The Ending I Want

by Samantha Towle

  “Um…your grandpa is your blood relative, and he’s related to the Queen—I don’t care how many times removed.” I stop him when his mouth opens to speak. “So, that means you’re related to the Queen.”

  “I guess, if you look at it that way, then, yeah, technically…but not really.”

  “Oh my God!” I cover my face with my hands. “I’ve been having sex with royalty!”

  “Boston, I’m not royalty.”

  I wave him off with my hand. “Oh, you are so royalty! I can’t believe you didn’t tell me this before! I’m so adding that to my list. This…you being royalty…and you and me doing the dirty—like, numerous times—I think this might actually top meeting Jake Wethers.”

  His brow creases. “So, you have to discover there’s a drop of seriously diluted royal blood in me in order for me to top Jake Wethers? God, I feel so fucking special.”

  I can tell from his tone that he’s playing with me.

  “What can I say? Monarchy just marginally tops rock royalty.”

  He laughs again. The sound is so rich and pure that it reaches a hand inside my body and wraps around my heart.

  “Anyway, don’t worry, Hunter. You already made my list way before Jake Wethers did.”

  “I did?” He glances at me, the look in his eyes suddenly tender.

  “The first thing I checked off my list—kiss a stranger. You were my stranger.”

  He reaches his hand over and takes mine. He lifts my hand to his mouth and kisses it.

  That theoretical hand he has around my heart squeezes.

  We’re coming up close to the castle, and he still hasn’t answered my question.

  “So, what do I call your grandpa then?” I ask again.

  “Most people just call him Bernie.”

  “Bernie?” I frown. Doesn’t sound very lordlike.

  “It’s his name—well, Bernard is, but I haven’t heard anyone ever call him by his given name.”

  “You’re sure I should just call him Bernie?” Feels weird to address someone of nobility by their first name like that.

  “Well, you can call him Lord if you want, but I don’t think it’ll stick. It’s just not him. You’ll know what I mean when you meet him. Now, me, on the other hand? If you at any point want to call me Lord or Sir or…God, then feel free, babe.”

  That earns him a jab in the arm.

  “Hey!” He rubs the spot I just hit. “Easy there, Boston. I bruise like a fucking peach.”

  “Sure you do.” Fighting a smile, I shake my head at his smirking face.

  “Still, you pack a hell of a punch there for such a tiny person.”

  “Yeah, well, make sure to remember that the next time you have a smart comment ready to roll off your tongue.”

  “I’d much rather roll you off my tongue.”

  Oh my God.

  A shudder runs up my spine, desire suddenly coiling in my stomach.

  I love it when he says things like that to me.

  Liam brings the car to a stop outside the castle just as a man comes out the front door and heads straight for the car.

  Liam’s grandpa.

  Lord Hunter.

  Or Bernie.

  I can’t call him Bernie. It doesn’t seem respectful enough.

  I don’t know what I was expecting…but the guy walking over to the car isn’t it.

  He’s an older version of Liam. Tall and distinguished, his short hair silver, face clean-shaven—he’s handsome for an old guy. I bet he was seriously good-looking when he was younger. I can see where Liam gets his awesome looks.

  Looking at Lord Hunter, it’s hard to pin an age on him.

  Liam gives me a smile and then gets out of the car. I climb out my side and shut the door.

  “Been way too long since I last saw you, boy.” He hugs Liam.

  Out of nowhere, a lump appears in my throat, and tears prick my eyes. Apparently, I’m an emotional wreck today. I blink furiously to rid myself of the tears.

  “I was here only a few weeks ago,” Liam says as his grandpa releases him.

  “Like I said, too long.” He claps his hands on Liam’s shoulders. “Have you grown since I last saw you?” His head tilts to the side, his eyes squinting at Liam.

  Liam laughs. “I stopped growing a long time ago, Grandpa.”

  “You look taller. Maybe I’m just shrinking.” He shrugs.

  Then, his grandpa’s eyes come over to me. I’m standing by the hood of Liam’s car.

  “You must be Taylor.” He leaves Liam and walks over to me, stopping just in front of me. “So, you’re the one who finally got my grandson to take some time off from that business of his.”

