The Freeman Brothers: A Secret Baby Romance Collection

by Natasha L. Black

  “You have got to be kidding me,” I said.

  Justin gave me a cruel glare. “Not at all. This is as real as it gets, babe.”

  16

  Nick

  “Cynthia kicked me out of the house,” Gabe said.

  I was so shocked that I nearly dropped my coffee, which would have been a big deal considering it was the first cup of my new limited-edition flavor. French toast with maple syrup. Probably not the most seasonal of options, but the smell was heavenly, and I hadn’t been able to resist when I went into the roaster.

  “She did what?” I asked. “I can’t believe it. The two of you seemed so happy.”

  “We are,” Gabe said. “And she wants to stay that way, so she told me I have to leave and go play with you for the day. Can I come back to work?”

  I laughed. “What did you do?”

  “Made her breakfast,” he said.

  “Why do I think that’s not the full story?”

  “Okay, so I tried to make the fancy caramel banana pancakes her grandmother used to make her when she was a little girl and failed miserably. I really don’t think that warranted me being removed from the house,” he said.

  “I don’t know, I probably would have removed you,” I said. “I think Cynthia is just kind of done feeling like a burden. You’ve been taking great care of her, but you know how independent she’s always been. It has to be killing her to not be able to do anything.”

  “You’re probably right,” Gabe said. “Actually, I know for a fact you’re right. She’s said it to me about a dozen times over the last week. She’s already trying to figure out how she can get back to work by the end of the month.”

  “Is that even an option?” I asked.

  “Not even close,” he said. “But she doesn’t want to hear me remind her of that.”

  “So, another reason you got kicked out of the house?” I asked.

  “Pretty much. So, I’m your problem now,” he said, grinning.

  “I guess I can deal with you for a while. She’s been keeping up with you for a while now. She could use a break,” I said.

  “What are you up to?” he asked, coming the rest of the way into the office.

  “Just going over some of the monthly figures,” I said.

  “Thrilling. How are things looking?”

  “Pretty fantastic, actually. Our customer base is increasing every month, and most of them have ramped up,” I said.

  Things had been going extremely well for my firm. Five years ago, I was working for someone else and wondering if I’d really made the right choice when it came to not staying with the family business. I enjoyed working with investments and knew I wanted to be on my own path, but it didn’t feel like I’d found my way. Working for someone else and always having to do things their way didn’t sit right with me.

  Not that I didn’t like my boss or that I wasn’t a team player. With three brothers, you either learn to cooperate and work together, or you turn against everybody and it goes bad really fast. We were competitive, but all in all, we worked well together. That translated over to my career, and I never found myself pushing back against being without control or feeling bitter about my coworkers.

  It just wasn’t as fulfilling as I thought it was going to be. Then I had a sit-down with my father. Dad was known for his sit-downs. He liked to grab a beer or a whiskey, sit back, and just have a conversation. It seemed casual while it was going on, but inevitably, we would look back and realize he had passed along some sort of wisdom to us.

  The wisdom he gave me back then was not to settle for only going halfway down the road. If I wanted to get somewhere, it wasn’t enough to stop in the middle of the road and just look at that place. I needed to go all the way there. That was when I really started thinking about starting my own firm. My father fronted me the seed money, and I never looked back.

  Now the firm was thriving. I had Gabe handling his own set of clients, and I’d paid my father back more than a year ago. I felt like I was really where I was meant to be, that I had accomplished something I was always supposed to.

  “Are you still thinking we might be ready to bring in a junior investor?” Gabe asked.

  I nodded. “Absolutely. Our client list is growing constantly, and if it keeps going like this, we’re not going to be able to keep up. I want to keep giving all our clients the highest quality service and make sure they can achieve their goals. Having a junior investor will help handle the smaller clients and some of the administrative work, so that will be really helpful.”

  Gabe nodded, making an acknowledging sound. “Do you have anybody in mind yet?”

  “Not yet. I was thinking we could put together a job posting and get it up in the next couple weeks. I would rather not use any of the headhunters. We should choose our own person.”

  As I was finishing speaking, my phone chimed to tell me I got an email. I didn’t look at it, wanting to focus on the work in front of me. It was easy to get distracted and too involved in what a client needed when they emailed, so I preferred to not even look until I had a free minute.

  “I agree,” Gabe said. “You never know, we might find someone the hunters didn’t even notice, but is amazing, and we can mold them into the best investor in the area.”

  I looked at him for a second. “Are we talking about hiring a junior investor, or are you writing a screenplay for the Brat Pack?”

  “They’re in their fifties. I don’t think they count as brats anymore. Also—” He stood up dramatically. “—I don’t have to take this. I’m going to my office.”

  “Something you’ve been wanting to say your whole life?” I asked.

  Gabe turned back to me with a wide grin and nodded. “Yeah.”

  “It was good.”

  “Thanks. I am actually going to my office, though. I need to catch up with some of my clients,” he said.

