Little Sister Next Door

by Riley Rollins

  I swear it.”

  “Swear it to her,” he said, with a smile and a tilt of his head.

  “...Here comes your bride…”

  48

  Maggie

  Tomorrow’s forecast: Unseasonably mild, with high clouds and clear skies.

  It had taken most of the afternoon, but it had been worth it… to see the look on his face.

  I’d buckled to convention, giving in to the salesgirl’s insistence on white. The dress I’d chosen had long, elegant lace sleeves and a neckline that swept modestly from one shoulder to the other. But it was hardly traditional. The skirt was daringly short, edged with a delicate fringe, and exposed the long length of my legs… And I’d found the perfect pair of tiny, white leather boots…

  Dean took my arm and walked me the last few steps down the grassy aisle. I stood next to Joe and was rewarded by the tremble of his lips and the hungry glimmer in his eyes. He looked down at me and smiled. I saw the tip of his tongue sweep discreetly across his bottom lip, and it was my turn to tremble…

  “I adore you for those,” he whispered lasciviously. His lips touched the curve of my ear and I felt my knees weaken. “I’ll show you later how much… I have a little gift for you…”

  I slipped my hand into his and looked around, at all the friends and family who surrounded us. I turned and gave Jackie a grateful smile, finding her damp-eyed and smiling, too, next to my brother. Ryan was at Joe’s side, looking pleased and proud.

  But as the ceremony began, it felt like Joe and I were the only two people left in the whole world. There was music I could barely hear… words that swept past us in a whisper. Everything that happened around us seemed soft, and distant. The one real thing was Joe. He held my hands in his, never letting go. He held my eyes with his gaze, as if I was all he could see.

  A thousand memories of us filled his eyes.

  I looked around, at the only home I’d ever known, the only man I’d ever wanted. I saw the only future I’d ever dreamed of… there, in his strong, beautiful face. He slipped the ring on my finger… and we made our solemn vows. But it was the bond in our hearts, strengthened by the joining of our bodies, that had already made us one.

  He drew me into his arms and kissed me. And the joy that filled me was like the very first time…

  Hours later, after we’d said our goodbyes and waved the last of the guests away, I collapsed gratefully into his arms. We sat together on the front porch steps, his legs spread wide, and I nestled comfortably between them. I rested the back of my head in the curve of his shoulder and sighed deeply.

  He held up my hand and turned it in under the gentle, yellow porchlight. My ruby sparkled, spitting tiny flames, and the diamond band glittered cooly beside it. “Mrs. Decker,” he said against the side of my head. “I like the sound of that.”

  “Blake-Decker,” I corrected, butting him gently with my shoulder. “How about… Joseph Decker-Blake?” I teased.

  “Hmm… I’ll have to think on that one,” he replied, kissing my neck and getting to his feet. “I almost forgot… I have a wedding present for you.” He disappeared inside the screen door.

  “Bring me another piece of cake…?” I called out. I looked up and took a long delicious breath of cool night air. The stars were finally out, shining like tiny points of celebration in the dark. The white flowers from the ceremony seemed to light the yard, as well. Everything had been so beautiful.

  He handed me a paper plate with an indulgent smile. “What...? I like cake…,” I said, as he sat back down beside me. He held a wide, shallow box in his hands.

  “For my wife,” he said, dipping his finger in my frosting. “This is how I spent our wedding day, while you were out finding those fucking delicious boots…” He ran his finger up my thigh, leaving a trail of sweet, white sugar… “Open it.”

  I lifted the lid. “An album?” I asked, pulling the book out of the box. “Pictures from the article you published…? Oh…, Joe…”

  I turned the cover back, excited at the idea of having all the originals put together into a collection. As I flipped the pages, my excitement turned to wonder. I felt my jaw go slack as I turned page after page….

  “I wanted you to see what I see,” Joe said, tucking his face into the curve of my neck. He looked over my shoulder and turned the pages for me slowly, as I sat stunned and staring. Each photograph was of me. Holding a child, or holding a hand. One image after another, creating a larger whole… the bigger picture. I saw myself through Joe’s eyes, and what I saw was love.

