Escorting the Groom (The Escort Collection Book 4)

by Leigh James

  I grabbed some Advil to go with my coffee. "She does that. A lot."

  "I'll be in touch."

  As soon as we hung up, my phone buzzed again. It was Elizabeth. I had no desire to talk to her, but I was immediately worried that something had happened to my father.

  "Is everything okay?"

  "Of course," she said smoothly. She sounded way too friendly for eight o'clock in the morning.

  "Then why are you calling me?"

  "Serena called last night. She told us about the trust. I wanted to call and say congratulations." Her tone was friendlier than it had been in years.

  "Is my father there?"

  "No. He's already at the club." Her voice was husky. "Are you in the office?"

  "Not yet."

  "How're things going with Blake?" she asked.

  "Great," I lied. "Why the fuck are you asking?"

  "Because I was just thinking… wouldn't it be fun if we had a little, you know… reunion?" Her tone was hot.

  Of all the goddamned nerve. "Seriously?"

  "Seriously." She sounded so turned on. I could just picture her running her hands over her breasts. "It would be naughty. You're married now; I'm married—to your father. You're a newly minted multi-billionaire…"

  Between Chelsea and Elizabeth, I was in proposition-central station. Jesus, they were really coming out of the woodwork.

  But I'd dealt with Chelsea. Maybe it was finally time to deal with Elizabeth.

  "That sounds… that sounds naughty, Elizabeth. Really naughty." My tone was encouraging.

  "You know I like it naughty. I promise I won't disappoint you. I never did before, did I?"

  "Never," I lied agreeably. "I'd love to meet. Let's plan on this afternoon at the Four Seasons. I'll check in under a fake name—I'll text it to you later. In the meantime, to get primed, I want you to send me some pictures of you. Some nasty ones. You sound riled up right now. Go to your bed and take your clothes off. Pleasure yourself and take pictures. Send them to me. I want you to think of me while you're taking those pictures, baby, because I'll be thinking of you. I'm going to give it to you good and hard this afternoon. It's been too long."

  "I can't wait." Her voice was breathy.

  Me neither, you douche. "See you later."

  I called Ian as soon as I hung up with Elizabeth. "I need you to take me to South Boston. I'll be down in ten minutes. And this afternoon, I need you to do me another favor."

  Elena almost refused to give me Blake's home address. True to form, I offered her an outrageous sum of money so that she would break her own confidentiality agreement and tell me where Blake lived.

  Blake wouldn't approve, but also true to form, I was doing this for her own good.

  And mine. Since I didn't know what she was thinking, maybe it was just mine.

  Ian pulled up outside of a seedy-looking row house in a crumbling neighborhood. Christ. My wife and her mother couldn't live like this. Why didn't she tell me things were this bad?

  I hit the buzzer, but there was no answer. Then I heard a voice from a window on the second floor. "What do you want?"

  I looked up and saw an older, pretty woman who must have been Blake's mom. "I'm looking for Blake. It's Lucas Ford. Can I come up?"

  "Hold on," she said. "I'll buzz you in."

  The buzzer rang, and I went up the stairs, ignoring the stuffiness and the lingering smell of kimchi, which seemed incongruous at this hour of the morning. Blake's mother opened the door, tightening her lavender bathrobe around her. "Mrs. Maxwell. It's a pleasure. I'm sorry to come barging in first thing this morning."

  "It's okay." She smiled at me and motioned me inside. "Have a seat. Would you like some coffee?"

  "Sure." I sat down on the sagging couch, which was dotted with threadbare pillows.

  "I'm sure our place isn't what you're used to," she called from the tiny kitchen.

  Three potted violets sat on the windowsill, cutting through the dankness with some cheer.

  "Your house is a lot cozier than mine. More personal touches." I accepted the coffee from her. "Is your daughter here? I need to speak with her."

  She nodded and adjusted her robe again. "She's here, but I think she's pretty upset."

  I set down the coffee. "I'm sure she is. I've been sort of a jerk."

  Mrs. Maxwell crossed her arms against her chest. "Are you here for business?" She studied my face.