  When he left, I pulled up my email. Seeing Bryn’s name on the most recent message made me smile. There was nothing really personal about the message. She was just checking in about the plans and giving me her idea of how much seed money she wanted to make for her investments. But it was still good to hear from her. I was looking forward to helping her build her savings back up not just so she could have the money, but so she could put the experience behind her.

  I typed up a quick response to her message agreeing to her seed amount but paused before I sent it. Reading through her message again, I noticed something hesitant about the wording. It was hard to detect tone or emotion behind written words, but her message struck me as unsure. It was almost like she thought my offer was going to disappear. It wouldn’t be the first time an investor played lip service to a client to try to impress them or make them feel better. But that wasn’t what I was doing.

  I was serious about helping Bryn, and I wanted to make sure she knew that. Adding a section to my email response, I mentioned setting up contracts. Even if they were just between the two of us and not the formal ones I used with my regular clients, they would hopefully be a way for her to feel more secure and know this was something she could truly rely on.

  To give her an idea of what my contracts entailed, I attached a basic version. It only took a few moments for her response to pop up into my inbox. When I opened it, I found the contract I sent filled out and signed. Seeing that made me smile. She was taking the whole thing seriously, and also wasn’t trying to pull back or run away because she wasn’t sure what was going to happen.

  I cared about all my clients. At least, I cared about their financial goals and helping them to achieve them. It always made me feel good when they were excited about what was to come and seemed driven to push forward and make things happen. But this was different. For most of my clients, investing was just something they were expected to do. They grew up in families that invested and had strong financial training from the time they were young.

  That didn’t mean that it wasn’t fulfilling to help them build their portfolio. But it was a certain thri
ll to help someone who didn’t have that foundation reach new levels. It was even better with Bryn. I really wanted this for her. And spending the extra time with her didn’t hurt. Not that I was going to let myself think about that. This was a professional arrangement. Not to mention not wanting a commitment and a girl who just got through a rough breakup wasn’t a good combination.

  I printed out the copy of the contract, signed it, and scanned it back to her for her own records. That finished, I checked contacting her off my list of tasks for the day. Her being the one to reach out to me gave my productivity for the day a boost, so I was feeling ahead of the game. Now that Gabe was back in the office, even if it was only on a temporary basis, the days of overwhelming busyness seemed to be behind me.

  I tried to get my mind back into work but was having trouble focusing. Every time I tried to bury myself in the numbers, my thoughts wandered back to the night before and the images that played through my head. I shouldn’t have been thinking about Bryn that way. I definitely shouldn’t have been getting myself off when thinking about her that way.

  But I couldn’t help it. This girl was getting under my skin. I couldn’t put my finger on exactly what it was about her. She was beautiful, there was no denying that. And she was funny and charming when she had moments of brightness through her anger. There was more than that, though. There was something else that kept making me lose myself in thinking about her. I’d never had this kind of reaction to a woman before, and it was getting to me.

  Even with the productivity boost and having Gabe back in the office, and perhaps a little bit because of that, I ended up staying at the office late. As I was leaving, my phone rang. Seeing my brother’s name on the screen surprised me.

  “Hey, Darren,” I said.

  “Are you just leaving work?” he asked.

  I paused. “How did you know?”

  “Look to your left,” he said.

  I looked over and saw my youngest brother walking down the sidewalk toward me, waving. I waved back and ended the call.

  “What are you doing over in this neck of the woods?” I asked, walking toward him.

  “Just running a couple wedding errands,” he said. “Kelly is having a video call with her twin and her mother, and that can last for hours.”

  “Have you had dinner?” I asked.

  “Not yet.”

  “Good. Neither have I. Let’s go grab something.”

  We headed for the bar and sat down to Lindsey’s famous massive burgers. It was good to hang out with my brother, just being able to catch up for a while before he headed home to his fiancée. The bar was busy that night, so I didn’t get a chance to chat with Lindsey. I was getting in my car to head home when my phone rang again. This time it wasn’t one of my brothers, or even Lindsey calling to yell at me for leaving. Instead, it was Bryn.

  “Hi, Bryn,” I said.

  I started to say more before she burst into a tirade. She sounded blisteringly angry, angrier than I had ever heard her. I could barely understand anything she was saying, but it was enough to catch the name “Justin.” Without hesitation, I turned around and detoured to her place.

  17

  Bryn

  Never in my life had I been that angry. Even the day I’d found out about Justin stealing all my money and we broke up. Even the day when I had to go through the house and start taking apart all the different reminders of what used to be our relationship. Those days I was seriously angry, but it was nothing compared to this. The fury seared inside me, and I couldn’t stand still.

  Every time I had tried to pause and sit down, I couldn’t take it. There was far too much pent-up energy burning through my veins and tensing up my muscles. All I could do was pace back and forth, gripping the phone beside me so hard it was cutting into my palm. This was a whole new level. A new degree of disrespect I just couldn’t tolerate.

