The Everest Brothers: An Alpha Billionaires Series

by S. L. Scott

  I know he doesn’t believe me when I say I’m okay, but he lets me breathe anyway, knowing when to push and when to let it lie for the time being.

  Bennett joins us. “Damn, girl. You know how to rile the pops up.”

  As we walk up the stairs, I keep my head down, trying to keep my father’s words out of my head. “It’s not the first time. He’ll get over it.”

  “I’m glad Marielle wasn’t down here, or we all would be going to hell together.”

  “New York’s not hell,” I say. “It’s a paradise compared to how the past few years have been here.” Hutton’s silence reveals his concern, so I poke him, hoping to eke out a smile. “Hey, it’s going to be okay. I will be, too.”

  “I can’t believe—”

  “This is a long time coming. I’m just sorry you’ve been mixed up in it.”

  Bennett says, “The jet will be ready in thirty minutes. How long do you need?”

  “Ten minutes tops.”

  We walk farther down the hall after Bennett enters his room. As soon as we walk into Hutton’s quarters, I’m tempted to hide like I used to, to pull the covers over my head and wait for a new day to begin. That’s not going to happen this time. “My father called me a whore.”

  “You’re not a whore,” Hutton says, setting his suitcase on the bed and opening it. “There’s nothing wrong with what you’re wearing. You were wearing it to bed, for fuck’s sake. What does he want you to wear to bed? A nun’s cloak?”

  “It’s complicated.”

  “You’re telling me.”

  I sit on the bed next to him and watch as he tosses his stuff inside the case. Shoving my hands into the pockets of the robe, I’m met with something hard. I look into the pocket and find a passport—mine to be precise. Margie. After the fight we had, I’m surprised to see this sleight of hand with her helping me out in my time of need. This little gesture gives me hope that we’re not too far gone to mend our friendship.

  Leaning forward, I ask, “Are you okay? Are you hurt?” I reach for his hands to inspect for damage, but he pulls away.

  “I’m fine. I just want the fuck out of here. I’ll grab my stuff from the bathroom, and then we’re gone.”

  Returning with a small leather bag, he tosses it in the luggage but then flips through his papers. His eyes flash to mine. “You need your passport.”

  I pull my passport from my pocket and wiggle it.

  He says, “That’s convenient.”

  “Maybe Margie doesn’t hate me like I thought.”

  Stopping to look at me, he asks, “What’s going on with Margie?”

  “What’s going on with Margie?” How do I explain that without crying? For many years she’d been my best friend. Yet now . . .

  “Let’s just say that two years together in Texas were not good for our friendship. Or rather, they weren’t good for Margie. Some of that is on me. Long story for another time.”

  “We have a seven-hour flight ahead of us, and I’m all ears.” The suitcase is closed, and while he zips it up, he looks me over. “You look fantastic to me, but do you think they’ll let you change clothes?”

  I can’t go to my room. If I do, I’ll break down when I see what has been my whole life for so long. “No.” My father doesn’t deserve the satisfaction of my tears. I pop my chin in the air, feeling stubborn. “I don’t need anything from them.”

  “I’ll have Singer loan you clothes until you can buy what you need.”

  “With what money?”

  He sets the case down on the floor. “What’s mine is yours. I can and will buy you anything.”

  “Anything.” I walk to the window and look out over the roundabout where an SUV already waits. “From my parents’ daughter to your care.”

  “Ally?”

  “Huh?” I look back at him.

  “I didn’t mean—”

  “I know what you meant. I just . . .” My voice trembles. Taking a deep breath to help stifle the sob lying in wait to break free, I turn around completely. “I have these degrees, but they’re basically worthless because I was ultimately trained for one thing.”

  “To be the queen.” I nod, and he adds, “But guess what? You can be anything you want to be.”

  “Where?” I snap. “In New York? Texas?”

  “Anywhere you want to be. You’re intelligent and brilliant. From the moment I met you, that drew me to you.”

  “I don’t even say what I want to half the time.”

