But I do need him to understand that he can't just go, throwing his weight—and his wallet—around to get the things he wants. I need him to actually start taking other people's feelings into account and recognizing that his brazen actions can be hurtful in a way that money can't fix.
Okay, the eviction debacle may have been a mistake. But it could have all been avoided if he hadn't been so damn invested in his power games, using legal threats and writing fat checks to manipulate me into marrying him.
I need him to take his assholery down a notch.
No matter how tempting and handsome he is, I can't let myself give in to a bully.
That's why I've been staying at my own house ever since the whole eviction mess. Yes, I realize that moving out of his mansion is a violation of our prenup but he broke our deal first when those movers showed up at my boutique. As much as I miss the charming asshole, I can't just go back to him and act like what he did is okay.
The construction worker stands there looking at me. “Mr. Kingston is very sorry, y’know?” He wears a half-grin. “Very sorry.”
“Did he tell you to say that, too?” I question, fanning out my wallpaper samples on the counter.
Leo’s boss, Charlie, marches around the corner with a box of tiles in his arms and gives me a big nod. “Yup. We have no idea what the poor guy did but he told us to apologize profusely on his behalf.”
I tilt my head at them, feigning annoyance.
Charlie shrugs a shoulder. “Hey...men mess up sometimes.”
“A lot,” Dahlia interjects.
“Even men with a lot of money,” Leo says.
“Especially men with a lot of money.” Dahlia sagely lifts a manicured brow.
“And he’s trying to make it up to you,” the boss continues.
“Us guys, we don’t go throwing out apologies all willy nilly. So if he's going to these lengths—" Leo points his chin around the room. "—he must mean it.”
Sometimes apologies aren't enough. Sometimes it's best to protect your heart and stand your ground. I don't say that to the workers. No need to drag them into my marital beef. Instead, I give them a little smile. "I'll keep all that in mind."
My defences are weakening but I can't lose my head over this.
I grab my purse from under the cash register and sling the strap across my chest. "I'm gonna get going for the night," I tell the workers. I need to get some rest because tomorrow's going to be another long day. "You have the keys. Call me on my cell if anything comes up."
Dahlia smiles and wiggles her elegant fingers at me as she answers another phone call.
"Will do, boss. Good night." Charlie salutes me.
Leo calls after me with another smirk. “Think about the apology.”
I roll my eyes again and it’s no use fighting against the smile trying to break free across my face.
Cannon Kingston is such an asshole. A fucking anti-hero. A shameless bastard. He has his construction workers doing his bidding for him. Talk about using your powers for evil.
As I push the newspaper-covered glass open with my butt and step outside into the crisp, dark night, I renew my determination to resist him. I won't let him buy his way back into my good graces.
32
Cannon
She hasn't come home in days and it's driving me crazy.
I park across the street from Alexia’s shop. I arrive just in time to see her step out the front door and take off down the sidewalk on foot.
At that, I hop out of my car and take off in her direction without giving it much thought. She startles when she hears my footsteps pounding toward her.
“Just me,” I call out with my hands wide.
I know better than to sneak up on an unsuspecting woman after dark. And a woman like Lexi? Yeah, she’s bound to have pepper spray in her bag.
She shoots me a dirty look but doesn’t stop walking. Okay. I may deserve that, but I don’t have the patience for this sassy shit today. My whole world is off-balance without her in it and I can't even hold up my tough facade right now.
Suddenly, I’m mad at myself. I have three luxury cars sitting idle in my garage. Yet, my wife is roaming around on foot in the middle of the night. I need to fix that.
I grab Lexi’s hand, tugging her back in the direction of my car. “Come on. I’ll give you a lift home.”
She rips her hand back and I'm not surprised. But at least, she finally stops walking, pausing with her fist on her hip to scowl at me. “I’m not going anywhere with you. Take your fancy car and go back to your fancy house and leave me alone.”