  "Not if your daughter forgives me."

  She smiled at me a little, looking pleased. "In that case, I will get her. And then I'll give you two some privacy. It was nice to meet you, though."

  "The pleasure was mine." I bounced my knee nervously as I waited for Blake. I didn't know what I was going to say, but whatever it was, it had to be right, and it had to be fast.

  Like Herman had said, a woman like Blake wasn't going to wait around forever.

  She came out a minute later, wearing a T-shirt and sweats, and her hair was up in a messy bun. Her eyes were red and puffy, a fact that I registered physically as a sucker punch to the gut. Christ. I'd made her cry, and by the looks of it, I'd made her cry a lot.

  "Babe." I stood up, but she warily kept her distance, circling me and standing near the kitchen.

  "I was going to call you," she said. "I got sick last night, so I came here. I didn't want you to catch it."

  That was a lie, and I knew it. The way her chin jutted toward me, her eyes glittering in defiance, didn't match her apologetic tone.

  "Why didn't you call me?"

  "I was too sick. I just went to bed."

  "Were you crying because you were sick?"

  Blake frowned and wiped her eyes. "I wasn't crying."

  I sighed and dropped back down on the couch.

  "You should go.” She wrapped her arms around herself. “I'll meet you at the apartment in a little while. You shouldn't be here."

  "Why not?"

  "Because our apartment's gross, and I'm ashamed to have you here." Tears shone in her eyes, but she stubbornly held them back.

  "You have nothing to be ashamed of." I wanted to reach out and pull her to me, but I could tell by her stance that she wouldn't allow it.

  "What about you, Lucas?" She wiped her eyes again. "Do you have anything to be ashamed of?"

  "Are you talking about your sister?"

  She gave an almost imperceptible nod. "I saw her last night, coming out of your office."

  "Last night, right before you got sick?" I asked.

  She nodded miserably.

  "That's because she came to my office to try to extort money from me. And I gave it to her." I raked my hands through my hair. "But I also made her sign a contract that she'd stay out of our lives forever, and an airtight confidentiality agreement."

  "I told you not to do that—she won't ever leave you alone."

  I looked at her, silently pleading for her to forgive me. "I'm sorry that I gave her money, because I know that's not what you wanted. But I had to make a quick decision, and I chose to protect you, because I will always choose to protect you. Even if I've done a crappy job of showing you that thus far. I wanted her to leave us alone."

  Now a tear slipped free, and she wiped it away roughly. "You said 'us.'"

  I melted toward her. "Of course I did. Just because I'm an asshole doesn't mean I'm a total asshole."

  "I told you, go home." She sniffed. "We don't even have to talk about this. It doesn't matter. We signed a contract, and I'm going to keep up my end—that is, if you want me to."

  I yearned to pull her into my arms, but I had to tell her the truth. "The thing is you don't have to. The terms of the trust are being annulled. So I'm going to inherit my share of the money, probably in the next few weeks."

  Blake looked as though she might pass out. "O-oh." She leaned against the wall to steady herself. "So you don't need me anymore."

  I couldn't take it. I closed the distance and brought her into my arms. "That's not true. I realized it last night when you were gone. You're a
total market disruptor, Blake."

  She was stiff in my arms. "I'm sorry?"

  I kissed the top of her hair. "You solved my must-have need."

  She shook her head. "I don't understand what you're saying."

  "Then let me explain it to you. Let me take you on a date before we go and get divorced."

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Blake

  "Where are we going?" We'd said a quick good-bye to my mother, with Lucas promising to be in touch soon. After we’d both showered and changed clothes, Lucas threw together an overnight bag and hustled me into the car.

  "You'll see soon." He smiled and reached over, taking my hand and squeezing it. He hadn't said much, but he'd kept his hands on me since we'd been back together, making me feel wanted, making me feel confused. Even though he said we didn't need to be married anymore, he'd come back for me.

  And as evidenced by the grin on his face, he seemed really, really freaking happy that I'd gone willingly.

  We drove out of the city. Lucas was quiet but still holding my hand. "Will you please tell me where we're going?" I asked.

