by Lulu Pratt
“I did my best for you boys,” he said, sitting down heavily.
“I did my best!” Sean burst out. “I have worked every hour to make this business what it is. Are we forgetting that?”
“Nobody is forgetting that,” said Dad. “And it makes it all the more stupid that you threw it away.”
We sat there, the three of us, each mired down in our own thoughts, our own regrets, until Sean suddenly spoke, and this time, his voice had changed. Gone was the cocky confidence, replaced by something I recognized. He was afraid.
“What happens now?” Sean asked quietly.
“I’m going to leave this one to you two,” I said to them. “I’ve always resented being left out of your business discussions, but you know what? There is somewhere I would rather be.”
They didn’t try to stop me leaving, and I was glad. I knew that whatever they came up with, they knew the stakes. They could choose to do the right thing. They could choose between me or the business, and whichever they chose, I knew I was going to be okay. Sitting on the low wall across the road that separated the sidewalk from the green space beyond was Freya, her red-gold hair blowing in the breeze, her eyes serious. I made my way over to her, and she stood up and held out her hand to me.
Chapter 47
FREYA
I SCREAMED AND toppled over sideways, landing in the mud.
“I told you, hold on with your legs as well as your hands!” Keegan shouted, a little exasperated, pulling me out of the mud and paying rather too much attention to rubbing the mud off my ass.
“Horses hate me,” I moaned, offering my hand to the grumpy beast who turned away and huffily stuck its nose into Keegan’s shoulder.
“It’s your first try,” he laughed.
We had been at the farmstead for a week now, interrupted only by the frequent phone calls and emails from the city. While Mr. Callahan spent a chunk of his retirement fund on enough legal advice to make everything go away, the lawyers of Clover House and Dynasty Games tried to find a solution to what Keegan’s dad had called ‘our unfortunate economic consequences’ and what my father had called ‘our financial ruin.’ It hadn’t been until Keegan had arranged to get all our parents in one room that they had come up with a viable alternative to watching all their money disappear in legal costs.
Dynasty Games was to be compensated for their losses by taking over the game-related assets of Clover House. This left Clover House with a gap, and that was to be filled however Keegan saw fit, if he would only return to his post. I was surprised that he agreed – he seemed so happy at the farm, but as he explained, he wanted to use Clover House to do something positive, and this was the opportunity he needed. As for Sean, he was to be given his second chance, much as how Keegan had been in the past, but he was being sent to Dublin, where – much to his embarrassment and Keegan’s delight – he was to work under Mick.
“Don’t worry, I will make sure his rehabilitation goes as well as possible,” Mick assured us. “You know, just like he supported Keegan when he arrived at the Boston office.”
After days of discussions, arguments, tears, and a few reconciliatory hugs, we had made our escape out of the city. This was how it was going to be, Keegan dividing his time between his work in the city and his work in the country. I had teased him that he was like two different people, and he had pounced on me and told me that that was rich, coming from Effie Hancock. We had spent the week looking at the various buildings on the property and making plans to renovate one in particular – a small cabin with a sea view – so Keegan could stay there, and let Chris have his last few years before retirement in the farmstead in peace.
As for me, the job offers kept coming. Beatrix wanted me to head up the new Dynasty Games projects, but I had Taylor in mind for that. Keegan wanted me at Clover House for his social enterprise apps, but I argued that I made it a rule to never fuck the boss, so he changed his mind. No, I had to stick to the plans that I had made for myself before this all started. And so in between feeding horses and walking along the rocky coast, I was making travel plans.
The plan was to fly to Italy. Then I would be traveling by train into France and Spain before flying to Ireland. Keegan would join me there, and we would have a few weeks together before coming back home in time to welcome the newest member of the family. I had promised Beatrix I would be there for the birth of her baby girl, and after that, who knew? I had spent so much time in recent weeks thinking and overthinking every move I made, that it felt so good to just let go of what I should and shouldn’t be doing, and go with the flow for a while.
“What are you thinking about?” Keegan asked, taking my hand.
He guided me gently out of the field, closing the gate and pushing me back up against it, kissing me tenderly.
“I don’t know,” I said. “Just happy to be here, now, with you.”
“Corny,” he said, kissing me again. “You were thinking about Italy, and the French Alps and drinking wine in a Spanish vineyard with a young flamenco guitarist called Pedro!”
“Diego, actually. You got me,” I laughed. “And meeting you in Ireland and showing you just how much I missed you when I was hanging out with Diego.”
“How much do you think that will be?” he asked, his eyes twinkling with quiet laughter.
“Well,” I said, tapping my chin as I thought about it. “It’s hard to put into words…”
“Ah,” he nodded. “I see where this is going.”
“I could show you?” I suggested, looking around. “But where?”
