After Her Flower Petals: A Second Chance Romantic Comedy (The Svensson Brothers Book 7)

by Alina Jacobs

  “It’s all covered in water now, Meg,” one of the other judges said.

  I grinned.

  “Let’s call it a tie!” another judge decided.

  “He didn’t even bake anything!”

  “It’s all for fun,” I reminded Meg, shaking my head, the water dripping down my face.

  There were chants from the drunks in the audience of “Hunter for mayor!” I pumped the flamethrower into the air to loud cheers.

  “Good showing,” I told Meg, holding out my hand.

  She glared at it. “You’re covered in soot and raw egg.”

  “I assure you, Meg, the eggs are no longer raw.”

  “Ugh.”

  I reached out for her.

  “Don’t touch me,” she warned. “You’re all wet.”

  “No, you’re all wet.”

  She rolled her eyes.

  “Come out with me,” I said.

  She glared at me. “I’m busy.”

  “It’s Saturday. We just got done baking. Besides”—I smirked at her—“I want to eat some of your tiramisu.”

  “It’s funny,” she said thoughtfully, “because one of my fantasies was eating tiramisu while I rode your cock.”

  Shit.

  “Hunter!” one of my brothers barked. It was Crawford.

  Meg’s eyes lit up. “Ooh, who’s that?”

  A slow grin spread over my half brother’s face. He jumped up onto the stage like a panther. He was wearing his leather motorcycle clothes, and Meg looked way too excited to see him.

  “Do you know each other or something?” I asked.

  “No,” Crawford drawled, “but I sure would like to.”

  “Get away from her. She’s mine,” I snarled at him.

  Crawford leveled his gaze at me. “You put potatoes in your fucking tiramisu.” He smiled at Meg. “You want someone who can give you an orgasm…”

  I sucked in a breath.

  “…Inducing dessert?” Crawford snickered. “Call me.”

  “Don’t you dare try and steal her from me.”

  “Relax,” my half brother said. “It’s obvious she has you right where she wants you—by the balls.”

  Greg was furious when he found me. “You almost burnt down the town!”

  “And it was fucking amazing!” Weston said, giddy. “This video is about to go viral!”

  “We don’t need any more bad publicity,” Greg warned, trying to snatch the phone away from Weston.

  “Just add the complaints onto today’s agenda.”

  “What agenda?”

  I had plans, and it included Meg in skimpy lingerie.

  “Your deadline is up,” Crawford reminded us. “I need to see results.”

  I looked over toward Meg as we headed to the bus, and there was Walter talking to her, touching her arm.

  “Don’t worry about him,” Garrett said loftily. “We’re going to kill that relationship before it even starts.”

  55

  Meghan

  “Hunter’s stupid flame-ball video is going viral,” Kate complained after I had talked baking with a number of excited women and girls. They were all very impressed with my blush-pink appliances.

  “The people who only wanted flash and no substance were going to vote for him anyways,” Susie assured me, stealing a bite from one of the tiramisu ramekins. “I’m actually really impressed with your baking skills.”

  “I’m very impressed!”

  “Hey, Walter!” Kate greeted her boss.

  He leaned over and kissed my cheek.

  “Oh, uh…”

  “Hunter seems otherwise engaged,” he murmured. “Do you want to try again for our date?”

  “I um—”

  “She’s in the middle of a down and dirty campaign tactic,” Kate told Walter. “Keeping Hunter off-balance.”

  “Political and underhanded. I think you’re the woman of my dreams,” Walter told me.

  “Er…” I started to sweat.

  “After you win the election and you dump Hunter in the gutter where he belongs, I’ll be waiting.” Walter kissed my hand.

  “Sure!” I squeaked.

  “Wow, two hot billionaires after you!” Susie joked after Walter and Kate had left.

  “It’s not all that it’s cracked up to be,” I replied, taking a big bite of tiramisu.