  He smiled at me, flashing that damn dimple. "I have a promise to keep," he said cryptically. If I hadn't been so happy that he'd come back for me and was holding my hand, I would've smacked him.

  After almost an hour, Ian turned off at a sign for Hanscom Field. "We're flying somewhere?" I asked.

  The dimple peeped out again.

  "What? What?" The suspense was killing me. Then Ian pulled up right next to a lot filled with helicopters. Lucas donned a pair of aviator sunglasses and handed a pair to me, too. Suddenly, I understood. "We're flying in your helicopter?"

  "Next stop, Seal Harbor." Lucas leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. "You look hot in those sunglasses, by the way."

  He brought me to a beautiful blue copter and ushered me inside. After he harnessed me in and explained the safety precautions, he put on his headset. He started talking to the aviation tech, and I just watched his handsome profile. So beautiful. I loved every line on his face. I'd been lying to myself when I'd thought this could ever go back to being just a job.

  He said he wanted to protect me. I wasn't sure from what exactly, but I'd never had someone say that to me before. It made me feel safe, treasured, and loved.

  Maybe it was finally time for me to be brave, to take a chance. To risk… everything.

  "Lucas," I said, as he started up the engine.

  "What, babe?"

  "I love you!" I shouted over the noise.

  He gave me a thumbs-up.

  Ugh. I sulked in silence for the rest of the trip, looking at the beautiful scenery as we flew to Maine. It was very loud inside the copter, so we both had headphones on. "Babe," I saw Lucas mouth at one point, "are you okay?"

  I just gave him a thumbs-up.

  Later, after we'd flown over miles of green forest, as far as the eye could see, he started to descend. I could see a tiny airstrip coming up with a lone helipad. He headed toward it and landed the copter expertly. After he'd turned off the motor and taken his headphones off, he looked at me with an excited glint in his eye. "Babe?"

  "Yes?"

  "Welcome to Maine." He opened his door but then turned back. "And babe?"

  "Yes?"

  "I love you, too."

  I felt my cheeks heat up. "Well, thank you for letting me know!"

  He came back into the cockpit and pulled me close, crushing his lips to mine until I was dizzy. "Anytime, Mrs. Ford. Anytime."

  Unlike on the islands, no driver was waiting for us, just Lucas's old Jeep SUV. He threw our bag into it, and we drove through Bar Harbor on a tiny highway, over a bridge and across a bay. Seagulls and eagles soared together over the dark water. With the windows down, the sea air blowing through my hair, and Lucas at my side, I finally felt something I'd never felt before: truly happy.

  Realizing this, I laughed out loud.

  "What's so funny?" he asked.

  I shook my head. "I just feel relieved. I thought things were done with us. I didn't know what was going to happen, and I felt like my insides were being ripped out."

  He nodded. "I got pretty drunk last night," he admitted.

  "I got totally drunk last night."

  "I missed you," he said simply and reached over to squeeze my hand.

  "I missed you, too." I paused for a minute, watching the signs for lobster pounds and kayak rentals roll by. "What happened with my sister?"

  "You don't want to know."

  "Yes, I do. I don't want any secrets between us."

  He groaned. "She came to my office in an, er, formfitting dress. She asked me for money. In exchange, she offered to have an affair with me—"

  "Argh! She's a word that rhymes with blunt! I'll rip her eyes out!"

  "—to which I said a loyal no thank you," Lucas continued. "Then she threatened to blackmail me by telling anyone who would listen that you're an escort. So I agreed to pay her," Lucas explained.

  "But didn't you know last night that the trust terms were probably void?"

  "Yes."

  "So why did you care if she said things about me?"

  He squeezed my hand. "Because I vowed to love, honor, and obey you. I didn't think I'd be honoring you too much if I let your trashy sister expose you all over social media. I thought you'd want to keep your past private. As do I—for personal reasons, not monetary ones."

  "Thank you." I felt choked up. "How much money did you give her?"

  Lucas shrugged. "Not that much."

  "Lucas—"

  "Five million dollars."