  “All grown up, Maggie. A woman with enough courage and strength to give us all hope. That’s who I see when I look at you, sweetheart. You reminded me what it feels like… to have passion… to have purpose. Don’t ever stop, Maggie. No matter what our tomorrows bring…

  Don’t ever stop…”

  He reached into the bottom of the box and drew out an envelope. I opened it and took out two tickets…

  “I didn’t think an ordinary honeymoon laying out on a beach would satisfy you,” he said. “But I thought perhaps Africa might…

  A little honeymoon… maybe a little foundation work mixed in, too…” He caught me into his arms as I held his hands tight. “I don’t know if we can change the whole world, sweetheart. But if anyone can… it’s you…”

  He stood, pulling me against him and kissing me until my blood was pounding in my veins. He looked down at me, his eyes filled with love and promise. The heat of his body and the challenge in his eyes made me hot and shameless in the cool night air. I could feel his eyes on my flesh… my legs… His jaw tensed and that muscle twitched, pulsing deliciously. I bit into my lip and smiled my most wicked smile…

  I took his hand and led him under the wide, sprawling branches of the old oak. I gasped, needy and breathless, as I sat down on the rough wooden seat and felt his delicious warmth behind me. His scent filled the air as I lifted the tiny skirt of my gown, bending forward and baring my naked, waiting flesh. I looked over my shoulder, met his dangerous gaze and smiled boldly…

  “Push me?”

  The Baby Contract

  Marriage and promises and white picket fences...?

  Mistakes I'll never make again. I'm over that fantasy.

  So is Libby, and that's why she's the perfect surrogate for my baby.

  She gets paid, and I get an heir to the Mason family name.

  No fuss, no muss. Easy, right?

  I need a woman who'll let me impregnate her for pay.

  Libby's got zero interest in babies or a husband. She needs money, not complications.

  Yeah, I'll marry her to make it look legit, but I want a f*cking business deal. A contract. Legal, straightforward... Shatterproof. After Libby gives birth, she's gone for good.

  ...But once she's got my baby in her belly...

  Simple gets complicated.

  Ripe and luscious, with fertile curves that beg me to plant my seed, damned right I'm going to spread Libby's thighs and put my rock hard plow to work... Over and over again.

  Nine months? I've got to have more. Her body is my responsibility, my possession, my addiction.

  F*ck the agreement... This is gonna get dirty.

  1

  Jack

  I stare out into the steel grey sky of the city, through the crystalline wall of glass that separates me from the clouds… and the sixty floor drop to the concrete below. My office is on the top of the tallest structure in Asheville. Mason Steel Corporation. From here, I can look out over this city like a king. Or a tyrant.

  I'm Mason, The Jack Mason. So I was born with a silver spoon in my mouth. It was pure grit and determination that saved this company from ruin. What allowed my parents to keep the family manse in Biltmore. Decades of overly conservative business moves and dwindling capital had almost brought Mason Steel to her knees. Then I took over. And it wasn't our old-money name, or even my Ivy League education that had been responsible for bringing her back over the last fifteen long years. That had been me,
my sheer force of will. Along with seventeen-hour work days and a thousand sleepless nights.

  Lights flicker at a distance from the surrounding buildings and a few shine up from the streets below. The clouds shift thick and thin as the cold evening breeze shapes them. A thin mist of rain collects in tiny rivulets and runs down the enormous windows. It reminds me of the past. The painful past… and I work hard to push it down a little deeper.

  I'm not a man who knows how to fail. Not ever. From the outside, it looks like I have everything I could possibly want. Fuck, I pretty much do. All except for the one thing I've wanted my whole life, the one thing that matters more than anything. And no amount of money or success can make up for that kind of emptiness. It's my one real need. My one true weakness. The only thing all my fucking ambition and determination ever failed to force into reality.

  I stare into the endless grey night and it all comes flooding back…

  "Goddamn it, Jack," she screamed, "did you ever think for One. Fucking. Minute… that it just might be your fault?"