  “Then imagine how incredible it will be when you do.” Crossing the room, he closes the distance between us and stands next to me. “Don’t hold back anymore. I’m not your father or your mother. I want nothing else other than your happiness.”

  “How do you do that?” I reach for his hand, rubbing my thumb over the veins on top of it. “You’re offering me anything I need, but don’t you see? I have nothing to give in return.”

  “I want to kick your father’s ass for what he called you—”

  “Hutton.”

  “What?”

  “You can’t say things like that. He’s the crowned prince.”

  “He’s not mine,” he replies incredulously.

  “He is mine, though.”

  His frustration shows in the way he looks at me—sharp gaze narrowed—so I say, “Don’t worry about me. He’s mad, but he’ll cool down. Anyway, he doesn’t have the final say. My mother does, so I’ll be fine. But what can I do for you?”

  “I’m good.” He runs the back of his hand gently down my cheek. “I get time with you. You’re all I need, baby.”

  Leaning my head on his arm, I hug him. “I’m scared.”

  His arms come around me. “I know, baby. But you’ll be okay. I’ll be here for you however you need me.”

  “Promise?”

  “Cross my heart.”

  With the suitcase in tow, we walk down the hall together.

  Easy. I was crying earlier over the sharpness and stabbing of my father’s words, but Hutton’s right. He’s the easiest decision I’ve made in years. I reach for his hand, and when he takes mine, I bring it to my lips and kiss it. “Thank you.”

  “For?”

  “For loving me through thick and thin.”

  “That’s easy, Ally. You’re easy to love.”

  We descend the grand staircase—the one where my mother held me when I was introduced to the world, the one where we took our family portrait every year, and the same stairs I’ll walk down for my coronation. They’re called grand for a reason.

  As sure as I am of my love for Hutton, I’m sure that one day I’ll still be the queen, no matter what my father said. Those were only words spouted in a heated moment. As for Dick, after tonight, I will never be forced to share his company again, and I most definitely won’t be his wife.

  New York will be a necessary break for all of us. This trip will give us the time we need to think and to clear our heads. We’ll talk later in the week, but for now, I’m going to support my man.

  Yep. My man.

  * * *

  I don’t think I’ve closed my mouth since the jet landed. “These buildings are bigger than they seem on TV.”

  “We have some in Houston, but not everywhere you look like here.”

  “Where do you live?” I ask, sitting back in the car we took from the private airport. It’s taken over an hour to get into the city, and I have no idea how much longer it will take, but it’s an incredible sight to see for the first time.

  Reaching over, he slides his hand under mine and holds on. “Not too much farther. I’m glad you’re here.”

  “Me too.”

  “Are you scared? You left everything.”

  “It was nice of Birgit to give me her clogs.” I hold up my feet and wiggle them. “Not the sexiest, but they’re pretty comfortable.”

  “You know what I mean. You’re wearing a robe.”

  “Good thing there are no cameras around.” I try for humor, but it doesn’t reach my heart. “I don’t thin
k it’s fully set in.”

  “You sure you don’t want something from my suitcase?”

  “No. I’m fine.”

  “Fine,” he repeats, looking unsatisfied. Glancing out the window quickly, he then turns back to me. “We’re here.”

  I bend to look out the window and see a mirrored building leading straight to heaven. The car drops us off at the curb. A doorman wearing a suit similar to the duke’s opens the shiny brass doors for us. I tighten my robe around me, and whisper, “Okay, now I feel like a crazy lady.”

  Hutton wraps his arm around me.

  The doorman says, “Welcome home, Mr. Everest.”

  “Thank you, Jimmy.” I live in a palace, but this place is amazing. White marble fills the lobby, making it appear pristine with modern seating off to one side and Jimmy’s desk on the other. “Jimmy, Ms. Edwards will be staying with me indefinitely. Can I get a key made for her and access to the facilities?”

  “I’ll take care of it right away, sir, and welcome, Ms. Edwards.”

  “Thank you,” Hutton and I say at the same time.