  I started to splutter. "Five million!"

  "Five million dollars, and I made her sign a contract saying that she'll never come after you again, and that she understands this is all the money she's ever going to get out of me. And I made her sign a confidentiality agreement. I figured it was easier this way. It might even be less expensive, if you take into account the fact that we most likely don't have to buy her Christmas, birthday, and housewarming gifts after what she's pulled."

  I leaned my head back against the seat. "That's insane."

  "You know me"—he grinned—"always throwing money at my problems."

  During the rest of the ride through the rugged, beautiful Maine countryside, Lucas told me about what had happened with the trust and the lunch he'd had with Serena. "I think she still has a thing for Robert," he said.

  I agreed. "She definitely still has a thing for Robert. She was all drunk and moony about him at our wedding."

  "Good to know." If I ever needed to dangle something over Serena's head, which I probably would, it was good to have something to dangle.

  We followed the signs to Seal Harbor and finally pulled into a long private drive. An enormous house became visible, with a wraparound deck on each floor. "Wow," I said. "Just… wow."

  Lucas brought me into the house, and I was stunned by the spiral staircase and the floor-to-ceiling stone fireplace in the living room. There were Oriental rugs, bookcases teeming with books, and bright, gleaming hardwood floors. "This is amazing."

  "Come here." Lucas held out his hand for me and led me onto the back deck. Northeast Harbor spread out below us, dotted with sailboats, yachts, and lobster boats. The mountains of Acadia surrounded the harbor. The view was breathtaking.

  "I could get used to this," I said.

  Lucas pulled me against him. "I hope so."

  We spent the next hour on the deck, relaxing and holding hands, each of us nursing a glass of wine. "Martha Stewart has a house up here," he said.

  "No way! Have you ever seen her?"

  "Yep. Out to dinner one night at this Mexican place. She's as lovely in person as she is on television."

  "Wow," I said, "a real celebrity!"

  "I'm trying to keep you in the know. Maybe you'll see her up here, someday." His phone buzzed, and he checked it. Whatever he read made him choke on his wine.

  I pounded him on the back. "What's the matter?"

>   Lucas gave one final cough. "I forgot about something—the Four Seasons."

  "Huh?"

  Lucas took another healthy sip of wine. "Back to the no secrets thing. I forgot to tell you—Elizabeth called me this morning."

  My eyebrow shot up. "Why?"

  "She said she wanted to, er… see me."

  I crossed my arms against my chest. "See you? Or see you and then something more?"

  "The latter. It kind of came out of the blue, but I think she heard about the inheritance and got kind of… excited."

  "That witch! I knew she still wanted—"

  "I thought that my father should know," Lucas said, interrupting me gently. "So I asked her to send me naked pictures of herself and to meet me at the Four Seasons this afternoon. Except that I'm not there—Ian is. And he just took a picture of her—that's what he texted me. I wanted documentation to prove it to my father, once and for all, that Elizabeth can't be trusted."

  Blake held her hand out. "Hand me your phone."

  Lucas shook his head, looking very wary. "I don't think that's a good idea, babe."

  "The phone, babe. Now."

  He gave it to me reluctantly. I scrolled through the pictures and immediately wished I hadn't. I hopped up and paced the deck as I looked at them. "The nerve! Disgusting! What is she doing with that cucumber?"

  "That one's my favorite. Classic." Lucas was laughing until I stopped him with a death look.

  I tossed him back his phone. "Rich people are so weird."

  Lucas motioned for me to come to him. "Except me."

  "Right." I leaned down and kissed him. "Except you."

  He looked up at me. "Listen, there's one more thing."

  "Ew," I said, eyeing his phone warily. I didn't need to see any more of Elizabeth.

  "It's not an ew. It's an ooh. Hopefully." He got up from his chair and took my hands.

  And then he got down on one knee.

  "Blake, we came at this in a non-traditional way." He looked up into my eyes.

  "You bought me," I said.

  "I bought you. The thing is, after I realized that I didn't technically 'need' you anymore and that I was going to let you go—that's when I realized that I really needed you. And that I couldn't let you go."