by Katee Robert
Anderson stepped forward, putting himself in front of his mother. “She’ll take the offer.”
“But, I—”
“Stop speaking, Mother. You’ve done enough damage.” He turned those cold eyes on Beckett and then Samara. “I’ll have the paperwork drawn up today and she’ll be on a flight out Monday.”
“She’ll be on a flight out tomorrow,” Beckett corrected. “This offer expires in twenty-four hours. If Lydia is still within Houston limits at that point of time, I’m releasing the tape.”
“Consider it done.”
He ignored Lydia’s sputtering. Through all this, she’d become something larger than life, looming over his every move. Anticipating. Now, standing here in the pale light of her office, she was just a bitter and angry woman. Beckett took two steps back and gave her one last look. “You should have been happy with what you had.”
“Morningstar was never supposed to be his, and it sure as hell was never supposed to be yours.”
This is what thirty years of spite looks like.
He shook his head. “Have a nice life, Lydia. If you ever set foot in this city again, I’ll personally see you and everything you’ve ever touched burned to ash.” Beckett turned and, after letting Samara precede him, walked through the door.
Journey stared at the closed door, barely able to process the turn of events. Distantly, she was aware of her mother cursing, the legendary calm cracked beyond repair, but all she could focus on was how at peace Samara and Beckett had looked. There were no ghosts riding them, fear wasn’t making this choice for them. He’d faced down one of the scariest people Journey knew without flinching, and he’d walked out with a solid win.
I could learn a thing or two from Beckett King.
“This is unforgivable.”
She moved to the chair on the other side of the desk and sank into it, her legs not quite steady. Truth be told, they hadn’t been steady since Anderson arrived a few hours ago bringing warnings that Beckett was up to something. Bringing warnings to Journey. Not to their mother.
He stood against Lydia’s wrath, a solid pillar of stone, the one person who grounded their entire family no matter what the world tried to throw at them. Lydia moved as if to sweep everything off her desk, and Anderson caught her wrist. “That’s enough, Mother.”
Her expression went slack for the space of a breath, and then rearranged into rage. “You’re just going to roll over and let him do this. You’re going to sentence me to exile.”
“You did this.” He released her hand but didn’t move back. “You went after him clumsily and now you’re paying the price.” Anderson shook his head. “Now it’s up to me to clean up your mess. Again.”
Lydia sneered. “You’re not even attempting to pretend you’re unhappy about this turn of events. You’ve wanted me out of the way for years.”
Journey could almost see her mother working her way down the manipulation checklist. Hurt, check. Guilt, check. Anger, check. Journey would have cracked before now, but Anderson stood strong against the waves of emotion. “Sit down.”
“I will not.” Lydia turned on her heel and strode out of the office.
Anderson sighed and grabbed his phone. “Hey Jacob, I’m going to need you to guide my mother to the room on this floor…Yes, that one. Thank you.”
As if on cue, a screech sounded from farther down the hall. Journey twisted to look at him. “You just ordered our mother restrained.”
“If left to her own devices, she’d grab the first gun she came across and go hunt down Beckett to finish the job she ordered Walter Trissel to do.” Anderson checked his phone and nodded to himself. “She’s secure.” He turned those blue eyes, so like their father’s, on her. “How are you holding up?”
This was the brother she knew, not the cold bastard who’d stood there and dealt with Beckett. Journey gave him a wobbly smile. “About as well as can be expected.”
He walked over and crouched down next to her chair. “I’ll see us through this, Jo. I promise.”
Just like he’d promised so many things in the past. For the first time since her father called and her mother fired her best friend, Journey managed something resembling a smile. “I know you will.” She let the expression drop—it was too much effort to maintain. “You’re really going to do what he wants.”
“Yes.” He gave her a tight smile. “We should probably send our cousin a gift basket this Christmas for doing us the favor of removing our mother.”
Journey shook her head, because there was nothing to say to that. Dysfunctional parent-child relationships dominated the King family, and their branch was no exception. “What happens now?”
“Now, Jo…Now, we prepare for what comes next.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
You’re more than welcome to have your position within Kingdom Corp back. Barring that, I’m happy to write you a letter of recommendation.”
Samara studied Anderson King. She didn’t know him as well as Lydia or Journey, but what she did know would make him a man who’d be a strong leader for the company.
He just wasn’t the leader her heart wanted to follow.
“Thank you for the offer—to both—but I won’t be staying on with Kingdom Corp. I’d be happy for the letter of recommendation.”
Anderson sat back. “I don’t suppose there’s something I can offer you to stay? My sister values your relationship and it would mean a lot if you were still here. I’m prepared to offer a substantial raise.”
She was tempted. Lord, she was tempted. But if she stayed only to make Journey happy, that would be taking the safe option. She’d never considered her career safe before, but looking back, that’s exactly what it was. She’d thrown in her lot with Lydia and stubbornly clung to that path even when other options became available.
