by Sofia Tate
Gigi groaned. “I’ll get rid of him.”
“No, it’s fine. I’ll deal with him. Stay here.”
She wiped off her tears and walked over to the door, letting her father inside.
He glared at his daughter. “Georgina, could you please give my daughter and me a minute alone?”
“Stay right where you are, Gi.”
Blake pushed his hands through his hair in frustration. “Blakely, I’m tired of this! Locking yourself away up here when there’s a party going on downstairs in your honor!”
She raised her hand to him, palm facing outward. “Hang on, I’m confused. Two seconds ago, it was a party in ‘our’ honor.”
“Stop acting like a child, Blakely. Come downstairs right now and talk to Ross.”
She took a deep breath. “No, Daddy,” she calmly replied.
“Would you care to tell me why?”
“Because that prick you wanted to set me up with was only interested in one thing—hooking up with me.”
Blake shook his head dismissively. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
She stood firm. “I’m a woman, Daddy. I know exactly what I’m talking about.”
He pointed his finger at his daughter. “You’re coming back downstairs with me right now!”
Blakely bore her eyes into her father’s. “No.”
Her father shook his head. “I can’t talk to you when you’re being this unreasonable, Blakely. I’m so ashamed of you right now. You’re not the daughter I raised. I’m so disappointed in you.”
She sighed. “Daddy, I’ve done everything you ever wanted of me, and now you’re throwing a party for me because I’m going to be a partner in one of the top management consulting firms in the country. How could you possibly be disappointed in me?”
Blakely waited with baited breath for him to reply. Instead, she watched as he walked out and slammed the door behind him.
She looked over at Gigi. They smiled at each other.
Gigi stood up and hugged Blakely. “I’m proud of you, sweetie.”
“It’s been a long time coming. And I’m still hungry.”
The two women pulled away. “Let me go see what’s keeping your mom,” Gigi offered.
“Thanks. Love you.”
Gigi glanced back at Blakely just before she reached the door. “Love you too.”
With Gigi out of the room, Blakely sat back down on the bed, taking in a few deep breaths and wiping her eyes. She marveled in wonder over herself and what she had said to her father.
I can’t believe I just did that.
Something felt different. She couldn’t explain it. But something had come alive in her. A driving force pulsed within her, pushing her to do something that instant.
She reached over for the extension phone that sat on the nightstand. She dialed a local number. “Lawrence, it’s Blakely Pierce. I’d like to set up a meeting with you at your earliest convenience next week. I need some legal advice.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Between the roar of the vacuum and Johnny Cash’s voice blasting from his iPod dock, Ronan was oblivious to the multiple knocks on his front door. He gasped when he saw his father, mother, family lawyer, and Colleen, their realtor, standing in the threshold of his living room.
He jumped back in surprise. “Jesus, you almost gave me a damn heart attack! It’s too early for in the morning something like this.”
Malachy grinned. “Sorry, son, but you didn’t hear us knocking.”
“Fair enough. What’s going on?”
Rosaleen announced, “We have news.”
Ronan’s eyes widened. “Already? It’s only been two weeks since the listing was posted.”
“The buyer is very eager to close as soon as possible,” Colleen said.
“Why? So they can start tearing down the trees and putting up luxury condos?”
Rosaleen beckoned to the group. “Why don’t we all go sit down at the table and discuss everything? Coffee all around?”
Four heads nodded. Ronan briefly shut his eyes from worry. Taking a deep breath, Ronan followed his mother into the kitchen as Malachy led Stewart and Colleen to Ronan’s dining table.
As Rosaleen started pouring the coffee grains into the filter, Ronan pulled out two kinds of milk from the refrigerator and placed them on the counter.
His mother’s eyes rose in curiosity. “When did you start drinking almond milk, love?”
Ronan shrugged his shoulders as if nothing was out of the ordinary. “Oh, I don’t know. A few weeks now, I guess.”
“Is it any good?”
