Found (Bad Boys with Billions Book 2)

by Laura Marie Altom

  In Liam’s world, I simply flipped a switch. A gas log ignited, and voilà! Fire. Only the flames danced behind glass that diffused the heat and sanitized the whole experience. There was no sweet wood-smoke smell or gentle crackle and pop. Just generic flames that made me wish I could genie-blink Liam and me back to his beach house.

  With him now snoring, I wound my way to the bedroom, bathroom and closet, where I’d played dress-up with Mimi and Rocco.

  A peek in the closet showed that just like Liam had said, all of my beautiful clothes, shoes, purses and jewelry were still there. It made me smile to think that Liam had kept them safe for me. Had he known I’d one day return? Or merely hoped?

  The night of my makeover had marked profound, fundamental changes in who I was as a woman, a lover and a friend. That night, Liam stroked me back to life as surely as if I’d been pronounced dead on an operating table and had CPR administered. His kisses alternated between tender and brazen and after he’d made love to me, carefully letting me at least carry the illusion that I’d been in control, he’d held me, kissed me more.

  Then he’d told me about Willow’s death.

  The sense of betrayal I’d suffered from the knowledge that while I’d been basking in Liam’s adoration, she’d lain dying, was crushing. Imagining her alone and cold in her sterile hospital room made me sick. Sure, Liam had filled her space with flowers, but what good were all of those blooms when they weren’t attached to meaningful faces? I should have been there with her. I still wasn’t sure what to do with that guilt—especially when if given the chance, I probably, selfishly, wouldn’t change a thing about what Liam and I had done.

  “What’s got you so deep in thought?”

  I jumped to hear his voice. Hands to my chest as if it were possible to soothe my pounding heart, I said, “I thought you were sleeping.”

  “I was, but then I rolled over to damn near fall of the couch. Even worse—there was no you.” He cupped my cheek and kissed me.

  I melted against him, beyond grateful for not only his physical warmth, but companionship.

  “So? Did you decide what to wear? I need a fashion show.”

  “Why don’t you pick something?” I turned to him, wrapping my arms around his waist.

  I hated that we’d fought back at his office, and he had to know these clothes meant so much more to me than mere denim and silk, sequins and leather. They represented me emerging from my thrift-store-bought T-shirt cocoon. Liam’s kindness and money had made that possible, but it was his love that made me want to once again feel pretty. Blaine had stripped me of any feelings or desires to the point that I’d wanted my outside appearance to reflect the ugliness I’d felt deep within. With Liam, I no longer wanted to be ugly, but as beautiful as he made me feel. I wanted to transform myself into the physical manifestation of everything that was pure and wonderful about our love.

  He nuzzled my neck, making me squirm in pleasure. “Thanks for the blanket. I can’t believe I crashed on you like that.”

  “You’re welcome, and I was actually flattered that you feel comfortable enough around me to crash.” I stood on my tiptoes to kiss him.

  “I should hope so. You’re going to be my wife.”

  “Yes, I am.” The very idea of marrying again was sobering, but in a good way. Liam wasn’t anything like Blaine, and never would be.

  We ended up making silly, laughing love in my closet, then embarking on a mad dash to prep for our dinner.

  After a quick shower, I dried my hair and brushed it into smooth waves before scrambling into a fresh pair of thigh-hugging jeans and a romantic poet’s blouse. I added a fringed shawl, warm socks and hand-tooled cowboy boots.

  “Christ, you’re hot . . .”

  “So are you.” I looked up from adding dangling earrings to find Liam standing in front of the closet door. Dressed in faded jeans and a moss-green sweater that highlighted the emerald in his eyes, I’d never seen him more handsome. I gravitated to him and couldn’t stop myself from stroking his soft stubble, breathing in his faint citrus-and-leather cologne. “I like you scruffy.”

  “Good to know. I like me scruffy too, so you just gave me an excuse to lose my razor.” Conversation on the ride to Owen and Natalie’s was perfectly pleasant.

  I shouldn’t have had a care in the world.