“Not happening, Stormy. You're my wife. It's bad enough that I've had to sleep without you in my bed these last few nights. There's no way I'm letting you walk the streets alone at this hour. Let me give you a ride.”
“I’ll have to give you a 'hell no' on that one.” Then she pivots and continues to speed walk into the darkness.
I growl audibly and grind my molars for half a second before chasing after her again. She's marching at lightning speed and before I know it, we've walked three blocks. “Now you have me walking you home? Is this some kind of power trip for you?”
She doesn’t bother to answer. Why haven’t I turned around and gone back into my warm ride? I could be at my house and tipping back a scotch in minutes. I don’t want to be out here in the damp cold with an angry woman who's determined to be unreasonable.
Yet… I can’t walk away. When Alexia’s near, I can't ever walk away. Even when she grates on my last damn nerve, I find her magnetically refreshing.
She shivers visibly, and I roll my eyes. The irony is thick, almost as obvious as Lexi’s misery out here in the cold. Her top is thin, and I approve of that, but it’s obvious she didn’t plan for this little stroll home after work today.
I want to let her suffer because—come on—it’s Illinois. If you know anything about the weather here, you prepare for blistering heat, snow, and spring rain to all go down in the same twenty-four hour span. Plus, she's being stubborn just for the fuck of it so I don't know why I feel the need to save her.
But for some unfamiliar reason, it causes me physical pain to see Alexia uncomfortable. I grudgingly peel off my jacket and wrap it around her narrow shoulders as we continue to walk into the dark unknown.
“Thanks,” she mumbles. She’s clearly not thrilled to accept my help, but she must be too cold to fight me. I’ll tuck that into the win column.
“You’re welcome, Stormy.”
She eyes me briefly, likely trying to determine whether I’m being genuine. I am.
“It’s not safe for a woman to walk around alone at night.” I try to speak softly but I can't remove the edge from my voice, even though I’m trying to be a decent human being.
“I'll take my chances on the 'rough streets' of Crescent Harbor,” she says sarcastically. "But it's you I'm not safe alone with."
Ouch! That stings...
She turns up a narrow sidewalk toward her tiny house, and I follow. My eyes enjoy the view. I’m trying to be a gentleman for once but I just can’t fight my lust when it comes to Stormy. I laid in bed last night, struggling not to picture her next to me, on top of me, beneath me, saying my name and writhing with pleasure. I hold onto a shred of hope of somehow making that vision my reality tonight.
I stand behind her as she unlocks her door, ready to follow her inside so we can continue this discussion. Hopefully, it'll lead to something more.
The door pops open and she turns back around, facing me. I wasn’t expecting that move, so now we’re just inches apart. We’re so close, I can smell her grapefruit shampoo. Her scent alone just made my hopeful cock stand at attention. I want this woman so much it's driving me crazy.
"I deserve another chance."
"You don't deserve shit."
She meets my gaze, and then her eyes drop to my lips. Fuck all her stubborn grandstanding. She wants me as much as I want her.
I lean in, ready to take her cherry red mouth. "Come hom
e, Alexia..." I can admit I sound like an entitled prick.
Two tiny hands halt me in my tracks. She tilts her head to gesture toward her house. “I am home."
She backs away, one step at a time.
"Have a lovely fucking night, Mr. Billions. I hope your moneybags like spooning.”
I stand there like a goon, watching her step inside and slam the door in my face.
Stormy has more spunk than ever. I hate to admit to myself how much I admire that.
I might just have to tame the woman after all.
33
Lexi
Faith Monroe-Masters steps out of the changing room in a silky, Greecian-style gown. She angles herself in front of the mirror and squeals. "I think this is the one."
Her sisters sit hip-to-hip on the brand new chaise lounge in the showroom.
"It is gorgeous." Grace puts down her teacup and stands to examine the gown closer.
Faith turns to me and grins. "My husband and I are renewing our vows for the third time."
I circle around her, making adjustments to the fabric. I glance up with bulging eyes. "The third time?"
