His Woman

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His Woman Page 7

by Cassandra Dee


  “So you can cook?” she asked.

  “Yes ma’am,” I’d said softly. “Hamburgers, chili, soups, anything that will keep you warm in the cold of winter,” I said. I was handy at the stove. Being a latchkey kid had taught me take care of myself early on.

  “Well, this rooming house boards twenty men, and we’re filled to the rafters right now,” she said. “It’s oil season, and we’ve got men from all over working the rigs, hungry as can be. You think you can keep up?” she said doubtfully.

  “I know I can!” I exclaimed. “I often had to cook for cousins, so I’m good with large groups and hearty food,” I said. “I can stretch a dollar to feed twenty men if I have to.”

  She liked the sound of that and nodded. “Right then. You’ll be an assistant to Rosie, our head chef. Wages are $200 per week plus room and board. What are you going to do with your boy while you work?” she asked.

  “Is … is there day care around here?” I asked timidly.

  “There ain’t no formal daycare, but Miss Lyons across the street takes children into her home for a few hours a day. Why don’t you ask there?”

  Fortunately, everything had been settled. Georgie and I moved into our own room in the boarding house. Miss Lyons miraculously had a slot open, and I dropped Georgie off each morning before starting my shift in the kitchen. It was hard work, but I wasn’t above honest employ. I’d started washing dishes and chopping vegetables, but Miss Rosie now trusted me with desserts and breads, even if I hadn’t moved onto the main course yet.

  But we were a happy bunch. My little boy smiled at me once again and I scooped him up in my arms. We’d have a new addition soon, and I could feel the baby beginning to stir.

  19

  Liam

  The discovery that Alison was gone filled me with grief. I’d sunk into a deep depression upon returning home and realizing that her small satchel had disappeared, the only traces of her the echoes of laughter in the empty apartment.

  And she’d taken my son again. I’d fallen in love with Georgie during our brief acquaintance, the little boy an image of me that could not be denied. I was hell bent on dragging them back, but knew that my Wildflower would only run again. She’d run once before, and my beautiful bride would continue to run so long as she didn’t feel safe.

  I’d been incandescent with anger at the interruption to our wedding. I’d already destroyed Sabrina through a few well-placed phone calls. She’d never be welcome at the elite clubs and social gatherings that were everything to a bitch with her fucked-up values.

  But how the fuck had Sabrina located Alison’s birth certificate? Sabrina was crafty, but certainly not hard-working enough to mine the musty storage rooms of the New York City Register. I’d interviewed everyone on my staff but discovered no leak. It was only ruminating in the dark confines of my office that I realized there was someone I’d never spoken to: Alison’s mom.

  I’d driven out to the Bronx, intent on confrontation. It was this bitch who must have spoiled our union, with Sabrina as her pawn. I’d pounded on the door to a derelict house, the paint peeling and shutters drooping from their hinges. I’d expected to see someone rundown and aged, but the woman who’d opened the door had been unexpectedly beautiful, with a strong resemblance to her daughter. Her blonde hair was faded, but swept into an elegant updo, and she wore a cashmere sweater even if there were holes at the elbows.

  She knew who I was immediately.

  “Liam Miller,” she greeted. “I wondered when you’d piece two and two together.”

  I’d barreled into her home, the interior shabby and makeshift. But somehow, I couldn’t look down on it. This was where my wildflower had grown up, and I couldn’t make fun of her past, even as I wanted to burn the place down.

  “Tell me where she is,” I growled.

  “I don’t know,” said Lilly Johnson. “Don’t you?” she looked at me questioningly. I’d set detectives on Alison’s trail, but hadn’t been able to pin her location yet. All I knew was that she was somewhere out west, with my baby in tow.

  “Why did you do it?” I growled, not even bothering to re-hash the unfortunate turn of events.

