Claimed By Her Best Friend's Dad

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Claimed By Her Best Friend's Dad Page 12

by Flora Ferrari


  He stalks over to me, but still keeps the barrel of the gun aimed at them until Tyron is the only one left in the room.

  Tyron stops at the door, clutching his jaws, and then turns slowly.

  “Are you on the juice, too?” he says, voice warbled and difficult to understand.

  “Steroids?” Jamie snarls. “I’d never touch the shit. Didn’t exactly help you and your goons now did it?”

  “Then how the fuck’d you move like that?”

  Jamie grins like a crazy wolf, baring his teeth.

  “You can’t touch another man’s woman and expect him to be anything less than primal, anything less than the monster he needs to be to make her safe. But I’m done talking with you. Get the fuck out before I paint the walls with your brains, Tyron.”

  Tyron skulks out.

  Outside, the police start to yell at them to put their hands up.

  Jamie turns to me and falls to his knees, dropping the gun and pulling the tape and gag out of my mouth. I let out a panting breath as he quickly unties the rest of me, moving with the same frantic movements we used when undressing last night.

  Finally, I collapse into his arms, shaking and crying, as though my emotions have waited until now to crash into me with the full force of this madness.

  “Are you okay?” Jamie breathes huskily. “Are you hurt?”

  “N-no,” I whimper, clutching onto him tightly, burying my face in his neck, and letting the tears flow.

  “I’d never forgive myself if I let something happen to you,” he groans. “You’re mine. I’ll always protect you.”

  “Forever?” I sob.

  “Forever,” he growls.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Jamie

  The three of us sit on the balcony of my apartment, the heated flooring doing nothing to melt the taut iciness that drapes over the moment.

  Beyond the glass of the balcony – enclosing the heat and keeping out the swirling landscape of winter – the city sits as if frozen in a snapshot.

  The late afternoon sun shafts down, lighting up the snow.

  It’s been one day since the mayhem at the restaurant.

  The police weren’t happy with the way I just charged in there, but one of the benefits of being a billionaire CEO is that, as long as things don’t end in disaster, I can work my way out of binds like that.

  The bottom line is that I saved my woman.

  The only sour point is that I forgot that the world was watching as I escorted her from the building, my arm wrapped around her shoulder, my face buried in her hair as I whispered soothing words and I held her close.

  Hundreds of people took photographs of that moment.

  We sit as though we’ve arranged it for this conversation.

  Yasmin sits on one side of the table, wearing a baggy gray sweater pulled up around her hands, cradling her hot cocoa as the steam warps in the air. Jade sits beside me, looking downright angelic in her white, airy sweater, the open weave making me want to grab her and please her even now.

  But Yasmin has seen the photographs of Jade and me together.

  The whole world has.

  We need to settle this.

  “So what exactly is this?” Yasmin says, pale blue eyes, my eyes, flitting between us. “Because it’s a little confusing, you know. I go to Maine to cool off, and then I cheat and check social media because I always cheat and check social media. And what do I see plastered all over Instagram? What do I read in the hundreds of messages sent to me? You two, looking like the most perfect couple in the world, hugging each other after a … a war, it seemed like.”

  She sighs and falls back in her chair, folding her arms.

  “Yas, I’m so sorry,” Jade murmurs, a sob trying to rise in her throat and distort her words. “I didn’t want you to find out like this.”

  “Just—just answer my question first,” Yasmin sighs. “What is this, a fling, a relationship, what?”

  “It’s everything,” I say passionately, unable to hide the possessive tremor in my voice. “All those times you told me I could find somebody, Yasmin, all those times you said I’d be happier if I had somebody to share my life with, I never believed you. After what happened with your mother—”

  “Oh, so now you want to talk about that?” she snaps.

  I sigh, nodding.