  “Maybe you can swing a swanky apartment from one of them,” Susie said as she helped me carry all my baking supplies back home. With the bake-off festival, there was no way I would have been able to park close by.

  “I can’t come live with you?” I half joked.

  “If you want to live in a small cabin with an old dog, sure, but it is a drive into town. Are you sure your car is going to be able to handle that?”

  “You jest but probably not.” I felt dejected. “Ugh, what am I going to do?”

  “You’ll win and get a pay raise and be able to afford your own apartment, one in a building not owned by Hunter.”

  “I want my house back.”

  “I know,” Susie said, “but maybe this is good for you. That house had some not-so-good memories. This is a fresh start. You can declutter your life, detox and curate your possessions.”

  “Not if I can’t even get access to them.”

  “The forms just have to wind their way through the bureaucracy,” Susie reassured me. “At least now that you’re sleeping with Hunter, he can pay for all your meals.”

  “Shh, not so loud!”

  Susie snorted. “Girl! It is all around town. The bookies won’t let people collect their money, though. They said that you two don’t count as back together until you’re married or moved in together.”

  “Move in? Marriage? That sounds serious.”

  “I’m sure Hunter would jump at the chance,” Susie said as I balanced the box on my hip while tapping my key card on the apartment building door.

  “He seems into you.”

  “I’m sure he has an ulterior motive.”

  Susie sighed. “You know, sometimes it’s healthier to just let go of your grudges. You’ve been mad at him for years.”

  “Not mad,” I protested as we stepped onto the elevator. “I just have a clear-eyed view of the type of man he is.” I stared at my reflection in the elevator doors. “He’s egotistical, manipulative…”

  “Hot, rich, infatuated with you…”

  “He wants something.”

  “Even if he does,” Susie said as we walked down the hall, “it’s not like he can really control you. You’re not some naïve twentysomething. You have a job. Once the paperwork goes through, maybe you’ll have your house back, maybe not. Just let him wine and dine you. Go on some dates with him. You’re always complaining you never go on nice dates.”

  “I don’t know if he wants to,” I admitted as I unlocked the door. “We really sort of have just been boinking.”

  Susie and I stopped short as I opened the door.

  “Holy shit. Forget dating, just go ahead and accept his marriage proposal.”

  I looked around. There were scores of huge bouquets of flowers in my apartment. It looked and smelled like a fairy-tale wonderland.

  “This is like A Little Princess level of decoration,” Susie said. “You can’t tell me this isn’t impressive.”

  It was impressive. And Hunter had pulled this type of thing before and then turned around and screwed me. But maybe Susie was right. I had more control now. I was a boss-ish. Why didn’t I just enjoy myself? If Hunter screwed me over, there was always Walter.

  I grabbed one of the bouquets and buried my face in the soft flowers.

  “He sent you a card too,” Susie said, plucking it out of one of the other dozens of pink-, white-, and cream-colored bouquets.

  “Oh jeez.” She fanned herself.

  I snatched it out of her hand.

  Roses are red

  Violets are blue

  Show me your tits

  And I’ll come in you

  “And they say
romance is dead!” Susie said with a giggle.

  I peeked at the card again after she left.

  All of the sex pictures and sexy messages I’d been sending him had been slowly building up my desire for Hunter. I took off my shirt, pushing one of the bouquets under my tits, and snapped a few pictures.

  Hunter: I knew those flowers would look good on you.

  Meg: It’s too bad you didn’t lose.

  Hunter: Of course you’re salty about that.

  Meg: Because I had a big consolation prize all planned for you.

  Meg: But I guess that’s not happening now.

  Hunter: Shit. You should have told me.

  Meg: I figured after that literal flaming disaster, they would have just thrown you out.

  Hunter: I’ll come by tonight. I have to finish my family stuff.

  Meg: I don’t know if I can wait that long.

  Hunter: Not for that. I mean obviously I’m going to fuck your brains out. But let me take you out on a date.

  Maybe Hunter was serious? But was I? Sex with Hunter was one thing… we all made mistakes. Dating was in the forgive-and-forget territory.