  “Ah, your wedding,” said Lilly slowly. “Before I get into that, Liam, let me tell you a bit about Alison’s life here. Have you any idea what it was like for her to grow up in the Bronx? Look around you. I raised my daughter here, scraping by without a penny to spare, while you, your mother, and your sister lived in the lap of luxury. My Alison had nothing, while you and your family had everything,” she said bitterly.

  “You’re jealous of us?” I asked disbelievingly. “You should blame Robert Woodson,” I said roughly. “He’s the one who left you.” My stepfather was Alison’s biological dad, and had deserted Lilly when he’d found out she was pregnant.

  “I don’t blame Robert for leaving,” she said. “But it was the fact that he forgot about us. He didn’t care about his own daughter. He didn’t send a penny our way, instead lavishing his riches on you and your sister.”

  I stopped short. “Lady, you’ve got this all wrong. I don’t know where you’re getting your information, but the family wealth comes from my family, and not Robert.”

  “Of course,” she said. “You’re chairman of Atlantis Records. But Robert was the one who raised you in the lap of luxury.”

  “No,” I said slowly, shaking my head. “My mother is a scion of the Phelps clan, an old banking family from Long Island. When she married Robert, Robert was not much more than a small-town lawyer. It was my mom and her trust fund that paid for our apartment on Fifth Avenue,” I said.

  “But,” she sputtered. “But Robert Woodson is a partner at an investment fund! He’s running for political office! No one can do that without deep pockets.”

  “That’s right,” I nodded again. “My mom’s pockets. The hedge fund was set up for Robert by the Phelps family so that he could have a respectable position, but it’s never made the kind of money needed for our lifestyle. His campaign is being funded by my mom’s trust even now,” I said, gesturing with my hands. “Maybe he never gave Alison anything, but that’s because he never had anything to give,” I said. “The trust ensured that all the money stayed in the family.”

  Lilly turned a deathly shade of white. Her mouth opened and closed a few times but only a raw choking sound came out. She sat down limply on an ottoman and buried her face in her hands.

  “What have I done? What have I done?” she moaned as she rocked back and forth.

  Although I’d come to destroy this woman, I no longer felt anything but pity for the old lady in her ramshackle house. She wanted to destroy my mother’s happiness, but her reasons had been completely baseless and wrong. The end result was that she’d only harmed her own daughter.

  “I’m going now,” I said to no one in particular. Lilly didn’t seem to hear me as she rocked back and forth, this time with cries of “Alison, forgive me!”

  I knew my job here was done, and returned to the City to get back on Wildflower’s trail.

  20

  Alison

  “So Alison, can I come in tonight?” said Danny. The big oilman was brawny, with wide shoulders and a shock of red hair. He leaned against the door jamb, looking hopefully into my room with its saggy double bed. Georgie’s crib was in the corner, empty right now as Miss Lyons babysat him.

  “Oh Danny,” I said, gesturing helplessly at the space behind me. “My son will be back soon, and I just can’t,” I said.

  He looked hopefully at me. “Babies don’t know, you know …” he said, his voice trailing off.

  I couldn’t pretend that I’d misunderstood.

  “That’s true, Georgie’s too young to know anything about adult relations, but it doesn’t make a difference,” I said. “I’m just not in a position to entertain male visitors right now. Good night,” I said firmly, stepping into my room and shutting the door.

  I breathed a sigh of relief as Danny’s footsteps retreated down the hall. As the only woman
under forty at the rooming house, I’d attracted my fair share of attention from the oilmen. Quite a few had asked me out, and I’d finally consented to seeing a movie with a big puppydog of a man, Danny. He was harmless, even if he was six foot five and as wide as a refrigerator. But I just wasn’t ready to move on with another man. Thoughts of Liam still ran through my head, and my increasing belly only served to remind me of the one and only male I’d ever love.

  I lay back on my shabby quilt and rubbed my belly gently. A fluttery kick moved against my hand and I laughed softly. He or she was going to be a soccer player!