  “That’s fair. I deserve that. Your mother, she …”

  “Dad, I know what Mom did,” Yasmin says quietly. “It took me about five minutes to find her online. She’s got a profile on that hippy whatever commune website. I mean, what sort of disconnect-from-the-world commune has a website? But there you go. I know she chose to leave me, leave us, because she wanted to live a life of drugs and sex and freedom.”

  “We can talk about it,” I tell her firmly. “I want to be better. With Jade’s help, I really think I can be better.”

  Emotion flits across her eyes and she nods briefly.

  “I want that, Dad,” she says. “But I still don’t understand. Thank you—for the offer. I don’t even know if I want to talk about her, to be honest. I just needed to know that we could, you know?”

  “I know,” I tell her.

  “You were saying?” she prompts.

  “It’s everything,” Jade says fiercely, picking up where I left off. “Yas, I know how crazy it’ll sound, but something magical has happened with me and Jamie. We’ve gotten so close over these past couple of days. It’s like all the usual relationship stuff, all the banter, and the closeness and the trust – oh, the trust – it’s like it’s all been kicked into warp speed. I want to be the mother of his children, Yas. I want to be with him forever.”

  “And I need to be with her forever,” I growl. “The second I saw her when I came back from Japan, I knew it. You remember that I didn’t recognize her? That’s because I couldn’t believe that I’d fallen so hard, so fast, for your best friend. I tried to fight it. I really did. But it’s impossible. Jade, she’s … she’s just too special for that.”

  Yasmin and Jade meet eyes for a moment, and Yasmin’s lips twitch into a smile.

  “Well, yeah, I won’t argue with that,” she says.

  They giggle together.

  The sound of their laughter bolsters me, making me see a possible future in which this all really does turn out okay.

  “This is so weird,” Yasmin murmurs, taking a small sip of her cocoa and then laying it on the table. “Way weirder than I expected it would be.”

  “Wait, what?” Jade and I say at the same time, and then exchange a look that has Jade smiling widely and me smirking like I might just break into a big cheesy grin of my own.

  I look at her for a long moment, savoring the emotional glint in her eyes, the rosy bloom in her cheeks. It’s like she’s blossoming right in front of me, constantly changing and evolving in the best possible way.

  “See, the way you’re looking at each other right now is just too, I don’t know, pure and nice. Too good for me to be angry.”

  “But what did you mean it was weirder then you expected?” I ask, turning back to my daughter.

  Yasmin throws her hands up.

  “When I suggested that you have Jade in your self-defense class, I guess a tiny part of me was hoping that she’d rub off on you. You’re such an amazing person, Jade, so optimistic and good despite everything you’ve been through. You’re an inspiration to me, really.”

  Yasmin coughs back a sob and Jade reaches across the table, taking her hand. My daughter clutches onto my woman as though drawing strength from her.

  After a deep breath, she goes on.

  “And I guess there was this even smaller part of me, this part I sort of didn’t really acknowledge, that thought about what it’d be like if you two got together. I mean, I didn’t imagine that it’d happen in a few days. But still, I didn’t completely push the idea away, either. I just sort of let myself daydream about it every now and then.”

  She runs a hand through her dark hair, and then leans forward, looki
ng at me firmly and then at Jade.

  “Is this for real?” she says. “Because the only way I think I could be okay with this is if I knew that you weren’t going to break up in a few weeks and completely shatter what we have. Being together, that’s one thing, I think I can deal with that … But breaking up? That would just ruin us.”

  “This is for real,” I snarl passionately. “This is the most real thing I have ever felt. When I look at her, I feel like life just makes sense. I feel like I don’t have to be cold and detached anymore. Hell, I just feel, and that in itself is a miracle.”

  “You do seem different,” Yasmin notes quietly. “Jade?”

  Jade looks at me with tears glistening in her eyes, her lips trembling.

  “It’s real,” she sobs. “Yas, I can’t explain it, but it’s like there’s this door inside of me. And this door has been locked my entire life. Maybe I didn’t even know it was there. But Jamie is helping me to open it and, with him, I feel like I can be confident. I feel like I can be beautiful—”

  “You are beautiful,” Yasmin and I say at the same time.