  When we step into the elevator, he pushes the button, and says, “I live on the twenty-sixth floor.”

  “That’s really high up.”

  “My brother Ethan owns the penthouse. I’ll take you up there later.”

  “Where does Bennett live?”

  “Same floor as me.” Touching my chin, he says, “Are you tired?”

  The overnight flight allowed us to sleep, but I still feel like I’m dragging. “Exhausted.”

  “I’m going to take a shower unless you’d like to take one first?”

  “I really want to sleep, but I think I should shower first.”

  “You got it.”

  “Why did Bennett have to go into work right away?”

  “He needs to close down the file and check on some of the clients we’ve not been able to talk to while we were away.”

  “The communications file for my country?”

  He nods. The doors slide open, and we step out. “There are only two doors?”

  “Bennett lives down there. I’m on this side.” I look down the hall one way and then follow him down the other direction. With a smirk on his face, he opens the door. “Home sweet home.”

  I walk in with my mouth hanging open again. “That view.”

  “It’s amazing, right?”

  “I’ve never seen anything like it.” Moving inside, I hear the door click behind me and head for the windows. With my hands pressed to the glass, I can see the Statue of Liberty and for miles beyond. Whipping back to him, I say, “You must do very well to afford that view.”

  Chuckling, he replies, “I do. Let me show you around.”

  I marvel at the kitchen and how open everything is. “Birgit would love this kitchen.” Wobbling my head, I add, “Gerhart would hate it.” It’s an inside joke, but Hutton’s sweet enough to laugh. “Show me the bedroom.”

  “Happily.”

  I’m led into the master bedroom and look around. Cool grays and dark navy accent the white sheets and pillows. “That’s the largest bed I’ve ever seen. I can’t wait to climb into it.”

  Scooping me into his arms, he carries me to the bed, and says, “I’m so glad you’re here.”

  I’m dropped with a bounce on the mattress. Being very un-princess-like, I sprawl my arms and legs out. “Now this is heaven.”

  Jumping on top of me, he shakes his head. “No, heaven is having you here with me.”

  “I love you, Hutton Everest.”

  “I love you, Ally Edwards.”

  “Guess I’m back to my old alias.”

  “You’re in New York. That means you can be whoever you want to be.”

  Mrs. Everest has a nice ring to it, but so does Queen Arabelle of Brudenbourg. I have no real idea what my future will now be, but whether here or there, I need to see if I can reconcile the two lives together. My life makes sense with Hutton in it, and I will do anything it takes to keep him there.

  24

  Hutton

  I expect to see Ally when I walk in from my errands. When I don’t, I set the flowers on the kitchen island and call her name. After sleeping for hours, I got up to grab a pizza and picked up flowers for her along the way.

  “Ally?” She was restless when I got up, but now I’m met with silence. I head to the bedroom, hoping my girl was able to get some more sleep.

  My steps are quick, but stop altogether when I find her asleep in the bed, curled on her side and hugging a pillow like it’s me. It should be. I slip off my shoes and undress as I maneuver to the bed. Climbing under the covers, I move so I can wrap myself around her.

  As the sleep wears off, she says, “Jet lag is a bitch.”

  I laugh. I don’t even know if she’s trying to be funny, but she speaks the truth. My body is heavy; my mind fuzzy from the craziness during the last week. “We’re supposed to stay up and get on East Coast time. We failed.”

  “Sleeping felt too good, so I’m good with our choice,” she says, rolling over to face me. “I did get up long enough to call and refill my pills since I left them in Brudenbourg.” Stroking my cheek, she smiles. “You packed some extra bags since we’ve arrived.”

  “Ha. The bags under my eyes are carry-ons from the lack of sleep. I feel like I could sleep for a week.”

  “Let’s do it. Stay in bed with me all week. We can order in and make love. We can be each other’s world for just a little while. Sounds amazing, right?”

  I kiss her softly on the lips. “Amazing.”

  Her arms come around me, and she gets as close as she can, one of her knees wedging between mine. “I missed you.”