  I missed Liam desperately and glanced at the phone next to my bed. A call would be prohibitively expensive, but I’d run out on him once with his child, and didn’t want to do it a second time. He deserved to know that he was going to be a father again, even if we couldn’t be together.

  I tentatively picked up the phone and dialed his cell, his number memorized in my heart. A deep male voice answered and ground out, “Are you home?”

  “Y-yes,” I stammered. How did he know who it was?

  “I’ll be right over,” he growled and hung up. I lay back again, my head spinning. How did he know it was me? How did he know where I lived? A few minutes later, I heard the hum of an expensive car pull up outside the boarding house, and lifted my window shade for a peek. A Porsche was parked at the curb, its wheels steaming from the drive. An ominous-looking Liam got out of the car, catching my gaze at the second floor window, and my heart almost stopped. He was as darkly handsome as ever, his blue eyes penetrating with that massive build that made my mouth water. I darted downstairs and flung open the front door.

  He didn’t say a word. I was caught in his embrace, his big arms circling my waist, his lips finding mine for an insistent kiss. Ever the alpha, his tongue thrust between my lips, deepening our contact and unmistakably marking me as his territory. He dragged me up the stairs to my second-floor room, slamming the door shut behind us.

  “What… what are you doing in Alaska?” I gasped. “How did you find me? How did you know where I live?”

  “Shh, no words Wildflower,” he murmured in my ear. “Just feel.”

  Gently, he removed my clothes, dropping the shabby plaid shirt and jeans to the floor. He was tender as he stroked my curves, lovingly cupping my breasts in the palms of his hands, running his fingers softly over my wet slit. When he got to my belly, he traced it reverently, murmuring, “Were you ever going to tell me?”

  I flushed. “Yes, I was calling to say that you’re going to be a father again,” I said simply, letting my body tell its story. He pressed an ear against my burgeoning stomach, worshipping my new curves. “Wildflower,” he ground out. “I can’t wait.”

  I knew what he wanted. I lay back on the quilt as he shucked off his clothes, his male member engorged and aroused. The ten inch length waved proudly in the cold air before he covered me with his body, his warmth surrounding me, penetrating me. With a growl, he took me fully in one motion, his cock entering my depths, making me a whole woman once again.

  “Liam!” I cried out, my body rocking underneath his.

  “Shhh, Wildflower, Wildflower,” he hushed, my name a prayer on his lips. He moved in me like the rolling waves of the sea, with a naturalness born of the surety of belonging. I clasped him to me, his broad shoulders a life raft as I was swept into the escalating whirlpool of sensations. I could feel my body trembling, the heat pooling between my legs and Liam seized a nipple in his mouth, the bud already hard as my pussy undulated beneath him.

  “Oh Liam!” I cried as I orgasmed. My pussy clenched around him for the first time in five months, hungrily milking him as if he’d never been gone. He joined me in release as his cock spurted, wild streams of semen shooting deeply into my cunt, spraying my insides with rope after rope of virile, viscous sperm. I loved every second of it and began crying softly, burying my face against his shoulder.

  Slowly, his hips ground to a halt and he just let me cry for a while, our bodies still entangled in the aftermath of our journey together. He was big, virile, and impossibly sexy, even through the cascade of tears.

  Without pulling out, he caught my lips in a kiss. “Wildflower, we’re getting married,” he stated simply.

  “What do you mean?” I couldn’t process anything with my emotions in overdrive, but Liam seemed grimly determined.

  “We’re in Alaska, which permits marriages between step-siblings,” he said. “If we get married here, everything will be legit and we can start our lives anew.”

  Was it true? Had I been so naïve as to think that all states prohibited marriages between steps?

  “But what about Sabrina? What about our families?” I asked tentatively.

  “They’re taken care of,” he ground out. “Sabrina was nothing, she’ll never show her face again. But your mother …” his voice trailed off. “Your mother was the one who masterminded the whole scheme. Your mom wanted to punish Robert because she believed he purposefully never gave her a cent for your upbringing. But actually, the money was never his. It was always my mom’s family fortune that funded his lifestyle,” he said.