“Yeah, it’s not bad. I prefer the original over the vanilla because it’s too sweet for me.”
Rosaleen smiled. “Oh, do you now?”
He gave his mother a gentle nudge. “Come on, Ma. Leave it.”
Rosaleen picked up the sugar on her way out of the kitchen. “Well, I suppose change could be a good thing sometimes. Bring it out to the table in case someone else wants to try it.”
“Okay, Ma.”
With everyone now caffeinated, Colleen placed a folder on the table. “All right. A few days ago, I received a call from a lawyer in New York City by the name of Lawrence Bergen. I checked him out. He’s legit. He has a client who wants to buy the property who’s willing to pay over the asking price.”
“By how much?” Malachy asked.
“Ten percent. And they’re ready to increase that if there are multiple bids. As of today, there are none. This is the only bid I’ve received.”
Ronan’s eyebrows narrowed. “Who’s the buyer?”
“That’s one of the interesting things about this offer. The buyer wishes to remain anonymous.”
The Byrnes looked at each other. “Why?” Malachy finally asked.
She shook her head. “I honestly have no idea. Plus, it’s a cash offer, so there won’t be any escrow or mortgage.”
Ronan saw his parents’ eyes widen in surprise. He leaned forward. “You said that was only one of the interesting parts about the offer. What else is there?”
Colleen pulled out copies of a contract from her folder. She handed one copy to the Byrnes, the other to Stewart.
She looked over her notes. “You can see on page one that the buyer is actually a partnership.”
Stewart read the name of the partnership aloud. “C&R Partners, LLC. What do you know about them?”
“They’re new, created especially to purchase the land from what Mr. Bergen told me. The papers were filed in Delaware.”
As everyone studied the contract, Colleen went down her list. “Oh yes, this was very interesting. Look at page three, paragraph six.”
The sound of flipping pages could be heard in the room as everyone searched for paragraph six. Rosaleen spoke up first, “Does that say what I think it says?”
Colleen nodded. “Yes, Mrs. Byrne. The buyer insists that if anything is ever to be built on the property, the buyer must have the seller’s full consent.”
Malachy, Rosaleen, and Ronan all gasped in shock. “Who would do something like that?” Ronan wondered aloud.
Stewart put the contract down on the table. “Who knows. An environmentalist. Definitely not a property developer.”
Colleen continued. “The buyer also requested for you to have approval of the new owner if the land is ever to be sold again once the buyer is in possession of the land.”
Ronan put his hands up in the air. “Whoa! You’re telling me we can still say who gets to own the land if this buyer wants to sell it again?”
Colleen nodded. “Yes. The contract stipulates both of those clauses be valid in perpetuity, meaning those points could…”
Malachy finished her thought. “—never be voided. They’d be part of any future sale.”
“Exactly,” she agreed.
The Byrne family leaned back in their seats in disbelief. Ronan shook his head.
There’s got to be a catch to this. There has to be. What kind of buyer would ever do t
his for them?
Stewart placed the document in his briefcase and looked at his clients. “I’m going to contact Lawrence Bergen when I get back to the office. Once I speak with him, I’ll call you and give you my thoughts.”
Malachy and Rosaleen nodded.
Colleen looked at Ronan, whose attention seemed to be drifting. “Ronan, do you have any questions?”
He shook his head. “Yeah, like a million of them, but unfortunately you can’t answer them.”
“That would seem to be the case.” She put away her writing pad and stood up. “I thank you for the coffee. And I expect I’ll be hearing from all of you soon.”
Everyone nodded. Colleen and Stewart rose from their seats, with Ronan showing them out.
When Ronan returned to the table, his parents were holding hands. “Well, what do you think?”
Malachy and Rosaleen looked at each other. Malachy smiled with tears in his eyes. “It’s a gift from God is what I think, son.”
Rosaleen wiped the tears off her cheeks. “Can you imagine? We’ll get the money from the sale so we can still live on the ranch and keep the land intact! I wish I could kiss the heavenly angel who’s making all this possible for us.”