  What if he’s changed?

  But had he?

  Hunter: Girl Meets Fig has their new rooftop open. I know you like a skyline view.

  I did love a skyline view.

  Meg: Okay, sounds fun.

  I regretted it as soon as I sent the message. A date with Hunter? The last time I had been on a date with him had been years ago. Ever since then, our interactions had been acrimonious, or sexual, or sexually acrimonious. A date was… you had to make friendly, flirty conversation. You weren’t supposed to call the guy who was paying for your dinner a self-absorbed psychopath. You had to dress up.

  Crap. I literally didn’t have anything to wear.

  I pawed through my closet, trying to talk myself off the ledge.

  Meg: Help! Hunter wants to go on a date!

  Kate: Good! Reel him in.

  Meg: I thought you were on Team Walter.

  Kate: I’m on Team Meg. I know how you pined after Hunter.

  Meg: I didn’t pine.

  Kate: You did. It was pathetic. But he is good-looking, and remember when he ordered us that fantastic breakfast?

  Meg: It was a nice breakfast.

  Meg: Gah! Are we so easily bribed by food?

  Kate: We are shallow.

  Meg: What am I going to wear???

  Kate: It’s not like you guys are going out to a swanky bar in Manhattan, right? Just wear some jeans and a low-cut top.

  Meg: I need to make more of an effort.

  Kate: Let me see what’s in your closet.

  I video chatted her.

  “Let’s have a look,” Kate said, peering through the screen. “Band tee, cutoff shorts, and rows and rows of cheap suits. You could re-wear the sexy debate dress.”

  “I spilled chipotle sauce on it.”

  Kate sighed.

  The doorbell rang.

  “Is that him?” Kate shrieked.

  “I hope not.” I opened the door. There was a courier standing there with a long shallow white box wrapped with a large red ribbon.

  “Delivery for Meghan Loring,” he said, handing me a tablet to sign.

  “What is it? What is it?” Kate yelled through the phone screen.

  I opened the package. Inside the white tissue paper was a note card with Hunter’s handwriting.

  I figured you would say yes to the date.

  And if you didn’t, then I am still available to come fuck you in this dress.

  “Good lord,” Kate said, fanning herself. “Maybe you should just skip the date!”

  56

  Hunter

  “Can you pay attention?” Greg snapped at me. We were in the home office. Though the room was huge, it still felt a bit crowded with all of us in there—especially with Crawford. He paced around the room.

  “You cannot raid the compound,” Garrett insisted. “I have plans in motion.”

  “I don’t care,” Crawford barked. “You all had years to figure this out.” His upper lip curled, and he looked at me. “Hunter is a classic example. You let Meg jerk you around. You have all these elaborate schemes to try and win her back as opposed to taking charge and telling her that she is your woman.”

  “I’m not Dad; I’m not just going to kidnap her and drag her off back to my house.”

  “And you’re implying that’s what I would do?” Crawford snarled.

  “Fuck you, Crawford,” Greg said, jumping up. “You can’t just breeze back in here acting like you’re the only person able to save our sisters. The situation is more complicated than that.”

  “It’s not.”

  “It is,” Garrett insisted. “Dad’s going to see you coming a mile away. He’ll have his cult members run off with the girls. Then he’ll probably call the state troopers on you for trespassing.”

  “You tried this before, and it didn’t work,” I reminded him. “Leif is manipulative; look what happened to Parker.”

  “Parker’s a weak little shit,” Crawford said. “Besides, I’ve learned from the last time. I’m hitting all his compounds in one go.”

  “You don’t even know where they are,” I countered.

  “Weston and Blade do.” My half brother grinned.

  “You fucking traitors.” Garrett turned on Weston and Blade.

  Weston was apprehensive, but Blade didn’t back down.

  “Crawford’s right. You all have been playing games for years like this is some chess match and not our siblings’ lives. I’ve been tracking Dad’s money and whereabouts. I have the compound locations. If Crawford raids them at once, he has a good shot of ending this.”