  “I was gone longer than I wanted to be, but I don’t want you getting sick of me.” I wink and run my hand over her hip.

  “Never. I never have enough time with you, so I won’t be sick of you anytime soon.” She winks right back. The spitfire. “Will you be working every day while I’m here?”

  “We should talk about your stay here.”

  That sets off alarms, and she starts to push up. “If it’s a burden, I can stay at a hotel.”

  As I’m holding her too tight to let her escape, she relents and stays put. “You’re not a burden. You’re . . .” I look at her mouth, her nose, her neck, and her shoulders. I look everywhere, anywhere but in her eyes. We’ve told each other we love each other, so the rest should come easy, but with her life in transition, hopefully transitioning into mine, I wonder if my confession is too much, too real to say right now.

  “What am I?” she whispers.

  When I hear my anxiousness reflected in her question, I’m quick to ease her concern. “You’re the best thing I’ve ever come home to. You’re the reason I came home. So you’re not a burden to me. You’re welcome here as long as you want to stay.”

  She snuggles against me again; her breath warm against my neck, and her heart beating steady against mine. “Good. I have no money, so you’re kind of stuck with me for the time being anyway.”

  “Have you thought about what happened yesterday?”

  “It’s all I could think about. It’s why I finally gave in to the jet lag. I needed to shut off my mind.”

  “And?”

  “I’m okay.” Lying on her back, she glances outside the window before staring at the ceiling. Rubbing her eyes, she yawns. “A part of me wonders if my father meant what he said.”

  I roll onto my back, keeping my arm along the length of hers, liking the contact. She knows her father better than me, but what he said didn’t sound like a threat. It sounded like a decree. I’ve kept my mouth shut since my opinion won’t change a thing, but her mind is going to station itself in the worst of outcomes soon enough. When she looks at me for an answer, I take hold of her hand and hold it on my chest. “You said ‘for just a little while’ and ‘for the time being’ like this is temporary, like we are. I don’t want to push you in any way, but what are you thinking?”

  “I never mean
t—”

  “I know you don’t want to hurt me—”

  “Never. But I also never meant to insinuate we’re temporary, Hutton. You’re not to me. We’ve been on the verge of this conversation so many times but have managed to avoid it. Living in the moment. Not wanting to risk the good we were having. Whatever the reason was, the situation has changed, and we need to talk about it. About us.”

  “Do you want to talk over dinner?”

  “I’m starving,” she says, climbing out of bed, bare-ass beautiful, “but I’m not getting dressed.”

  Grabbing the remote from the nightstand, I flick the button to close the blinds. That sweet little ass is only mine for the lookin’. “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

  She twirls twice—hands in the air, up on her tiptoes, smile on her face, hair swinging around her shoulders—as she heads for the bathroom. Walking backward, she says, “That goes for you too, sweet cheeks.”

  “Sweet cheeks?”

  She shrugs as she spins again and disappears behind a closed door.

  I’ve never felt luckier in my life than I do right now, but how do I hold on to the magic she brings into my life when it can be so easily ripped away?

  I get out of bed, hoping we can find a way to be together because right now, we’ve lost the sun through the clouds. I’m willing to do whatever she needs from me, to be who she needs, but will that be enough if she’s not the queen?

  * * *

  With a blanket covering her, Ally’s cuddled up on the couch and staring at the screen. “What happens if the quarterback falls?”

  “Falls? Quarterbacks don’t fall.”

  Pointing at the large screen, she says, “He falls if the guy in green takes him down.”

  “You mean if he’s tackled? That’s a quarterback sack if he’s behind the line of scrimmage and can’t deliver the ball down the field.”

  “TMI.” She leans her head on the back cushion while I chuckle. “American football is very slow.” I recognize the football frustration. I’ve experienced it many times. She points at the screen, and says, “They’ve only gone a few feet in the past ten minutes. Why are there so many commercials and delays?” She seems to stop to ponder while wiggling her toes. “Let’s get to the action. Come on, Texans.”