Samara wouldn’t make the same mistake again. She smiled. “Journey isn’t going to be rid of me that easily, but the next step for my career is in a different direction.” She’d risen as far as she could within the ranks of Kingdom Corp. The top positions were all held by the King children, and they’d continue to be for as long as there were King family members. There was nothing wrong with that, but Samara wanted something more.
“If you’re sure.”
“I’m sure.”
Anderson nodded. “In that case, I wish you the best.” He opened a drawer and pulled out a set of keys. “I was going to send this over via courier, but something tells me you’re headed for Morningstar Enterprise.” He passed over the keys. “My mother followed Beckett’s instructions and was on a plane Friday morning. It will take a little bit to untangle the paperwork fully, but Beckett should know we fully intend to ensure that Thistledown Villa stays his moving forward.” He motioned to the keys. “A token in good faith.”
Her heart swelled. “Thank you. That will mean the world to him.”
“It’s the least I can do to balance out the wrongs my mother committed.”
She agreed, but she didn’t say as much. Anderson wasn’t behind Lydia’s actions any more than Journey was. They were all pieces being moved around a board that was generations old, but hopefully that would change going forward. “See you around, Anderson.” She stood and walked out of the office.
Samara paused in Journey’s doorway and knocked on the frame. “Hey.”
Journey looked up. “Hey.” She looked like she hadn’t slept all weekend, the circles beneath her eyes almost purple, but she smiled. “Guess you didn’t take the job offer.”
“Journey—”
“No, you’re right not to. I’m sorry if I wasn’t totally graceful about it when my mother fired you. I haven’t exactly been living the highlight reel this week.”
Samara hesitated. “Happy hour on Wednesday?”
“Definitely.” Journey’s smile warmed a little. “I really am happy for you, you know.”
“I know.”
She shooed her. “Now get out of here. Go hunt down that man of yours and celebrate a win.” S
he raised her eyebrows. “You’re going to have to work a lot harder for the next contract, though. I won’t go easy on you just because we’re best friends.”
“Looking forward to it.” Samara took her time leaving the building, silently saying her good-byes in a way she hadn’t been able to last time. She might be back here at some point, but it would never be home again.
She walked the two blocks over to Morningstar Enterprise and made her way up to Beckett’s office. He looked up when she walked through the door, and his smile had her grinning back. He rose and rounded the desk to take her in his arms. “You were gone too long.”
“It was literally an hour.” She ran her hands up his chest, part of her not quite believing that they’d gotten out in one piece. “Anderson offered me my job back with a large raise.”
“Did he?” Beckett answered carefully, his dark gaze on her face. “What’d you say?” As if he was only distantly curious and not impatiently waiting for her response.
Samara let him wait a little longer. She finally rolled her eyes. “I turned him down. You see, this really gorgeous and great guy offered me a job as COO of his company this weekend.”
“Did he? I seem to remember you not giving him an answer.”
She tilted her head to the side. “I didn’t? Silly me. The answer is yes.”
“In that case…” He released her and stepped back to a respectable distance, his tone going pure professional. “Welcome to Morningstar Enterprise, Ms. Mallick. I believe you’ll be a welcome addition to the team.”
“Looking forward to it.” She managed to hold it together for all of five seconds. “Can you take a few hours? I have something to show you.”
He shrugged. “It’s going to be a late night no matter which way I swing it, but I can spare a few hours now.”
“Perfect.”
“Why did you bring me here?” Thistledown rose like a ghost from his past. Beckett had been able to keep it out of mind for the most part since he’d scattered his father’s ashes, but seeing it now had that loss rearing up to slap him down.
He turned to find Samara leaning against her car, smiling. She moved to him and took his hand. “It turns out that your cousins aren’t as monstrous as their mother, and Anderson is ensuring this ends up back with you.”
Hope flared. He pulled her into his arms and held her close. “That’s amazing news.”
“I thought so, too.” She nestled closer.
Beckett rested his chin on the top of her head and just let himself soak up the moment. The woman he loved in his arms, the future spreading out before them and filled to the brim with possibilities. His childhood home in the process of being restored. His business no longer under imminent threat. His enemy exiled.
He studied the house. “It’s pretty fucking big.”
“Mm-hmm.”
A thought had been waiting at the edges of his mind since Thursday, when Anderson had stepped between Beckett and Lydia. “You know my cousins better than I do. Do you think they’d be amiable to the idea of getting to know their history?”
“What—you mean like here at Thistledown Villa?”
“It’s part of their legacy, same as mine.”
Samara twisted in his arms to face the house. She leaned back against him. “I don’t know if you can fix the harm done by Nathaniel and Lydia. There’s thirty years of bad blood between the branches of your family…” Samara took a deep breath. “But I don’t think that bad blood extends to them the same way it didn’t quite extend to you. They don’t like you out of habit, not because of something you’ve done to them directly.”