  So why had a writhing mass of nerves set up camp in my stomach? As Liam chattered about cutting-edge search capabilities, why did my mind drift to Nathan? And worrying about what he was having for dinner? Or had that can of SpaghettiOs been dinner and afterward, he’d just gone to bed? He said he’d made friends since starting his grocery store job, but had he really? Or was he just saying that to make me feel better about ditching him for Liam?

  “ . . . It’s all about the algorithms, you know?”

  “Uh-huh . . .” Why had Nathan kissed me? Had it been his equivalent of a Hail Mary pass? He’d succeeded in making me notice him as a man, but that didn’t change anything. Like in Twilight, Liam would always be my Edward and Nathan was forever my sweet friend, Jacob.

  That’s just how it was.

  “After the meeting, I had Carol make a few drinks and call out for midget strippers.”

  “Wait—what?”

  Stopped for a light, Liam glanced my way. “Glad you find my conversation scintillating.”

  “I do. I just . . .” Be honest. Let him know the whole thing with Nathan annoyed you as much as it did him. Only had it? I wasn’t annoyed so much as sad. I hated feeling that I was letting him down. He was my friend—when I’d first hit Rose Springs, he’d been my only friend. For that alone, I owed him a certain amount of loyalty. But I didn’t think Liam would understand.

  “Antsy about tonight? Or more long-term issues like the divorce?”

  If I nodded, would that technically be lying? Because, of course, that whole upcoming crisis was at a constant boil on my emotional back burner. “I need to keep reminding myself that it’ll be over soon. Yes, Blaine’s a monster. But he’s also fiercely protective of his public image. With luck, I shouldn’t ever even need to see him.”

  “True.” Liam clasped my hand. “Which is why you should stop thinking about him, and focus on my riveting account of algorithms.”

  I winced. “I have a confession.”

  He released me. “Christ . . . What now?”

  Now, I was reaching for him. “Oh, stop. This is hardly headline news. All I was going to say is that, honestly, I don’t have a clue what an algorithm even is.” He burst out laughing.

  “Remind me of everyone’s names and ages,” I asked Liam on our approach to Owen and Natalie’s imposing front door. The rain had stopped, which allowed me to gawk at leisure at the modern-day stone castle that looked plucked from the banks of the Rhine. Discreet exterior lighting tucked high in the trees and low in shrubbery lent the place a fairy-tale twinkle. Overturned Fisher-Price riding toys, ratty-haired dolls and an assortment of bikes softened what would otherwise make for a daunting approach.

  Before Liam could answer my question, the door burst open and four little girls and a barking sheepdog spilled out onto the stone walkway.

  “Uncle Liam!” two first- or second-grade girls cried in unison while grabbing Liam’s hands and jumping. Twins?

  “Hi, I’m Darcy,” a cherub-cheeked cutie said to me while petting my sweater. “Are you the lady my uncle’s gonna marry?”

  “I sure hope so.” My heart melted. I hadn’t been around kids in ages, and this one was beyond adorable with her oversized pink ball gown, long topsy-turvy curls, strands of beaded crystal necklaces and crooked lipstick smile. Her big, blue eyes made me think of a sunny sky.

  “Hi.” An older, quiet girl I guessed to be around eight grinned and formally held out her hand for me to shake. “I’m Jane.”

  “Hello, Jane. Nice meeting you.”

  Darcy held up a naked Barbie. “This is Anastasia. She likes to skinny-dip like Mommy and Daddy!”

  “Darcy!” Natalie was next t
o emerge from the house. “Remember how we weren’t going to talk about that?” She gave me a smile before crushing me in a hug. “Hello again. Sorry about all of this. Owen and I had hoped to have the toys picked up and everyone in bed by the time you got here, but kids and schedules aren’t really our thing.” Owen trailed behind her. He carried a baby boy.

  “Don’t let her fool you,” Liam said after kissing Natalie’s cheek. “She thrives in chaos.”

  Natalie landed a playful swat on Liam’s chest. “True, but at the moment, we wouldn’t have chaos if it weren’t for you. The girls think you’re a human Disneyland!”

  “That’s the nicest thing I’ve heard all day.” While each twin hung from one of Liam’s legs, he clutched his chest and grinned. “Truly, I’m flattered.” Everyone save for the dog proceeded inside.