  Elaine was angrier than I'd ever seen her, and had more than a few drinks on board. It was a pattern that had been repeating itself for far too many months now. I ran my hand through my hair, forcing myself into a calmness I couldn't feel. I knew the last two years had been fucking hard for both of us.

  "Lainey, honey," I reached out to touch her hair and she turned away, a curtain of sleek bottle blonde falling between us. "This was never about fault. Lots of couples have trouble conceiving. What matters is that we're both committed to this… that we both want to have this family." I took a step closer and ran my hand down her back. The tension in her body made the bones just under her skin feel sharp, angular. "I don't care if our baby comes from my body… or from yours… That's the only reason I brought up the idea of a surrogate."

  I reached down to take her hand. Well-manicured nails bit into my palm, her fingers cold in mine. "This isn't about fault, or about giving up on our dream, Lainey. It's about making you a mom. And making me a dad." I swallowed hard, feeling a painful squeeze in my chest. "It's about becoming a family together, however that can happen for us."

  "We tried for two goddamn years, Jack. If it had been meant to happen it would have." Her voice was oddly calm as she turned to face me. "And you were never even home. It was always work with you, wasn't it? Always the fucking business and your goddamn family honor." She stepped toward the desk by the windows and sat down behind it. "Well, congratulations," she said, looking me squarely in the face. "You saved your family business. Mason is everything it ever was, and more. You're positively filthy rich again, and now I get what I really wanted all these years…"

  "Exactly, honey," I began. "The long hours are over for me now. Mason's stable and performing consistently, and there's nothing that Blake and Bennett can't handle." Two of my three brothers had been in with me neck deep for the long haul and knew almost as much about running the company as I did. "I can work three, four days a week tops now. We can go on that cruise you've been wanting. We'll make things right between us again." I looked into her eyes, made startlingly blue by her contacts. "We're secure now, baby. There couldn't be a better time to focus all our efforts on a family of our own."

  Elaine dipped her head, her hair shielding her face as she fiddled with the locked drawer and pulled out a thick cream-colored envelope. She straightened and looked up to meet my eyes. Her jaw was crisp, her chin as sharp as her gaze. She pushed the envelope toward me with the tips of her perfect nails. The edge of her lip turned upwards, but she wasn't smiling.

  "As usual," she said softly, "You weren't listening to me." She blinked and leaned back in the chair. "I said, it's time for me to get what I wanted." She looked at the envelope and then pointedly back at me. I took a step forward and picked it up, sliding my thumb under the flap. "I stuck it out, Jack. All those years with you working day and night. Recreating the fucking family empire."

  I pulled out a thick sheaf of papers and unfolded them. The paper was smooth, expensive. Her voice seemed far away suddenly, as my eyes scanned the embossed heading, the formal words on the page.

  "You did what you had to do, Jack. Just like I did," her voice said distantly. "You got your dream come true, and now it's my turn. In so many ways, we're really two of a kind…"

  Jackson Fletcher Mason, Respondent

  Petition for Dissolution of Marriage

  The words jumped out at me from the page and swam as I struggled to focus, to understand. Her words were cool in the background…

  "You wanted to save the family jewels, Jack. And you've done it, against all odds." She shifted in her chair like a cat settling in. "But that was your dream, not mine. Mine was to be the wife of a fucking wealthy man. And now I am."

  I looked up at her cool smoothness and held up the papers in my fist. "Yes," she answered the question burning in my eyes. "I stayed long enough to make sure you'd be rich enough to make both of us happy. And now that you are, I want what's coming to me." She smoothed sleek hair behind her diamond earring. "I've changed my mind about the whole mommy scene." Her hand dropped to her perfectly flat tummy. "Now I just want out. And I want what I earned by staying this long."

  The rain outside has started to slow. That night had been fourteen long months ago. I had moved out of the house we'd shared the following day. It might as well have been a lifetime ago.

  I sat down at my desk and smoothed the papers in front of me. The creases had softened with time and handling, but the ink was still crisp. The words still sharp. Divorce. For the first time in a dozen generations at least, a divorce in the Mason family.

