Marrying My Best Friend's Sister: A Billionaire Enemies to Lovers MC Romance (Secret Love)

by Nikki Bloom

  I was still blinking uncomprehendingly, even as a voice in the back of my mind was dancing a jig because she was right – problem solved. If I had to have someone in my space 24/7 without worrying about them violating my trust, it would be Morgan’s sister.

  There has to be a catch.

  On first run-through, I could not think of any. Still, I leaned back in my chair, face closed. “Well…” I picked up the blank check and handed it to her. “You’ve certainly earned your fee. Now I think we should both consult our lawyers to see how to best go about this. Why don’t we reconvene on Tuesday for final talks?”

  She looked down at the check and then back at me. “I don’t want your money.”

  I leaned forward, holding her gaze. “See? That’s where you go wrong. Always know your worth and the value of your ideas. Make people work for them. Barring any huge stumbling blocks, you’ve solved a major hassle of mine that will earn me a lot of money. Take your cut in good faith. If you don’t want to spend it, you can always give it to charity.”

  She blinked at me slowly as if seeing me for the first time and then folded the check and put it in the pocket of her sweatpants. “Fine. But in that case, you made a big mistake leaving it blank.”

  That surprised a bark of laughter out of me. “Do your worst, Innes.”

  Her thick elegant brow quirked in a very attractive way, cat eyes staring at me in hazel suspicion. They somehow managed not to look incongruous above her freckle-covered button nose. She looked like a little gangster fairy. Not that I would ever say that to her face. She’d probably cut me if I tried.

  Getting to her feet, she nodded to me and then high-fived her brother before leaving without another word. I watched her go and then turned to find Morgan watching me. He shook his head. “This better not get messy, Dom.”

  I lifted my hands in surrender. “Hey, I’m the innocent party remember. Your sister is the one who came up with the idea.”

  “Yeah, and you are way too enthusiastic about it.”

  I considered my friend objectively. “So would it really be so bad if we…”

  “If you what?”

  “If we got together.”

  Morgan’s eyes narrowed. “You mean as in a serious relationship or a fling?”

  “Morgan, come on, she’s your sister. You think I’d have a fling with her?”

  Fuck him for having to think about it. “Well, no. I guess not. But that girl is prickly and I don’t even blame her. You better take her slow.”

  “Yeah, I know. Treat her like a lady.”

  Morgan snorted. “I don’t know about that. She might take it the wrong way.”

  “Man, no offense, but your sister takes everything the wrong way.”

  His mouth twisted before he conceded the point. “True. I’ll still be obligated to kick your ass if you hurt her.”

  “Duly noted,” I replied drily, my mind still boggling at the fact that we were discussing me and Nico…together. Who’d a thunk it? Certainly not me.

  Morgan leaned in, his face as serious as I’d ever seen it. “I mean it, Dom. This is meant to be a business arrangement, right? You get a wife, she gets some leverage, you both get what you want. This isn’t some game.”

  I met his eyes and nodded slowly. “Hey, I got it okay. No game. Strictly business.”

  Morgan nodded once in return. “Good, cause the last thing that girl needs in her life is confusion. And I know you’d treat her with respect but, man, let’s face it. You go through women like tissue paper and-”

  I reached out and closed my hand around his wrist. Me and Morgan spent a lot of time together, but we didn’t touch much. So I knew that would get him to shut up. “Hey, Morgan, it’s me. Remember? I was there when you cried about having to leave Nico behind. I was there when you finally got her out. I’d sooner slash the tires off my bike than hurt her.”

  Morgan winced at my words, but his shoulders relaxed. “Yeah, okay. Sorry, I just…”

  “No, I get it. Kid gloves. Besides, I could probably get Paris to do it. She loves to be engaged. But clearly, this could be of benefit to Nico as well, so if I can help her out, why not? This grant is real important to her right?”

  “Yeah.” Morgan grinned. “She’s always muttering under her breath about it when I see her. Talking to herself about the project she has to submit. That’s when she’s not complaining about this Danna girl and her privilege.”