  It seemed like hours passed between me calling Nick and him pulling up in front of the house. Seeing him made me realize I didn’t even know why he was the one I called. It didn’t make sense. Experiencing something like that should have had me calling a girlfriend to vent. Instead, Nick was the first name that came to mind.

  I tried to tell myself it was because he was involved in this entire situation with Justin. He was the one who understood what happened and the legal issues that went into it. Considering I was still determined to pursue any legal action that might even be possible, Nick was my backup. He heard the story within days of it happening and did the in-depth research into it, so he understood the ins and outs.

  But if I was really being honest with myself, I would have to admit that calling Nick was just because I wanted to talk to him. I wanted to hear his voice and tell him what was going on. That was too much for me to think about right then, so I pushed the thought out of my mind and instead just watched him get out of the car.

  The door was still standing open from when Justin stomped out. He didn’t even have the decency to close it behind him, and I didn’t want to get anywhere near it after he walked out. I looked through it now as Nick jogged up the sidewalk toward me. He came inside, and I gestured to the door.

  “Can you believe that?” I asked.

  “What? The door?” Nick asked. “Is there something wrong with it?”

  “He didn’t even bother to close it.”

  “Who? Justin?”

  “Yes,” I said, spinning around and stomping further into the house.

  Nick closed the door and took a few steps further inside. “He came here?”

  “He didn’t even call me to ask if it was alright. He just showed up. Then he started storming around the house, demanding everything that he says belongs to him. Of course, he was trying to take a whole lot of stuff that wasn’t even close to his,” I said.

  “Like what?” Nick asked.

  “Decorative things that were here before he even moved in. Some electronics I bought. Camping equipment. Even the slow cooker. What was he trying to pull with that? Was he planning on going home and whipping up a nice batch of chili to celebrate ransacking my house?” I asked.

  “What did you do?” Nick asked.

  “I told him those things weren’t his and he needed to leave before I called the police and got them involved. He said I’m keeping his things away from him and trying to manipulate him with them so I can keep hanging on to him. Can you believe that? He seriously thinks I would keep the box of clothes stuffed in my closet and his cheap steak knives so he would be forced to come here and interact with me.”

  “Did he take the things that did belong to him?”

  “Yes. And it wasn’t much. I managed to throw most of what he owned out onto the lawn the day I found the papers. I couldn’t find everything before he left that day, so there were still a few scraggling things. He got those and put them in his car, then was trying to come back for more stuff, but I wouldn’t let him take anything. He was being so much of an ass I almost smacked him,” I said.

  “Was his name ever on the lease?” Nick asked.

  “No,” I said. “And I know all about the occupancy laws and everything. He lived here long enough that I couldn’t actually force him out of the house. If he had just refused to leave that day, I would have had to go through the courts to get him out. But he left voluntarily. He took his belongings and established residence somewhere else, so he lost that claim.”

  “Good. I’m glad you thought about that.” Nick let out a breath. “I’m sorry you’re having to deal with this. Is there anything I can do for you to help you feel better aside from listening to you rant?”

  He looked into my eyes, and a delicious thrill went up my spine. I grinned at him. Nick obviously immediately understood what I was thinking, and before I even said a word, he nodded. We rushed toward each other, latching onto each other in a deep kiss. An instant later, I dragged him into the bedroom and kicked the door closed behind us.

  As the door slammed behind him, I jumped into his arms. He grabbed me with his stro
ng grip under my ass and held me aloft, high enough that our mouths were at the same level. I pressed my lips to his, and they opened hungrily, our tongues searching and finding each other. I breathed in the taste of him, driving my desire higher and letting the anger melt away into a need for him. I craved his skin, and I tore at his shirt to get it open. His back pressed against the door as he held me, fingers digging deep into my ass.

  Walking me away from the door, Nick sat me down on the edge of the bed and removed the rest of his shirt. I launched at him, pulling him by his hips toward me so I could run my tongue along his chiseled chest and rock-hard abdomen. While I did so, I reached for his belt and began to yank it away, digging for the bulge that I could see pressing against the zipper of his pants. He reached down below my mouth and pulled my chin up to look at him and grinned. That grin sent a thrill up my spine, and the tingle between my thighs turned into white-hot craving.

  His hands reached down to mine and pulled them away. He was slowing me down, making me go at his pace, and a shudder ran through me at the measure of control he was showing. What’s more, I wanted to give him that control. I wanted to pleasure him with my body, to satisfy him so fully that he exploded, and never forgot the way I touched him. Smirking still, he reached down and unzipped his pants and shimmied them off himself. My eyes grew wide as I watched him pull his boxers down achingly slowly, revealing his cock inch by inch.

  Finally, it sprung out at me, and my ability to not touch him ceased. I plunged forward, wrapping my hand around his base and my lips over his head. He moaned deeply, and I dropped to my knees in front of him, taking him as deeply into my throat as I dared. I nearly choked when he reached the back of my throat and slid him back out again. I stroked him onto my tongue and dove down again, making sure to slide my other hand up and massage his balls underneath.