She looked at her son, who was giving off a wary expression. “Ronan, what’s wrong?”
He began to pace the room. “I don’t know. It’s almost too good to be true. There’s something off about this.”
Malachy huffed. “You’re not going to contest this, are you? Think about your ma and me.”
Ronan turned to face his father. “Oh no, Dad, don’t worry. If Stewart checks everything out and advises us to take the offer, then of course I’ll go along with it. How could I not? I just wish…”
Rosaleen sighed. “I know, love. Me, too. I just wish I knew.”
Malachy stood up and clapped his hands together. “Well, this is turning out to be a fine day. I say we go call Declan and Liam to tell them the good news, then we’ll go out to dinner tonight to celebrate on me.”
Ronan squirmed. “Umm, Dad, don’t you think you’re jumping the gun?”
Rosaleen waved her hand dismissively at her son. “Hush! Your father just offered to take us out to dinner. Don’t make him take that back!”
Ronan smiled. “Sure, Ma.”
His parents came around the table to embrace their oldest child, then walked to the door. Before Rosaleen joined her husband outside, she turned to Ronan. “By the way, love, that almond milk…not bad. Not bad at all.”
Ronan smiled wistfully as he watched his parents make their way over to their house.
You’re right, Ma. Not bad at all.
Blakely was enjoying a rare quiet evening at home. She was caught up with work, so she put on her black sweats, wrapped her dark grey cashmere blanket around herself, and snuggled on her cream suede sofa.
She turned on the television to find something to watch, but her mind drifted to Ronan, like it always did whenever she wasn’t focusing on work. She wished she could’ve been in the room when Ronan and his parents found out about the offer on the land. Lawrence had heard from both their realtor and lawyer, and he told Blakely that Malachy and Rosaleen had been overcome with emotion when they heard about the specifics of the deal. But Ronan had seemed skeptical, as if it was too good to be true.
She smiled. Typical Ronan.
No, Ronan, you’re the one who’s too good to be true.
Blakely sank deeper into the sofa. She brushed the blanket off her arms, lifting her hips and pulling off her sweatpants and thong. She gently began to massage her pussy, inserting her fingers inside her core to open her pink folds.
She closed her eyes, and his face appeared. She saw his electric blue eyes, how they came to life when he argued with her, and how they went soft when he held her in his arms. She imagined running her hands through his thick hair, how she loved to take it into her fists when he was pleasuring her with his mouth.
He was holding her now in his bed, his strong arms surrounding her, the ones she felt safe in. She could smell him, that scent of fresh hay and soap that always made her wet.
Without warning, he sat up, his knees under him, and pulled Blakely to him. Then he quickly turned her around facing away from him. His mouth began to travel along her neck, his hot breath on her ear. He took her breasts in his hands, playing with them, tugging on her nipples until she begged him, “Please, Ronan…”
His right hand travelled down to her slit, where she was already wet, ready for him. He inserted his index finger inside her. Her arms came around his neck, pulling him closer to her.
“I want your cock, Ronan,” she moaned.
He leaned her slightly forward, holding her hip with his left hand as he guided his dick, searching for her opening. He plunged himself inside and began to piston her, impaling her as she bounced up and down on him, her head thrashing back and forth, yelling his name, wild and wanton.
On the sofa, Blakely’s body began to shudder. She sped up her hand, pressing the heel of it down harder onto her mound, her fingers vigorously working inside.
She arched her back and let out a scream of ecstasy. “Ronan!”
Blakely fell back onto the couch. She was covered in sweat. She pulled up her thong and sweats, closing her eyes and falling into a deep sleep, dreaming of Ronan.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Ronan stared at the usual suspects gathered around the table, except this time his parents, Colleen, and Stewart were in his father’s office.
Colleen pulled out three copies of the contract. “Stewart has looked them over and he approves of the terms.”