  “Hold him,” Owen said, thrusting the baby into my arms. “I’ve got to grab the damned dog before he pees on Mrs. Carmichael’s peonies.” Owen bolted across the expansive yard.

  “Henry! Get back here, bad dog!”

  While Natalie, Liam and the girls paraded into the house, I stole a few seconds to freezeframe the precious moment. This was how life should be. Bursting with laughter and fun.

  I kissed the crown of the baby’s head, breathing in his intoxicating fresh-washed scents of no-tear shampoo and lotion. My throat knotted and my eyes stung, but I refused to cry on such a happy occasion. When the divorce was finalized, this was my future.

  “Get in the house!” I couldn’t help but smile when Owen tried corralling the massive dog toward the door, but the dog had a mind of his own and ran around back. Winded, hands on his hips, Owen grinned in my direction. “Don’t ever get a dog. They’re a serious pain in the youknow-what.”

  Just then, as if he knew he was being trash-talked, Henry the sheepdog slinked out from behind a bush, then sat at Owen’s feet, cocking his head for an apology.

  “You make me crazy.” Owen patted the dog’s shaggy head. “But I love you. Get in the house.” For the first time, I witnessed Henry actually obeying. Owen held out his arms for the baby. “Sorry about that. Want me to take him?”

  “Not just yet. He’s amazing. What’s his name?”

  “Charlie. Don’t let those pink cheeks fool you—he can be just as awful as the dog.”

  While peering into this tiny, old soul’s gaze, I feigned a gasp. “I don’t believe that for a second. Your daddy’s making that up.”

  “I wish,” Owen said with a good-natured grin. “We have a nanny around here somewhere, but Natalie treats her like one of the kids. I swear she gets more time off than on.”

  I laughed. “Sounds like a great gig. Let me know next time you hire someone new. I might need to apply.”

  “Will do.” He closed the door behind us but didn’t bother locking it. I fell in love with everything about this enchanted place, from the home’s cluttered opulence to the warm and welcoming occupants.

  “Wanna see my bedroom?” Darcy took my hand. “Me and my dolls live there.”

  “I’d love to see your room. Thank you.” Cradling Charlie against my hip, I followed the little girl up a wide, winding toy-littered staircase.

  “Want me to take the baby?” Natalie called from the dining room.

  “Thanks, but we’re good.” I smiled in her direction, then continued on our journey.

  Liam chased up the stairs after us. “This is some place, huh? I’m over so much, guess I take it for granted.”

  “It’s wonderful.” At the top, I leaned my head back to take in the third-story stained-glass dome. “I’d love to see this with the sun shining in.”

  “It’s even better. Natalie hosts a kid party most weekends. I’m sure you’ll eventually get a daytime view.”

  “Good.”

  Darcy tugged on my hand. “Quit looking at Uncle Liam, and look at my room!”

  I laughed. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Love you,” Liam whispered in my ear. His breath’s heat gave me chills.

  “I love you, too.” So very much. This night was exactly what I’d needed to remind me what true happiness was all about. It wasn’t just the love Liam and I shared, but so much more. Family, and friendships so solid they grew to feel like family. I might have lost my parents, but how incredible was it to imagine myself as a mom? And Liam as a dad.

  I held Charlie tighter, embracing not only the present, but our fantastical future.

  Blaine had to let me go. He had to. I refused to see my new life without Liam.

  Liam

  When Friday morning rolled around, I didn’t want to leave my bed.

  Outside, wind from an early morning storm had ended, and though rain fell against the skylights, it had transitioned from a roar to a soft patter that I didn’t think would delay our departure for Willow’s funeral.

  I served as Ella’s big spoon. She wore my favorite 49ers T-shirt and it had ridden up around her waist, leaving her thong-covered sweet behind pressed against my groin. My cock swelled accordingly.

  Did it make me a horrible person that I craved sex before embarking on the journey to such a solemn occasion?

  Ella stirred against me, which only worsened my condition.