  “Hey, you know if there’s someone I can talk to…”

  “Nah. Nico’d kill us if she thought we tried that shit. Hey, if your name is enough to get her foot in the door, I guess that’s what we’re doing. But you’re good with this?”

  “Hey, I am great. I have a wife who is a scientist, out here saving the world? I’d like to see Roman compete with that.”

  “And it doesn’t look so fake because you’ve known her forever. Hell, we could even say you’ve been seen out and about with all those ladies because you were keeping her on the down-low.”

  I thought about that for a minute and then frowned. “Nah…let’s not do that unless someone asks. Those ladies might feel some type of way if they thought they were just being used like that.”

  Morgan smirked, dapping my shoulder with his closed fist. “Look at you. Considering everyone’s feelings.”

  “I am a regular down-home golden-hearted bad boy,” I declaimed dramatically.

  Morgan snorted with derision, getting to his feet. “Come on, let’s get going. I need you to drop me off at Nico’s just so I can make sure she’s really good with all of this.”

  I stood up as well. “Yeah, okay.”

  We walked to the car, not saying much to each other. I guess we both had a lot to think about. However much we couched it in pros and cons, the truth was we were playing fast and loose with people’s lives. Mine, Nico’s, even Morgan’s. Marriage was a big deal whichever way we chose to slice that cake. Things could get really messy.

  I got in the driver’s seat, holding my hand out for the keys. We took off, Louis Armstrong filling the silence with his crooning voice until we arrived at Nico’s block of apartments. I dropped Morgan at the door and drove off, my mind still churning with scenarios.

  What does a marriage of convenience even entail? Do we have sex? What about kids?

  I decided that I definitely needed to talk about all this with Leyland. He looked like exactly the kind of lawyer that had a template ‘Arranged Marriage Contract’ for all his blue blood clients who married for strategic reasons rather than love or lust or stupidity or whatever.

  Married.

  The word alone had me shivering with revulsion. My own parents’ marriage was nothing to write home about. The screaming and fighting weren’t so bad. But when my dad brought two-bit hookers home with him, drunk off his ass, and threw my mother out of the bedroom so he could screw them both; or when my mother disappeared for days in a haze of meth and anger…well. Let’s just say that when the elephants fight, it’s the grass that takes most of the damage.

  It’s no wonder I thought joining a motorbike gang at sixteen was a great idea.

  My phone rang just as I was parking the car in the underground garage and I pulled it out to see that my mother was calling.

  Speak of the devil.

  I sighed, picking up the call. “Yeah?”

  “Domenic, darling, how are you doing?”

  Great, she was high. My mother only said my full name when she was tripping balls.

  “Hey, ma. What’s up?”

  “Well, I ran into that friend of yours, whatsisname? Buzz? Hawk? Something…”

  My heart sank. “You mean Tank?”

  “Yeah! That’s his name. Anyways, he was asking about you.”

  Of course, he was.

  “Oh yeah? And what’d you tell him?”

  “Nothing. I said I hadn’t heard from you for a while.”

  I unclenched my fist. “Thanks.”

  “If you really want to show gratitude, you could send me some
money.”

  My chest tightened even as I gritted my teeth. “Sure, ma.”

  I hung up without saying goodbye, leaning my head against the seat rest with a sigh. My mother is why I have trust issues.

  4

  Nicolette

  I wasn’t surprised when my doorbell rang. I knew that the discussion wasn’t over when I left. Morgan wasn’t happy with me and I couldn’t blame him. It was a crazy thing I was suggesting, especially with a man I clearly didn’t like.

  I had barely gotten the door open when he was in my face. “Why are you really doing this? You carryin’ a torch for Dom I don’t know about?”

  I had to laugh out loud at that one. “Yeah, because that’s the only reason I could possibly suggest this, right? Honestly, Morgan, sometimes you’re such a Neanderthal.”

  Morgan honest-to-God pouted. “Forgive me for being worried about my sis. What an asshole I am.”