  “That would be me.” I smile. “It’s really nice to meet you, Lord Hunter.”

  He laughs a rich and deep sound. “We don’t stand on formalities here, Taylor. Call me Bernie.”

  “Okay”—I smile—“Bernie.”

  “You have the most interesting hair color.”

  “Oh, thank you.” I touch a hand to my hair. “I just recently had it done.”

  “It really suits you.” He smiles. Then, he hugs me.

  He actually hugs me.

  He wraps his arms around me and squeezes.

  I freeze.

  I’m not sure what to do. In this moment, I realize that, aside from Liam—who mostly hugs me after he’s screwed my brains out—Bernie is the only other person I’ve hugged since my family died.

  I shake off the shock and hug him back so as not to be rude.

  Bernie releases me and stares down at me. “Thank you,” he says softly.

  I’m not sure if he’s thanking me for the hug or for Liam taking time off work. So, I just shrug and say, “No probs.”

  He smiles wide. “I just adore the American accent. My wife was from America—New York. Amazing woman. Far too good for me. So, Liam tells me that you’re from Boston.” Bernie has his arm around me and is now steering me toward the house.

  “Um, yes, I’m from Boston,” I answer.

  “Leave the bags, Liam,” Bernie says over his shoulder.

  I glance back to see Liam opening up the trunk of his car.

  “Archie will take them up to your room.” Bernie tells me, “Archie is my butler. More of a friend than an employee though. Been with me for years. Since Liam was a boy.”

  “It’ll take me a minute to bring them in,” Liam tells his grandpa.

  We’re already through the double front doors and moving through the biggest entrance hall I’ve ever seen in my life. I bet, if I spoke, my voice would echo.

  “Well, do as you must,” he calls to Liam.

  I was right. Bernie’s voice echoes around the hall.

  “Taylor and I will be in the orangery, getting to know one another. Come to us when you’re done.”

  Orangery? What the hell is that?

  Turns out that an orangery is basically a huge conservatory.

  The glass doors leading to the garden are wide open, letting in the warm breeze. It’s a beautiful view. The lake at the far back—further back than I expected—is surrounded by trees. The stone patio has a fire pit and garden furniture and a lot of grass around it. There’s an area filled with beautiful flowers and bushes. I remember Liam saying his grandpa liked to garden. I think of the flower Liam gave me, which is now safe in my bag.

  “You have a beautiful home,” I say to Bernie from my seat opposite him.

  “Thank you.” He smiles. “So, Liam says you’re here on holiday.”

  “I am.” I don’t know what Liam’s told him and whether he knows about my list, so I don’t mention it.

  “And he says you met on the flight over.”

  I smile at the memory. “We did. Liam sat next to me on the plane. We got to talking.” Well, kissing and then talking, and afterward, going back to his place for wild monkey sex.

  I can’t believe I just thought about wild monkey sex while sitting here with his grandpa.

  “He hasn’t been able to get rid
of me since,” I joke.

  Bernie laughs. His laugh is very similar to Liam’s. The kind of laugh that, even if you’re feeling at your lowest, it would make you smile.

  “Well, I’m just glad he met you and is taking some time off work. That boy works too hard. This is the first time since he set up that company that he’s taken a holiday.”

  Really? I know he said he didn’t vacation much, but I didn’t realize it was never at all. But then again, is it a vacation if you’re not away from home?

  “Is it classed as a vacation if you’re still at home?” I ask Bernie the question in my head.

  “I have no clue.” He shrugs. “But he’s not working. He looks more relaxed than I’ve seen him in years, so I’m happy.”

  “He looks more relaxed than I’ve seen him in years.”

  That sets me aglow.

  Still, I won’t burst Bernie’s bubble and tell him that Liam has worked a few days in our time together.

  An older gentleman in a white suit jacket and black pants comes into the room, carrying a tray.

  “Ah, Archie, meet Taylor. Taylor is a friend of Liam’s. She’s staying with us for a few days.”