  “And then what?” Garrett said, tone acerbic. “You think Leif will roll over and give up?”

  “He will if we have our siblings,” Weston insisted. “The sister wives will scatter with them, sure, but we’ll pay them off, and they’ll hand the kids over to us. Once we have our sisters, we’re in the clear. Dad will be hard pressed to take custody of them because possession is nine-tenths of the law.”

  “That is not how the law works.”

  “Shut up, Hunter,” Garrett said, then turned his attention back to Blade. “And then what? Leif’s just going to come back here and demand we hand the girls over.”

  “They’ll testify that they’re scared of him, that he was abusive. We can show that he abandoned the other children. There’s a pattern,” Weston said.

  “The courts aren’t going to just hand over little girls from one male to another. Hunter’s the one on the foster care paperwork.”

  “It sounds like Hunter needs a girlfriend,” Crawford said. “No one’s going to say that Meg wouldn’t be the best choice for our sisters.”

  Shit. “How sure are you?” I demanded.

  “A hundred percent!” Weston said.

  “Blade, I’m asking you.”

  “Ninety?”

  “It would be better if we all worked together,” Weston insisted.

  “They’re not going to.” Crawford scoffed.

  “Greg,” Weston pleaded. “Let’s end this once and for all.”

  Remy, who had been silently sitting on the couch in the corner, stood up. “I’m coming with you,” he said to Crawford. Remy had had, as they said, a bad war. I dreaded to think what raiding the compound would do to his psyche.

  “You can’t,” I said in concern.

  “This is important.” He was twisting the hem of his shirt.

  “Are you sure you’re up for this?” Crawford asked him.

  Remy nodded. “It has to be the last time. The final blow.”

  “You all sound like nutcases,” Garrett finally spat. “This isn’t a movie. You’re not going to look like heroes. You’re going to end up in jail.”

  “Then help us,” I said.

  “Not you too!” Greg was furious.

  I blew out a breath. “Maybe we need to do something unexpected.” I h
eld up a hand to stop Garett’s protests. “If we raid the compound and rescue our sisters and younger siblings, then we need something to ensure that he can’t come after us.”

  “Garrett?”

  “No.”

  “I’m sure you’ve been collecting some sort of blackmail on him. Otherwise, what was Belle doing there?” I asked.

  “I want him in jail.”

  “So do I, but sometimes you have to make sacrifices. Family is important.”

  “Fine,” Garrett said. “But I’m not bailing anyone out of prison. You can sit there and rot.”

  “Greg?”

  He started laughing. “You’re such a fucking hypocrite, Hunter.”

  “What is wrong with you?”

  “You’re going to be the one that will ruin their crackpot plan, though I hesitate to use that word.” Greg sneered.

  “No I’m not!”

  “The whole plan,” Greg said, tone mocking, “hinges on you and Meg getting back together. You’re a licensed foster parent, and so is she because of her sisters. The judges will give the two of you our sisters because you’re more or less a happy, two-parent home. So you have to lie to her and make her fall back in love with you long enough to grab the rights to our sisters away from Leif.”

  The panic started to set in. Greg could see it on my face. “I’ll drop out of the election,” I said. “Tell her that I want to be with her and don’t want it to come between us.”

  “She’ll think something’s up,” Greg said. “She’s not stupid.”

  “This is my only shot at winning her back,” I said softly.

  “Family’s important,” Garrett mocked.

  “Can’t someone else do it?” I begged.

  “We’re leaving tonight,” Crawford said, nodding to Remy. “It’s not enough time to license anyone else as a foster parent.”

  This was exactly the reason Meg had thrown me out the last time. She had thought I was using her to take care of my siblings. Now that was exactly what I was doing.

  “I don’t think having him drop out of the election will help. Push comes to shove,” Greg said, “we’ll need Hunter’s dropping out of the mayoral race as a bargaining chip to make her play ball.”