  “I survived fifteen years of Eugene. Dom can’t even compare.”

  Morgan frowned. “Dom is nothing like Eugene.”

  I shrugged because well, agree to disagree. One abusive asshole is as good as another. “So why are you so worried about us getting married?”

  Morgan crossed to my minibar and poured himself a brandy before flopping down in my red bean bag chair. I settled myself on the recliner and waited for the inevitable lecture. “It’s not about Dom. Well, it is, but it’s also about you.”

  I made an expansive gesture with my hand. “Do explain.”

  “We’re not the only ones who come from abusive backgrounds. And he might not say it or even realize it, but it would hurt if he thought a friend was using him the way that his family has, his club did… the way everyone in his life always and forever wants something from him.”

  My eyebrows quirked in surprise. “So you’re worried about him?”

  Morgan twisted his lips wryly. “Believe it or not, he’s as human as you are. He has feelings too.”

  I shrugged. “Fine then. You don’t want me to marry him, I won’t. I just thought he was looking for a bride and…”

  “No, your idea is great, but I gotta know you’re doing it for the right reasons. Because if things go sideways, it’ll make the difference between us all coming out of this intact or destroying our relationships.”

  I wanted to point out that Dom and I had no relationship, but that wasn’t really true. Because Morgan was my brother and apparently, he was also Dom’s only friend, we were inextricably linked. So I nodded seriously instead. “Okay, I get it. I do.”

  Morgan nodded. “Good. Now, how about you break out your gnarly PS2 and let me kick your ass?”

  I smiled, going to the box beneath the television where I kept all that crap. My brother and I have that awkward relationship where if we bear our souls too openly, we have to retreat a little; hide behind everyday things for a while – like playing video games. We loved the hell out of each other, but sincerity was difficult for us.

  So we played PS2 for the rest of the night before Morgan called an Uber and returned to his first love.

  I arrived at work the next day feeling kind of hungover. A long night, intense conversation, and not enough sleep had me feeling like I’d downed a bottle of whiskey by myself. I found Jacinda already at her station, eyes hovering over the microscope.

  “Morning,” I mumbled, digging up my research. I had seven days to finish it, so ironically, Dom and I were on the same deadline. Danna Powell had money and power. All I had was a great idea. I was a nobody; she was someone.

  I tweaked a few concepts and checked over the biochemistry once again, quickly getting absorbed. The aromatic scent of coffee wafted towards me and broke my concentration. I lifted my head, turning towards the coffee maker.

  “Mmm, that smells delicious.”

  Jacinda turned to me and smiled. “Yeah, I thought that would get your head out of your work for a bit. Come sit. Tell me about your weekend. Quit fiddling with your project. It’s done, it’s perfect.”

  “I bet you say that to all the scientists,” I said as I got to my feet and went to join her in our tiny kitchenette. Not only had Jacinda made the coffee, but she also had pastries to go with it. That girl was a saint.

  Jacinda took a bite of a breakfast bagel. “So, still angsting about your project?”

  “Mm, not really. I think I have a plan to even the playing field.”

  “You do?”

  “Yeah…” That was when I remembered Dom’s words about discussing this with a lawyer.

  Right, I’ll get right on that.

  The door to the lab opened and Danna Powell breezed in like she owned the place. “Good morning, losers.” She tossed her blonde hair back, blue eyes glinting like she was Kathryn Merteuil in Cruel Intentions. I ignored her, but Jacinda smiled and nodded because she wasn’t raised by wolves.

  “Just received some news today.” She came to lean by my stool, smiling smugly at me. I seriously considered punching her in the face.

  She continued waiting expectantly for me to ask her about her news and I continued to sip my coffee. Even Jacinda did not oblige but took a large bite of her bagel so she had an excuse not to talk.

  “Well, I’ve just received news from the Grant Committee. They were looking forward to my entry as they’d heard really good things.”