He took my hand and let me to the stable, both of us laughing.
“Here?” he asked, casting his arm around as though it were a palace. “Cleaned out yesterday…”
“Hmmm,” I looked around. “I am not lying down here.”
“Agreed,” he said, lifting me up against one of the stalls and setting me on the ledge, conveniently at his waist height.
He was fumbling between us as I laughed, expecting him to set me down and take me into the house where we would have to be quiet in case Chris was around. But suddenly, he was holding me with one arm, pressing me hard against the door and pulling my jeans down. I wrapped my legs around him and kissed him hard, and then I was in his arms and he was holding me between him and the door and impaling me on his cock. That morning he had made love to me gently as we woke up, but this was rough, urgent sex, and I instantly felt something inside me tighten and begin to pulse around him. He looked up at me.
“Already?” he asked, surprised and smiling.
I threw my head back and was lost in those heady, delicious waves of pleasure as he emptied himself into me.
Epilogue
FREYA
– One year later –
“COME TO AUNTIE Freya!” I called, and Charley crawled her way towards me, an enormous grin on her face. She was intercepted by Keegan, who scooped her up just in time before she toppled over. She squealed with delight, and he zoomed her around the room in his arms.
“He is so good with her,” smiled Mom, sipping her glass of wine before adding. “This place is amazing!”
“Isn’t it?” agreed Beatrix, lowering her voice to a whisper. “But who’s the older lady?”
“That’s Beverly,” I laughed. “She’s Keegan’s best friend.”
They looked at me in amazement, and then back to Beverly who was sitting with Dad and Stan, telling them a dramatic story about how she had narrowly missed being struck by lightning while looking after sheep when she was a child. They were completely enthralled.
“He likes to pretend she is his cleaner, but we all know the truth,” I laughed.
“This is exhausting,” Keegan called from the hallway, still making zooming noises with Charley in his arms.
“Man, don’t I know it,” said Beatrix, smiling happily. Motherhood looked good on her.
“Show me your latest work,” Mom nudged me, and I reluctantly took them through the spare bedroom that Keegan had turned into a sort of makesh
ift studio for me with a view of the Boston skyline. It was strewn with ink tubes and cutting tools. They peeked in from the door as I waded through the clutter and produced some of the finished pieces.
“Shit, Freya!” Beatrix exclaimed. “These are really good!”
“They need a little more work,” I looked at them critically. “But they are getting there.”
I didn’t have a lot of time to work on them – Dynasty Games was in the process of putting out a new product, so I had been helping out with that. It was more of an excuse to gossip with Taylor, really, who had built up the most surprising friendship with my parents and Beatrix. Also, I was enjoying helping on the farm more than I ever thought I would, so I went with Keegan most weekends. I could even ride pretty well now.
I had done pretty well with my artwork, and a local gallery had taken in some graphic prints of drawings I had done in Europe. It was they who had suggested that I would sell more if I could produce something similar of the local area, and so I had spent weeks just walking around the city, taking pictures and sketching. They had sold well, and the gallery asked me to put on a solo exhibition. I had been working on images of rural Massachusetts, so while Keegan chased horses and mended fences, I drew, and distracted him.
Today, my family was there for a sort of low-key housewarming. I had finally agreed to move in permanently with Keegan at his condo. I had already been staying with him most of the time, but as he said, this made it official. He came back into the room, looking exhausted, and dropped Charley into her mother’s arms where she curled up, still giggling.
“I can train horses all day, but trying to get one tiny human to do something has me beat!” he laughed, sitting down and reaching for his wine.
“To tiny humans,” Beatrix laughed, raising her glass.
“To humans of all sizes, and specifically, the ones in this room,” added my dad.
“To Freya agreeing to be my wife,” said Keegan, and they all paused with their glasses half-raised before his words registered. “And making me the happiest I have ever been.”
“To diamonds,” I smiled, and held up my left hand.
***
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Hot Shot
A Bad Boy Sports Romance
(Preview)
I was one of the toughest players on ice – until she melted my heart.
Like most hockey players I went through the one-and-done puck bunny phase.
I knew what my smile did to women and I had no problem using it against them.
But Elyse is different.
Something in her past pushes everyone away, yet she feels safe when she’s with me.
She’s gorgeous and I can’t forget her curves or how she comes alive with my touch.
I’m learning that I can’t deal with problems in real life the way I handle them on the ice.
I’m determined to win her. It’s hard, but with Elyse, I’m playing for keeps.
***Sizzling hot alpha full-length romance novel with no cliffhangers, no cheating, and a guaranteed happily-ever-after***
Dedication
To my fans.
Thank you – now and always.