She giggles. "We didn't quite get it right the first time," she explains. "Let's just say our first wedding was..."
"A drunken Vegas debacle." Lily, the third Monroe sister, mumbles into her teacup. "You're totally overcompensating."
Faith grins with an eyeroll. "You're one to talk, Miss Let's-Rush-Down-To-The-Courthouse-Before-My-Water-Breaks."
When Grace snorts laughter, Lily strolls over and jabs a finger into her shoulder. "Don't even get started or I'm telling Lexi the story about you and your husband and the tantric yoga retreat."
"Ooh! Sounds spicy!" I coo.
Grace turns chili pepper red as she circles around the mini platform where Faith is standing. "Let's just focus on the gown shopping, shall we?"
I laugh.
I love these girls. They're a trio of gorgeous bombshells who share a close bond. They drove up from Reyfield this morning just to check out the shop. For some odd reason, it feels like I know them even though I’m sure I've never met them before.
In any case, I'm happy to announce that Renewed Gowns is officially back in business. The place is dreamy. A modern blend of rustic and regency elements.
Even Iris, who is decidedly not Team Cannon, had to admit that my fake husband went above and beyond.
Cannon waved his credit card like a magic wand and in one week, he turned my shop into everything I've been working toward for the past two years. I'm trying to keep my resolve, y'all, because Cannon doesn't deserve a pat on the back for fixing things when he's the one who tore them down, but I miss him. And each time I step back to look at my renovated boutique, a little more of the ice around my heart dissolves.
I'm the worst at holding a grudge.
And business has been super busy since I re-opened. It's like the brides-to-be of Crescent Harbor and the surrounding areas somehow sniffed me out. I have several appointments booked for this afternoon alone. Good thing Jessa is coming by after lunch to give me a hand.
Across the street, I can see the Hartley Construction guys setting up to commence renovation work on the old craft store. The owner is thrilled to be back in business after the whole eviction scare and she's working harder than ever to increase her sales and catch up on her bills. This morning, I saw her handing out flyers for a knitting workshop she has planned for next week.
The seasonal tourists are starting to trickle into town, frequenting businesses that, just weeks ago, were coming up against the threat of eviction.
There's a note of hope in the air all across Crescent Harbor.
And as much as I despise him, I can't deny the role my bastard husband played in that.
Lily tilts her chin at my wedding ring as I'm bagging up Faith's dress. "What about you, Lexi? What was your wedding like?"
I stop to twirl the glittery diamond around on my finger. My prenup prohibits me from removing it during my marriage. But even in the absence of the clause, I don't think I'd be able to take it off regardless of how 'in limbo' things are with me and Cannon right now.
Stupid, stupid heart.
I wish I could just shut down my feelings and coast through the marriage until the time comes to dissolve this situationship but the truth is, I miss my bastard husband. I miss his cocky grin. I miss his smart-ass comments. I miss the way he would wrap my leg over his right before he'd drift off to sleep.
I even miss his snoring.
I smile at the women. "We got married right here, up on the rooftop, actually. It was a small ceremony. I wore my mother-in-law's dress."
The sisters' eyes go cartoonishly wide and they coo in unison about how sweet and dreamy the entire thing sounds.
The hole in my heart aches and stretches wider as memories of my wedding day play out in my head. God, I need him back.
Faith leans on the counter and props her chin in her palm. "I'm so glad we came here, Lexi. I feel like a huge load just rolled off my shoulders."
"I'm glad you came, too." I come around the counter to drape the garment bag over her arm. "How did you find me anyway?"
"Grace found your shopping app this morning and insisted that we drive up here," Lily supplies.
I blink at them. "My shopping app? I don't have a shopping app."
"Yes, you do," Grace says, squinting at me. She holds up her phone.
I take the device into my hand and blink down at the screen. That's my logo and branding. Those are pictures of my boutique.
Instantly, I know exactly who's behind this.