  I turned my thoughts to the more depressing portions of the day. With Carol’s and

  Willow’s parents’ help, we’d worked with one of Rose Springs’ three funeral homes—Bates Chapel. Everything had been planned, from the custom Harley-Davidson coffin Willow’s dad selected to twenty grand worth of red roses. Covering the hefty tab for the elaborate affair would be far easier than meeting the girl’s parents. I dreaded looking them in their eyes. If they asked questions about their daughter’s death, I had no good answers. An overdose had caused her to slip into a coma and then suffer a silent aneurysm. I had no more been the direct cause of her bad decisions than Ella, but a nagging voice inside begged to differ.

  Bottom line—if I had never allowed her on board my jet the day I’d taken Ella, Willow would still be alive. No matter how my conscience tried to spin it, that fact stayed the same.

  My cell alarm went off. We were scheduled for wheels-up at six, so I’d set it for four thirty.

  “Already?” Ella asked. She used my right arm for a pillow.

  “’Fraid so.”

  “Coming off of such an amazing night, are you dreading this day as much as I am?”

  “Yeah.” Maybe more. If Nathan showed, I’d have the added misfortune of being stuck with him. If he so much as looked at Ella the wrong way, I was afraid I’d deck him. I wanted to confront him about the kiss, but I knew Ella would be pissed. If he behaved, I’d keep my mouth shut—but that was a very big if. “Taking a shower?” I selfishly asked, praying she would so I’d have an excuse to take her standing beneath the spray.

  “No. I washed my hair last night, and since it’s going to be a long day, I want to wear it up.”

  Damn. “Sounds good. Guess we’ll meet up after we’re both ready.”

  “Are you pouting?”

  “About what?” Having to rub one out in the shower when I had a perfectly fine fiancée alongside me? Yeah, maybe I was pouting a little, but could anyone blame me?

  “This?” She rolled over, slipping her hand in my boxers.

  I sucked in a swift breath when she grabbed my hard cock. Christ . . .

  “What should we do about your issue?”

  I groaned when she released me, only to slide like the nimble kitten she was until her mouth was level with the epicenter of my dilemma. She popped me free of my boxers, then proceeded to suck me so hard my fucking toes curled. I slid my fingers into her riotous long hair, wishing the room weren’t dark so I could watch in addition to feel. Swirling pressure rose higher and higher until, just before I was about to blow, she changed course yet again, yanking off her thong, then fitting me neatly inside her, riding me for only the short while it took for me to shoot my wad. I bucked up into her and she bore down, sending me even deeper.

  Holy shit, that
had felt good. But what about her? “Did you come?”

  By the faint glow streaming through the skylight, I saw her shake her head. “But it’s okay. We don’t have time.”

  “The hell we don’t.” With one hand splayed against her belly, with my other, I found her swollen cleft. I rubbed until she arched her head back and moaned, exposing her gorgeous throat.

  “Ohmygod . . . Yes . . .” She bucked against me, and damn if my cock wasn’t ready to saddle up for another ride. The quiver of her O only made me that much more aroused, so we went at it a second time with my hands framing her slim hips, urging her up and down.

  She came, and then it was my turn. Considering we were headed to a funeral, I was pretty sure that if we’d died in the next ten minutes we’d go straight to hell. Pre-funeral fucking was in very poor taste.

  “Better?” she asked, her toothy grin lighting the dark.

  “A little. But hell, your pocket’s so juicy I could hang out in there all day.”

  I think I made out her grumpy face. “Do you have to be so crude?”

  “Yes.” I raised up to kiss the tip of her nose, then her lips. “But for you, I’ll try doing better, okay?”

  She laughed. “Why do I not believe you?”

  “Beats me. I was fine with helping myself in the shower.”

  “Uh-huh . . .” She scrambled off of me, only to take my hand. “Come on, and we’ll share a quick shower. But if we’re going to have a prayer of getting out of here on time, please don’t wet my hair.”

  Since she’d gifted me with a double-header, I behaved in the shower—sort of. If she didn’t count a few nips to naughty places.

  Together, after last night’s dinner, we’d moved her belongings from the guest room closet and bathroom to the master. It didn’t take me long to towel-dry my hair, finger it into some semblance of order, then put on a suit and the trimmings.