  Archie puts the tray down on the table. It’s filled with cups, a small jug of milk, a sugar bowl, a plate of cookies, a coffee decanter, and a tea pot.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Taylor.” He smiles at me. “Where’s Liam?” he asks Bernie.

  “Putting their bags away.”

  Archie shakes his head and laughs.

  “You staying for tea with us?” Bernie asks Archie.

  He shakes his head again. “I need to get the computer in the office working. It’s driving me crazy. But enjoy your drinks.” Archie leaves the room.

  Bernie chuckles. “I’ve told him to call someone out to fix it, but the man won’t have it. Thinks he can fix it himself.” He reaches over and gets the three cups from the tray, setting them on the table. “I wasn’t sure what you would like to drink, Taylor, so I had Archie make both tea and coffee. Or would you like a cold drink? I can go get you one.”

  “Coffee is great.” I smile.

  Bernie pours out three coffees. I’m guessing one is for Liam, who appears the moment I think his name.

  “All sorted?” Bernie asks him as he passes me my black coffee.

  “Yeah, I just ran our bags up to my room,” Liam says, taking the seat next to me.

  He reaches over and squeezes my hand. I smile at him.

  Bernie hands Liam his coffee.

  I pour milk in mine and then pass it to Liam. I drop a sugar cube in mine. Knowing Liam takes his coffee the same, I drop one in for him.

  “Thanks.” He smiles at me.

  I move my eyes from Liam and see Bernie watching us with a smile on his face. I don’t know why, but it makes my face heat.

  Ducking my face, I pick up a spoon and stir my coffee.

  “Biscuit?” Bernie offers me the plate.

  I guess cookies are called biscuits here.

  Thanking him, I take the plainest-looking cookie, which is apparently called a digestive, according to the word etched into it.

  I take a bite. It’s actually quite good.

  “So, Taylor, is this your first visit to England?” Bernie asks.

  “Yes.” And my last.

  “What do you think so far?”

  “London is amazing. And from what I’ve seen of Oxford, it’s equally as wonderful.”

  “I do love London,” Bernie says. “But I could never live there. Too busy for my liking. I like to be able to visit and then leave when I’ve had enough. I don’t know how Liam lives there.”

  “Twenty-four-hour supermarkets and endless amounts of takeaways, for starters,” Liam says to him.

  Bernie shakes his head. “And that’s why I could never live there.”

  Archie appears in the doorway. He smiles when he sees Liam. “Liam, you good, my boy?”

  “Yeah, I’m good. You?”

  “Keeping well as always.” His eyes move to Bernie. “Sorry to interrupt, but Tate is on the phone, insisting he needs to speak to you.”

  Bernie sighs.

  “Everything okay?” Liam asks. He sounds concerned.

  “Yeah, everything’s fine. It’s just a few hiccups with the Watertown project. Nothing major, but you know how Tate gets.”

  Liam nods in agreement.

  “Why don’t you take Taylor on a tour of the house while I take this call? You know what Tate’s like once he gets talking.”

  Liam looks at me. “Do you want a tour?”

  “A tour would be great.” I smile.

  Bernie gets to his feet and comes over to me. “Sorry to run out on you before we barely got to talking. But we’ll all have dinner together later and get to know each other better.”

  “Sounds great to me.”

  Bernie leaves the room with Archie.

  “You want to finish your coffee first or go on the tour now?” Liam asks me.

  I take a quick sip of my coffee and then get to my feet, hanging my handbag on my shoulder. “Go now.”

  Liam pushes his chair out and stands. He holds a hand out to me. I take it, and he leads me out of the orangery.

  This place is frigging ginormous.

  I’ve lost count of how many rooms and bedrooms and bathrooms there are. I’ve seen the library and the kitchen that looks like it belongs in a restaurant.

  Now, we’re heading for Liam’s bedroom. His room is at the other side of the castle from his grandpa’s, as he told me, so we can have noisy sex, no problem.

  But I don’t think so. These hallways echo. Echoes carry sound.

  Liam pushes open the door to his bedroom and walks inside.

  It’s huge.

  Large windows overlook the garden and lake. The bed is one of those huge wooden sleigh beds. The mattress looks like I could sink into it and never get back up.