  All three of us burst into laughter, the tension diffusing into nothingness like mist in the winter air.

  “I feel complete,” Jade finishes.

  I reach across and take her hand, squeezing it firmly, letting her know by touch alone that I’m here for her and always will be.

  I love you, I want to roar, but somehow I think that might be pushing my luck.

  I’m just happy that Yasmin isn’t threatening to throw us off the balcony.

  But soon.

  Yasmin nods slowly, tears glistening in her eyes.

  “I’m not saying I’m not shocked,” she says. “But if you can promise me that you won’t break up – if you can promise me that you’re making each other better, not worse – then I think I can be okay with this.”

  “We can, we are,” I growl, giving Jade’s hand another squeeze. “This is the real thing, Yasmin. We’re in this for life. I want to give you little brothers and sisters with Jade. I want to fill our lives with laughter and family and all those things I should’ve given you growing up. I’ll be the first to admit I’ve been a cold bastard, but I’m ready to change, with Jade’s help.”

  Yasmin laughs through her tears.

  “Now you’ve got me crying happy tears,” she giggles, shaking her head in disbelief.

  Jade walks around the table and sits next to her, wrapping her arms around my daughter and both of them crying out their happiness.

  I watch, my lips twitching into something like a real smile.

  Finally, the tears stop and we all sit in the surprisingly comfortable silence for a time, content to just be in each other’s company.

  “I never thought it’d go like this,” I say after a few minutes of watching the winter world drift by the glass enclosure of the balcony. “I’m just so…”

  “What, Dad?” Yasmin murmurs.

  “Yeah, Jamie. What?”

  I look deeply into my woman’s eyes, past her eyes, and into her bright and perfect soul.

  “I’m so ready to begin my life,” I say.

  Jade giggles. “You’re a multiple world champion in MMA and a billionaire businessman. Plus you have an amazing daughter. I’m pretty sure your life has already begun.”

  “My life with you,” I growl. “And I just know it’s going to be the best life I ever could’ve dreamed of. I can’t wait to see you grow and flourish as a writer, a woman, a mother.”

  Jade and Yasmin’s smiles are like mirrors of each other, lighting up their faces.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Jade

  It feels so good to lie against him at night, to wake into half-dreams and then lull myself back to sleep by pressing my face into the security of his hard muscular chest. I clutch onto him as I wake and sleep, dream and drift, sometimes bolting up terrified that he’s going to disappear like vapor and all of this – the closeness, the emotion, Yasmin’s acceptance – is going to prove to be just as unreal.

  But then he murmurs, half-awake, “Go to sleep, princess. We’ve got a big day tomorrow.”

  As the moon shines ice blue through the window, I close my eyes into darkness and watch as the moonlight changes shape, becoming our future, our love, our everything.

  Big day? I want to ask him. What do you mean? It’s just another Thursday.

  I don’t have work, which is a blessing in a way, despite the reason for it.

  After my manager talked to me so bitterly the day of the attack – not the first time he’s done it – I started to think more and more about taking Jamie up on his offer of writing full-time.

  Maybe he’s right.

  Maybe it is different when it’s my lover, my man making the offer, and not my best friend.

  But these are all concerns for tomorrow.

  For now, I’m content to drift into the warmth of my dreams, a whole sea of contentment lulling me along, as I bob and smile my way to oblivion.

  When I wake, I instinctively reach across the bed to touch Jamie, my fingers clawing at the empty sheets, and my heart immediately starts to thump quickly through my body.

  No matter how secure I feel in the moment, there’s always this vestige of anxiety clinging to me, a bitter scared voice whispering that all too soon this is going to be taken away and I’m going to be left wondering just exactly what I was thinking when I believed I deserved this closeness and this love.

  I sit up with a yawn, the moonlight from last night replaced with snow laced sunlight.

  A note sits on my bedside table, right next to my phone.