  It wasn't that I wanted her back. Whatever we had shared was long, long over. Even though I'd tried to make it work, deep down I'd known the marriage had been a mistake from the start. Elaine and I had come from a similar background, a similar lifestyle and at first I'd thought that would be enough for us to build a life on. But the clashes had started soon after the wedding and had never really stopped. She'd turned to alcohol and shopping binges, I'd turned to work and burying myself in the seemingly insurmountable task of saving a failing business. The worse things had gotten at home, the more driven… and successful I'd become in the boardroom. It was all for the family who depended on me, I'd told myself. And for the family of my own that I'd wanted my whole life. Growing up with a sister and three brothers, I'd always imagined being a dad. I couldn't imagine any other kind of life. And right when I'd thought I was on the verge of seeing it all come true…

  I picked up a pen and held my hand, poised over the blank, waiting signature line.

  I'd known things weren't perfect between Elaine and me. But she'd always said she wanted kids as much as I did. Maybe we'd both thought it could help fix whatever had gone wrong between us. Or maybe we both wanted the right things, but with the wrong person. In any case, she'd made her desires painfully clear, and her financial demands even clearer. She wanted an extra four million a year just as compensation for the children she claimed I had failed to give her…

  I shook my head, deep in thought. In the last year I'd realized that, deep down, I didn't miss her. I wondered now, if I'd ever even loved her. It was the shock mostly, of thinking we'd been on the same page all along, only to find out in a single moment just how wrong I'd really been. That one partner's sole decision could so painfully destroy the other's dreams… I clicked the back of the pen and the point appeared.

  Even so, we'd spent too many of our youthful years together for me to hold onto the anger anymore. The ache I carried inside me wasn't about her or the divorce. It was an empty hole in my heart that still longed for the babies we would never have. I scratched out my full name and sealed the envelope. Turning my chair, I stared out into the deepening night.

  Somewhere before the darkness started shifting back toward daylight, I had made the decision. I go after business deals. It's what I do. It's what I know how to do. And it's never failed yet, to give me what I want.

  Fuck whet
her I had to do this alone. The fact was, it had to be done. I was going to be a father and there was nothing, no one, that could stop me this time. I might be all through with relationships and the drama that goes with them, but there's more than one way to make a baby…

  I unlocked the bottom drawer of my desk and pulled out the contract my lawyers had finished only yesterday. My sister, India, had already told me everything I needed to know about the girl, and I'd done a full background check as well. She seemed perfect. There were only a few more formal steps left…

  It was early, too early really, but I pounded out the numbers on my phone anyway. Seven rings later, India picked up, her voice raspy.

  "Whaaat?" she demanded irritably, knowing full well it was me.

  "Yes," I said firmly, in answer to the idea she'd put to me weeks ago. "Yes on the surrogacy. And I'm not waiting any fucking longer.

  Call her and set up the meeting… Bring her to the lake house.

  Today."

  2

  Libby

  Imaginary Mom would say, get your head examined. Or at least I think she would. How the hell would I know, really? Imaginary Mom is, well… imaginary. And Real Mom gave me up when I was four months old. Sometimes I think I can still remember her. A smell, or a color. But the second I try to catch ahold of it, the feeling's gone. All she honestly gave me was her genes, my name and the gold locket around my neck. Now I'm on my own. Like I've always been. Just like I plan to always be.

  I've shoved the last of pitifully few boxes into my rusty old Beetle. Books, clothes, shampoo. Today is moving day. Again.

  But I'm nothing if not resilient. You have to be, with a life like mine. I looked up one last time and watched the pink curtains fluttering in my bedroom window. Well, what had been my window. The lease ran out about the same time my money did, and I'm not one to overstay my welcome. Today's the thirty-first and I'm leaving the apartment cleaner than I found it. It's not so much the living space I hate to leave. It's that I'm losing my work space too. My first real studio… the place I found the gift of my own two hands. My passion. My value in this world.