His hips shot up at the touch and he groaned. “God, sweetheart. I love your hands on me. But
—ah—I feel like we should finish the conversation—”

  Her hand reached into his boxer briefs and squeezed. Hard. “Fuck now. Talk later.”

  Considering that Colin’s eyes were rolling into the back of his skull, he couldn’t argue.

  Except, he had to argue.

  Because somehow he was lucky enough to have a third chance with the woman he loved and he could not afford to fuck it up.

  “CeCe.” He gathered his wits, pulled her hand from his pants, and yanked her so she was flush against him. Which almost shredded his already tenuous control, because she was soft to his hard, smelled so damned amazing, and when she undulated against him—

  Fuck, he wanted her.

  Except . . . Cecelia might be determined to live in the moment, to pretend the past didn’t still have its claws in him, but he knew they couldn’t do this, not yet anyway.

  Not without them both understanding exactly what had happened six years before.

  “Stop,” he said. “Sweetheart, just stop.”

  CeCe finally froze, though her chest heaved and her green eyes gleamed with pain. “I just want to forget,” she said, tears leaking out of the corners of her eyes. “I just want to move on.”

  He wiped away that glistening moisture, pressed a soft kiss to her lips.

  Then he waited.

  Her first instinct was always to run, but he couldn’t let her. Not this time. Not when it meant their future.

  Luckily, his patience paid off.

  Glassy emerald eyes met his, and her exhale was shaky. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  God she undid him.

  “Haven’t we hurt each other enough?” he asked softly. “We’ve let the past come between us, the secrets chip away at everything that’s held us together. We both need to know everything.”

  A nod before her chin dropped to her chest. “You’re right.”

  “So, tell me, sweetheart. Please.”

  Another shuddering breath. “Okay. What do you remember from that day?”