  “My mom?” I asked dumbfounded. “Lilly was the one behind all of this?”

  He nodded grimly. “I was going to destroy her as well, but realized that she was nothing but a sad old lady. And more importantly, the grandmother of our two children,” he said, lightly tracing his fingers over my stomach again.

  But I still had questions.

  “How did you know where I was? How did you find me?” I asked softly.

  “Wildflower, I knew where you were as soon as you arrived in Alaska. You think this boarding house really had a need for an assistant cook? You think Miss Lyons wanted to take another child into her daycare program? I needed to make sure you and Georgie were taken care of, even if you never wanted to see me again,” he said, his anguish apparent in the set of his shoulders.

  “I couldn’t bear the thought that you might never want to see me again, but I followed you here anyways. Imagine my torment when I saw that you were pregnant! I almost confronted you with the knowledge, but knew you had to come to me on your own terms.”

  “Were you going to come to me, Wildflower?” he said. “Are you dating that guy Danny? Tell me no.” His eyes pleaded with me.

  My feelings were so overwhelming that I could do nothing but smile sweetly at him and take him into my arms.

  “Oh Liam, of course not. I’ve missed you so much,” I said, the words rushing out. “Of course I was going to call you. I did, didn’t I? I wanted you to know that you were going to be a father again, and not repeat the mistakes of the past,” I said, cradling him close.

  “And Danny is nothing to me, just a way to break the monotony sometimes,” I added. “But your son is popular here,” I said mischievously. “He’s the new mascot for the Kilukut Boarding House, and the oilmen love him.”

  Liam frowned. “I’m taking you away, you know. You and Georgie both. No child of mine is growing up in a boarding house with a bunch of journeymen hustlers.” But he softened when he saw my silent plea. “But these people have been good to you, and I appreciate that. That’s the thing Wildflower. I’ve realized that I can’t just steamroll you into whatever I want: moving in, having a baby, and getting married. I want, no, I need to make sure that that’s what you want too.”

  “I know, Liam,” I said, throwing my arms around him. “I know.”

  “So Alison Johnson,” he said tentatively, taking my hand in his. “Will you marry me? Will you marry me in this little paradise of a town called Kilukut?”

  My heart overflowed with happiness. With a smile meant only for my man, I nodded and kissed him deeply, letting him feel my overwhelming joy.

  “Yes, Liam. I will marry you,” I murmured, and kissed him again, belonging to him always, now and forever.

  Epilogue

  Alison

  Six months later …

  I looked at Liam playing with our daughter Madel
ine. She was the spitting image of her father, with the same dark hair and blue eyes, but with my dimples and sweet smile. She gurgled happily at him, and I could tell our little girl already had her father wrapped around her finger.

  Liam looked up and caught my eye, smiling with a hint of devilishness. My husband was a handsome specimen of a man, and I felt a lash of heat run through my body, pooling in that secret space between my legs. I shifted Georgie in my arms and leaned forward for a kiss, his tongue immediately snaking between my lips and a telltale bulge forming at his crotch.

  “Now Liam …” I said playfully.

  Our wedding had been nothing but happiness and light. We’d had a small ceremony, inviting only a few friends from Kilukut, and settled into a cottage by the river. Liam managed his business remotely from Alaska, and flew to New York whenever there were pressing issues. But for the most part, he was here with us, starting a new life away from the pains and complications of the old.

  Because you see, Liam is my stepbrother. That fact can’t be controverted. But our love is borne of something more than just step relations. It’s the true feeling of destiny between a man and woman, and no one, and nothing, can deny that.

  I hope my story inspires you not to judge because human beings and human relations will always be complicated, but I’ve been so lucky and happy in my life, and I only wish the same good fortune for everyone around me. The best of luck to you and your family.

  Take care,

  Alison Johnson Miller

  The End

  A Sneak Peek: Client Number 6

  ~The Dial-A-Date Series~

 

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