  A car is picking you up at twelve o’clock, Jamie’s neat script reads. Don’t be late, princess.

  Dimly, I remember the words he uttered in the quiet of the night, about having a big day tomorrow—today.

  I rise out of bed with my heart pounding even faster, though now excitement fuels each drumbeat pounding, not the anxiety that usually fires within me.

  I look around Jamie’s bedroom – with his minimalist décor, everything all modern and straight edges – and find that he’s left a dress hanging on the back of the door for me.

  I walk over to it and let my eyes move up and down the glittery copper fabric, sucking in a breath when I see that the cleavage is cut somewhat low and the hem is cut somehow high, meaning I’ll be showing a fair slice of leg and chest.

  Don’t wear tights this time, Jamie’s possessive note reads, clipped to the hanger. I want to see those legs.

  I bite my lip to stop myself from making a whimpering noise of lust as I take the dress down.

  I lay it out on the bed and then glance at the clock, seeing that I have two hours until the car is due to arrive.

  Possibilities dance inside of me when I try to figure out just what the heck is going on here.

  My thoughts try to skirt toward one very distinct possibility, but I don’t let them, won’t let them just in case I’m wrong and the whole edifice of this new me I’m building comes crashing down.

  No, it’ll be better to simply live in the moment and let tomorrow take care of itself.

  I walk into the ensuite, the lights automatically flickering on and the heated floor coming to life as soon as my feet make contact with it.

  I glance at myself in the mirror, but I don’t immediately drag my gaze away like I normally do.

  Instead, I force myself to stare at the girl in the mirror.

  I move my eyes over her curves and her pale face.

  I let my gaze linger on the indents of her hips and her large breasts and her large thighs.

  “He wants me,” I whisper, feeling silly but saying the words anyway. “He wants me because …”

  I bite down, pushing the words away.

  But then a second later I summon all the courage inside of me, all the courage that he’s ushered into me and that I never could’ve dreamed of possessing before.

  “He wants me because I’m beautiful,” I gasp, letting the words barr
el into me. “He. Wants. Me. Because. I’m. Beautiful.”

  It’s the first time in my life I’ve ever said something positive about my appearance, and I just know I wouldn’t have been able to if it wasn’t for him, my man, my savior.

  I walk to the shower.

  “On, warm,” I say, and the jet flow springs to life and rushes loudly, but not loud enough to blot my thoughts about what sort of surprise Jamie has in store.

  The car is driven by a chauffeur separated by an opaque soundproofed screen, meaning that as we drift toward our destination it almost feels as though I’m being driven by nobody.

  I content myself with resting my head against the glass and watching the city drift by, and then the water as we drive over the bridge out of the city, and then finally the rolling hills as we enter the countryside.

  Finally, we come to a gated community an hour outside the city, my nerves pricking and buzzing like I’m being swarmed in starlight.

  I release my lip when I feel the ache in my mouth.

  I think I’ve been biting it ever since I stepped foot in the car.

  We drive past rows of large detached houses or maybe calling them houses is a bit of an understatement.

  Each one is a massive sprawling building enclosed in a gate of its own, with a large front garden, several of them with fountains currently not in use because of the whirling snow.

  On and on, until we come to the last house in the community, the largest of them all, the gate elegant black wrought iron with stone gargoyles sitting on either side of it.

  As we approach the gate, I read the sign that sits just above the keypad.

  The driver must press the keypad because the gate opens and we drive up the winding gravel pathway, past the biggest stone fountain I’ve seen yet, and then the car comes to a stop at the foot of a large set of steps.

  I climb out the air pricking at my bare thighs, walking on shaky legs up the steps and toward the imposing door. I half expect somebody to burst from the house, snapping at me to get the heck off their property.

  But when the door opens, my man is standing there, his face freshly shaven and his eyes immediately magnetizing to my bare legs, and then to my face where a smirk twitches his lips and lights up his features. His steel colored suit hugs tightly to his body, making me want to grab and savor the feel of his muscles.

 

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