Chapter 1
ELYSE
I DROVE THROUGH downtown Denver and groaned at the traffic. I was getting together with my best friend for drinks after meeting with an art gallery that was going to show my work in six weeks. Even though I was introverted and lived on the edge of town for a reason, she knew that I’d be in the city, and was determined to get me out for the evening.
Tori was so not introverted. She had bright blonde and red hair and an equally vibrant personality, the total opposite of mine, but I adored her. We’d known each other since high school and remained in Colorado together.
I stopped at a red light and switched the radio to something on my phone. I needed an upbeat song to get me through the next few blocks and in the mood to handle strangers. I smiled when “Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go” played over the speakers of my SUV. There were days I’d rather get caught up in a happy song than deal with the real world, which was why I was a good artist. Tori told me all the time that I just needed to get my talent out there and make a living from it. I’d been working in a cozy little second-hand bookstore to keep busy for the last two years as I created art in my spare time.
I finally saw the bar I was meeting Tori at and made my way slowly to the closest parking garage. I threw everything into my purse and draped it over my body before I checked to make sure I had the keys. Locking the door with a quick press of a button, I made my way to the street and turned right. I glanced around at the people walking around me, smiling as I ducked my head. I had no idea how I was supposed to handle an art show based around my art, but I’d figure it out. That or I’d drink all night.
I pushed my long thick black hair away from my face before grabbing the door handle. I was feeling a little too fancy for this bar, but I was here now. I’d put on a long skirt and blouse for my earlier meeting, and even a little make-up. I searched the large room for Tori, smiling when I saw her bright hair near the end of the bar. I wondered for a moment what I would do if she ever decided to go back to her natural hair color, as the bright colors were what I always searched for when I was looking for her. However, I wasn’t sure even if Tori knew what her natural color was anymore. I started over, pausing when I saw a group of men gathered around her as she laughed at something one of them said. She was the center of attention and in her element.
Tori worked in public relations, and as a result, she knew a lot of people. She represented several celebrities and worked significant events all over the state, even leaving for the West Coast sometimes. I scanned the group tonight, taking in the stocky men curiously. They had to be in sports based on their muscular builds, but I had no idea what team.
Tori looked around with a smile, saw me and waved me over. I sighed to myself as I pressed through her adoring crowd. She waggled her eyebrows at me and sipped her drink with delight before introducing me, with a strong emphasis on my upcoming art show, to the members of the local major league hockey team. I blushed, feeling my face heat, nodding to them as I said hello.
As Tori’s attention was drawn away by a story from one of the men standing next to her, I felt a gentle touch on my elbow.
I turned and faced one of the players grinning at me. He leaned in, “I’ve heard this one before; you might need a drink to get through it. Can I get you one?”
He stood out somehow in this group with an intensity that I didn’t often find in people. His hair was long and hung in slight waves around his face, and his deep green eyes were mesmerizing. He was built like a Greek god.
“I’ll have a margarita, please,” I said quietly.
“Traditional?” he asked, and I nodded. “Here, have my seat, I’ll be back in a moment.” He turned to the bar and was back before I had a chance to come up with an excuse to leave.
“Thank you,” I said as he handed me the glass and a napkin.
“My pleasure.”
“What do you do with the team?” I asked, figuring he would want to talk about himself.
He smirked for a second. “What do I do for the team? I’m guessing you’re not a fan?”
I closed my eyes for a moment. “Busted. I don’t watch a lot of sports. I don’t think I have the attenti
on span,” I admitted, knowing that my mind was always racing a million miles an hour. It was hard to sleep some nights, but that had almost always been the case since my mother died when I was a child. Everyone told me that I survived for a reason. My mom was the kindest person I knew, volunteered for everything, and was a talented artist. Dad told me I got it from her since he worked with investments and had been distant since the tragedy.
“It’s a great game,” he continued, snapping me out of my memories. “There’s a lot of action out there, and it gets under your skin if you give it a chance,” he assured me with a confident grin as I looked into his eyes. He looked like he’d been in a fight or two over the years, and I suspected that he broke his nose at some point; however, it didn’t look bad with the bump on the ridge. “Anyway, I work around the goal to defend it and also take care of my boys when needed.”
“The tough guy?” I asked.
“Something like that. Not your thing?” he queried as I sipped the sweet liquid.
To be honest, violence terrified me. “Not particularly. I’m a bit of a homebody,” I replied in a soft tone.
“That’s what makes you a good artist, isn’t it?” he asked.
“Maybe. I also work in a second-hand bookstore, so that’s equally low key.”
“Tori says you’re the best out there,” he continued, glancing at my friend as she laughed at the story that was still being told. I knew that Tori drew a lot of attention from men in her profession, as well as just in her life. She was such a free spirit that I knew she must have had relationships and flings over the years. Maybe even with women. She was one to have a good time whenever possible, but I didn’t ask for details as I knew she would press me for mine.