34
Cannon
The day I’ve been working toward is finally here.
Frank has performed his due diligence on the legal documents and if he tells me everything looks good, I trust him. Within the hour, the papers should be signed and finalized. I'm about to become the legal owner of Kingston Realty Holdings.
It’s a full family affair. I’m seated at our headquarters, crowded around the conference table with my parents and two of my brothers. My father’s lawyer is present, too, and he’s droning on and on.
I’ve seen Jude drift off at least twice. I don’t blame him. The legal stuff is mind-numbing. I’m just thankful he took a quick trip down here to make this transaction happen.
My mother must be tired too because she suggests we take a quick coffee break. I step out into the hall, but don’t head to the coffee pot with them. My nerves are already jumping; the last thing I need is more caffeine right now.
Dad strolls over to me where I’m pacing the worn, navy carpet. His heavy hand clamps down on my shoulder, bringing me to a halt. “Son, I just wanted to talk to you for a minute.”
The look on his face makes me nervous. Is he going to back out? Is he going to spill the beans to Ma?
“I want you to know I feel comfortable signing over the business. I see now that I was wrong about you and your new wife. Yes, the wedding was quick but you and Lexi look solid. A lot like your mother and me.”
“Thanks, Dad,” I answer.
Guilt claws its way up my chest. When my family asked why my new bride didn't accompany me to the signing, I told them she had to work today. Luckily, they bought my excuse.
My family has no idea that I couldn't even keep my fake marriage afloat until the damn signing. I've estranged my wife over a stupid mistake.
Alexia moved back to her place. Out of respect for the terms of our prenuptial agreement, she's been discreet about the break down of our sham relationship. But she wants nothing to do with me. I texted her four times this morning, telling her the signing is today. She never answered. She can't just up and disappear on me like that. It's a violation of our contract.
But I don't give two shits about the contract.
What matters is that she's cut me off, she won't speak to me and everything is meaningless if she's not by my side sharing it with me.
Fuck—I miss her.
I miss the way she keeps me on
my toes. I miss the way my face fucking hurts from smiling so often when I'm with her. I miss the way she makes me happy. And here I am, having to fake a smile and pretend life's just peachy so my father doesn't back out of this deal.
Dad leans in, with a half hug. “I’m proud of you, son.”
The words land in my gut with a bitter splash. Christ, I hope he’ll still feel that way when all of this is said and done. I want to do right by him and Gramps. I want to fix the mess I've made with my wife. Damn, no pressure, Cannon.
After Ma and my brothers refuel, we shuffle back into the conference room. I’m antsy. I want to get this over with. I might blow a gasket if anyone suggests another break.
Dad’s lawyer continues his speech while shoving document after document in front of each of us. “These documents state that Mr. Jude Kingston and Mr. Walker Kingston are selling their shares to Mr. Cannon Kingston.” My brothers scribble their signatures. “I want to make sure it’s clear though that Mr. Eli Kingston’s shares will remain in trust. When he’s released from incarceration, he can make the decision whether to keep his shares or sell them to you, Cannon.”
I grumble hotly, “Great! I’m in business with a convicted white collar criminal!”
“I know in my heart he didn’t do it,” my mother insists, her voice a little watery. And now I'm making Ma cry.
I'm winning today.
My father groans, resting his hand on hers. “No need for anyone to get worked up. Eli’s not on trial here with his family. He’s serving his time. Let’s just focus on the matter in front of us.”
I sigh, but I’m sure it comes out more like a growl.
Dad’s lawyer distracts me by handing me four thousand other documents to sign and initial. My family files out one by one while I scribble until my hand aches.
The second I finish the last page, the lawyer snatches the documents then he hurries out of the office, leaving me alone in the room.
It's official. I am the owner of Kingston Realty Holdings.
Mister Billions: A Small Town Enemies-to-Lovers Fake Marriage Billionaire Romance (Bad Boys in Love Book 1) Page 16