“I know there’s no magic fix.” He kissed her temple. “But it’s a start, the first small step in the right direction.”
“Yes, it is.”
It felt right to start to mend those wounds. It might not be something fixed in the next year or two or five, but maybe they could build relationships close enough that the next generation wouldn’t have to grow up separately.
Beckett rocked back on his heels as the image of Samara pregnant with his child formed in his mind. Their children would grow up here the same way he had, but they would have both parents and all the happiness that children deserved. All the happiness that he and Samara deserved.
Not yet. Not for a while yet.
But someday.
He released Samara and led her up to the house. Inside, it smelled slightly musty, as if the week since they’d been there last was closer to a month. Samara trailed behind, but he reached back and took her hand to pull her even with him. “I was thinking of redecorating.”
“Oh?” She sounded amused.
“This was a happy place before my mother died. I think it could be a happy place again—our place. My father clung too tightly to the history before she died. I think it’s time to move Thistledown into the future once and for all.”
“I like that idea.” She touched the drab burgundy drapes that hung in the entranceway. “We’ll liven up the place.”
He loved the way her laugh seemed to fill up the empty halls and breathe life into this old house. He could almost picture busy Christmases with children running down the halls playing chasing games, the smell of cooking permeating the space, the energy of love lifting the gloom that had been part of this house for so many years. “This was a happy place before all the loss.”
“This will be a happy place again.” She turned and went up on her toes to kiss him. “Give it time, Beckett. I think you’re right. I think your cousins will come around and one day this place will be filled with family again.”
He spoke against her lips. “Want to know a secret?”
“Always.”
“When I picture the family that will fill this place, I picture ours.” He kissed first one corner of her mouth and then the other, backing her slowly to the wall. “It’s too soon to get into the specifics, but that’s where this is headed, Samara.”
She arched against him with a soft laugh. “Do I get a say in this theoretical family?”
“Of course.” He nibbled her neck. “Would you prefer a spring wedding or a fall one? How do you feel about dogs? Should we have two kids or more?”
She burst out laughing. “Getting a little ahead of yourself, aren’t you?”
“Never.” Beckett pulled back enough to meet her gaze. “It’s you for me. If that means waiting a year or waiting a decade, then that’s what I’ll do.” He traced her bottom lip with his thumb. This part was more difficult to get out. “If you don’t want kids…then we won’t have any.”
Her eyes went wide. “You just said you wanted kids.”
“I do. With you. But that’s not a decision I get to make without you.” He leaned down and brushed his lips over the path his thumb had just traveled. “I’m head over heels in love with you, Samara.”
She slipped her arms around his neck and kissed him. It wasn’t an answer…but maybe it was. Beckett scooped her up and strode up the stairs, eliciting another infectious laugh from Samara. He went straight to his old room and laid her down across his bed. She looked around. “Tell the truth—you snuck girls in here all the time when you were a teenager.”
“Never.” He pushed her shirt up and kissed her stomach, working his way up to her breasts. “We had a full staff and they reported on my every move. Nothing kills a makeout session like having your dour housekeeper fling open the door.” He pulled her shirt off and tossed it aside, quickly followed by her skirt. Beckett lowered his voice. “We’re alone in the house right now.”
“Thank God.” She reached for his jeans and shoved them down his hips. “I might throw something if we’re interrupted.”
He kissed her as he guided his cock into her. This. This right here is fucking perfection. Beckett thrust slow, savoring every touch, every sigh, every little gasp she made. “Happiness is you with me, Samara. Happiness is this.” He picked up his pace and reached between them to stoke her clit the way she liked it.
She came with his name on her
lips. Beckett couldn’t hold out any longer. He didn’t want to. He thrust into her again and again, chasing completion that he’d only ever found with this woman. “I love you.”
Samara clung to him as their heartbeats slowed and their breathing returned to normal. She kissed his jaw, his neck, his shoulder. “Beckett?”
“Yeah?”
He felt her smile. “Want to know a secret?”
“As if you have to ask.”
She shifted back and trailed her fingers down the side of his face. She wore a satisfied smile and there was no mistaking the love in her dark eyes. “Yes.”
He went still. “‘Yes’ isn’t a secret.”
Her smile grew. “I think three kids is a nice number. I prefer cats to dogs, but I’m willing to be convinced. A fall wedding would be wonderful.” She kissed him. “I love you, Beckett King. I think we should wait a few years before we start popping out babies, but let’s fill these halls with a happy family. Our happy family.”
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About the Author
KATEE ROBERT is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author who learned to tell stories at her grandpa’s knee. Her novel The Marriage Contract was a RITA finalist, and RT Book Reviews named it “a compulsively readable book with just the right amount of suspense and tension.” When not writing sexy contemporary and romantic suspense, she spends her time playing imaginary games with her children, driving her husband batty with what-if questions, and planning for the inevitable zombie apocalypse.
Learn more:
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Twitter @ katee_robert
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Also by Katee Robert