  Trophies fill the shelves lining the walls. Framed certificates and photos hang on the walls and sit on the chest of drawers.

  “Bathroom is there.” Liam points to a closed door at the far side of the room. “And your bag is over there with mine.”

  I see our bags sitting side by side near a huge oak closet. I go over and put my handbag with our bags.

  Then, I walk over to the window, staring out at the view. “It’s beautiful here. Thank you for bringing me.”

  I turn from the view to face Liam, leaning my ass against the windowsill. He’s standing in the middle of the room, watching me, his hands in his pockets. The view before me now is so much more appealing than anything the outside has to offer.

  Liam is beautiful. I’ve never seen anything like him in my life.

  I meet his stare. The look in his eyes makes my body heat and my spine shiver.

  I curl my fingers around the edge of the windowsill. “Your grandpa is really awesome.”

  “He is. And he likes you a lot.”

  “You think?”

  “I know.”

  “How old is your grandpa?” I push off the windowsill and take a step toward him.

  His eyes darken with interest, sweeping down my body and back up to my face. “Seventy-seven,” he answers with a distinct rasp in his voice that I’m getting used to hearing. It’s the rasp he gets when his cock is getting hard for me.

  I’m tempted to look down, but I force my eyes to stay on his.

  “Wow,” I say. “He looks good for seventy-seven.”

  Liam pulls his hands from his pockets and takes a large step toward me, making the gap between us significantly smaller.

  “I know you like older men, Boston, but a fifty-five-year age gap is pushing it a bit.”

  The smile teasing the corners of his lips affects me in all the right ways and all the right places.

  So, I decide to tease back, knowing I’ll get the result I want, which is me beneath him. Or me on top of him. Either way, I don’t mind.

  I just want him.

  Screw the echoey hallw
ays. I’ll just have to bite my lip to keep quiet.

  I scrape my teeth over my lower lip, loving the way his eyes follow the movement, getting that lusty, drugged look he gets when he’s turned on.

  “I don’t know, Hunter. Fifty-five years screams experience to me.”

  His brow lifts. The look in his eyes turns predatory. “I’ll fucking show you experience,” he growls.

  Then, he lunges for me, making me squeal. He picks me up and throws me down on his bed, climbing on top of me.

  And Liam spends the next few hours showing me just how awesome that experience of his truly is.

  Bernie has taken us out for dinner to this really fancy restaurant called Belmond Le Manoir aux Quat’saisons. See? Even the name is fancy.

  Thank God I had the foresight to bring a dress with me just in case we went out. It’s a fitted black dress, which flares out at the knee. The capped sleeves and back are lace. It’s pretty but sexy.

  I’m wearing my silver ballet flats with it. Heels would have been preferable, but I forgot to pack the one pair I had brought to England with me. But the flats look just as nice.

  Bernie drove us here in his Range Rover, as Liam’s car only has two seats.

  We’re seated in private dining, which is a whole new thing to me.

  The service is absolutely amazing. The food is French. Thankfully, I know a little of what to expect because of the French restaurant that Liam took me to the other day.

  Bernie insisted that we all have the seven-course meal.

  I know, right? Seven courses? They might have to roll me out of here.

  But Bernie assures me that each course is small, so I’ll be fine.

  We’re waiting for the first course to come out, which is wild garlic soup. Thank God Liam is eating the same thing, or I wouldn’t be kissing him later.

  “So, what do you do back home in Boston?” Bernie asks me.

  “I recently graduated.” Six months ago, and then I was coasting, unsure of what to do—until I got sick, and then I knew what to do.

  “What did you graduate in?”

  “English literature.” I pick my wine glass up and take a sip.

  “Book lover?” he asks.

  “Yeah.”

  “Liam, did you show Taylor the library?”

  “I did.”

  “And I’ve got my eye on moving in there,” I joke.

  “Well, you’d be more than welcome. You’re a much prettier sight than Archie,” Bernie says, making us all laugh. He takes a drink of his wine and puts his glass down. “What about your parents, Taylor? What do your parents do?”