  The coffee went down bitter after those words. I got to my feet and walked back to my workstation without a word. I just didn’t want to hear it. Behind me, Danna laughed. “Oh, don’t worry. I’m sure they’ll give yours a once-over before they make their final decision. Don’t be too disheartened.”

  Honestly, you’d think that she’d be embarrassed about her mean girl dialogue, but Donna wasn’t self-aware enough for that. I continued to sip my coffee as I checked my email and she finally got tired of talking to herself and left. Jacinda and I immediately turned to each other, bitch faces at the ready.

  “Can you believe that witch?”

  Jacinda shrugged. “Personally, I think she’s just really insecure.”

  “Urgh.” I rolled my eyes. “Why do you have to be so empathetic all the time?”

  “I can’t help it!” Jacinda threw her hands up in the air and brought me another bagel. “Here, eat. Forget her. Your project is groundbreaking, and the grant committee would be fools to pass over it.”

  I clenched my jaw, even more determined to skew the odds in my favor.

  I grabbed a dollar as soon as I got home and exited my apartment. Knocking on my neighbor’s door, I held out the dollar and smiled as he opened up to greet me. “Hey, Chaz.” He was clad in the tiniest shorts in existence, his junk lovingly cradled in soft cotton. You’d think he’d shave his legs with militant discipline the way he loves to show them off, but no.

  He looked from me to the money, an eyebrow quirked. “What’s going on?”

  “I need your legal services.”

  Christopher Brady, my neighbor, was always something of an anathema to me. When I met him, he had just finished his law degree from Stanford University. But he was working in a specialty bar because he was totally in love with the oblivious owner. Since he moved in, we’d spent many a wine-soaked evening on his couch, while Chaz counted the ways in which Mason Kirkpatrick was absolutely perfect.

  “But why can’t you just tell him? Aren’t you gays like straightforward about that sort of thing?”

  He would sigh deeply, looking lovesick.

  “If I just wanted to have sex, sure. But I want to run my fingers through his curly brown hair in the shower, and make sure the conditioner has gotten on every strand. I want to fold his boxers next to mine and fantasize about the children we’ll adopt together.”

  I had laughed because all that was so oddly specific. Our relationship was very well established by now; he knocked on my door when he wanted to vent, and I knocked on his door when I needed sugar or salt.

  That’s why I couldn’t really blame him for how wide his eyes got at my new request.

  He s
natched up the dollar anyway and ushered me in.

  “What trouble have you gotten yourself into now, huh? Did you forget to put the plastics in the recycle bin?”

  “Ha-ha. I have an actual huge thing that’s going on in my life right now.”

  He flopped down on the white patent leather sofa and patted the seat beside him. “Come on, tell Uncle Chaz all about it.”

  So I did.

  I explained the whole marriage of convenience thing and asked for his advice. He steepled his hands and grinned at me. “Well, well, I feel as if I just fell in a novel by Sophie Kinsella or something. I’m pretty sure there are easier ways to get laid, Nico.”

  I nodded along. “Sure. If what I wanted was to get laid, you’d totally have a valid poin-”

  “What?” he slapped my thigh lightly, brown eyes wide. “You don’t want to fuck Domenic Cliff? Pull the other one.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Chaz, could you please focus?”

  “I’m focused! So what do you need from me, girl?”

  “Dom and my brother asked me to speak to a lawyer and get some advice.”

  “Honey, I’m a bartender.”

  “With a law degree.”

  “Fine. Okay. So you want to marry this man for his clout, right? And he wants to marry you for respectability-”

  I put a hand on his arm. “I mean this falls under lawyer-client privilege right? You took my dollar.”

  “You watch too much TV, but yeah, I’ll keep your confidences. Can we continue?”

  I took my hand away and wiggled deeper into the couch. “Yes please, continue.”

  “You both have your reasons for the wedding, and so now what you need is to come out with a specific time frame that you will be married, and agree on what’s allowed and what isn’t. In other words, the parameters of your marriage. Are you going to have sex?” He leaned forward confidentially. “I’d tick the yes column on that one.”