Stewart nodded his head. “I was pleased with the conversation I had with Mr. Bergen and everything is on the up and up.” He looked at Malachy and Rosaleen. “As your lawyer, my advice is to sell. You will never find an offer as generous as this one, both financially and with its specific allowances.”
Rosaleen looked nervous, but Malachy squeezed her hand. “It’ll be all right, my love.”
They glanced at Ronan, who nodded in agreement with his father.
“Does anyone have a pen?” Rosaleen asked.
Stewart pulled one out of his pocket and handed it to her. She signed where the tabs indicated, and then passed the documents to her husband.
All of the Byrnes took deep breaths, reaching out to each other to hold hands.
Colleen took the documents and put them into her messenger bag. “Well, I have to say that was probably the easiest sale I’ve ever handled. I’ll contact Mr. Bergen when I get back to the office and take care of the paperwork. I’ll be in touch.”
Everyone stood and exchanged handshakes. Ronan began to walk toward the door when his father called out, “Son, could you stay a minute?”
He sat back down. “Sure, Dad. What’s up?”
Malachy went over to his desk chair to sit down and opened his top drawer. He began to noisily shuffle through its contents. “I can never find anything in here.”
Rosaleen’s eyebrows narrowed. “My love, what are you looking for?”
He finally pulled out his hand, with a business card being held between his fingers. “Aha! I was looking for this. You see, Stewart and I have been talking, and now that we’re going to have this money, thank the Lord and the all the saints in heaven, we can start to think about redoing this place.”
“Dad, don’t you think you’re getting a little ahead of yourself?”
Malachy waved his hand in the air that held the business card. “Nonsense. And I have here just the person who can help us.”
As Malachy picked up the phone, Rosaleen inquired, “And who would that be, dear?”
“Blakely.”
Ronan grabbed the sides of his chair. “Blakely Pierce?”
His father laughed. “Do you know anyone else named Blakely, son?” He checked the clock on the wall. “Let’s see, it’s 11:30 here, so she should be back from lunch by now, I expect.”
Ronan’s heart began to beat faster. His palms began
to sweat. He looked to his mother for help.
Fuck. Please don’t let him do this, Ma.
Rosaleen quickly walked over to her husband and pressed her hand on his arm. “Malachy, I don’t think this is a good idea.”
“Me too, Dad,” Ronan said nervously. “She deals with multinational corporations, not Nevada dude ranches.”
Malachy looked quizzically at his wife and son. “What is it with you two? When she was here for the wedding, we talked about how the ranch could be improved. She had some great ideas and gave me her card in case I ever wanted to talk to her about it. And now, that’s what I want to do, so would you both calm down, for crying out loud?”
Rosaleen and Ronan exchanged nervous looks as they watched the head of the Byrne family dial a Manhattan number. He set the handle down and pressed the speaker button.
A young female voice answered on the other end. “Blakely Pierce’s office. Clea speaking.”
“Hello, Clea. This is Malachy Byrne.”
The woman’s voice lightened. “Oh, yes, Mr. Byrne. We spoke when I was calling to make reservations for Ms. Pierce for the wedding. It’s lovely to hear from you again.”
“Yes, lovely indeed. Would Blakely by any chance be free? I’d like to talk to her about a personal matter.”
“Certainly, just one moment.”
The phone went silent. The next few minutes were the longest of Ronan’s life.
Blakely’s strong, confident voice suddenly came over the line. “Malachy, is that really you?”
Ronan shut his eyes.
Oh, Christ.
He crossed his legs as his cock went hard within seconds of hearing the sound of her voice. She spoke with a professional, no-nonsense tone, arousing him even more.
“Hello, Blakely. How are you?”
“I’m very well, thanks. And you? How’s the family?”
“We’re all doing well. Very well in fact.”
“Oh, really? What’s going on?”
This is fucking torture.
“Remember what we talked about when you were here?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Well, as much as we resisted it, we’ve sold off some of our land, and now that we’re not, how would you say, cash poor anymore, I’d love to ask for your advice on how to improve the ranch.”
