Manhattan Millionaire: Book Three in the Kendall Family Series

by Jennifer Ann

  Taking her face in my hands, I nudge her head to the side and gaze into her eyes, waiting for her permission. After a slight nod of her head, I cover her mouth with mine, barging my tongue past her lips and twisting it against hers. Grabbing onto my suit lapels, hard breaths fall from her nose as she kisses me back so firmly that I’m sure our lips will come out of this bruised.

  I always imagined kissing Sofia would be a serious mind-fuck because I’ve wanted her for so long, but I wasn’t expecting it to feel so right, or for our mouths to fit together so perfectly. I have a feeling this beautiful vixen is going to be the eventual death of me, and I can’t think of any other way I’d rather go out.

  Wrapping her lithe body in my arms, I try like hell to remind myself I can’t let loose on her after what she said, but she tastes like fucking nirvana and my cock is so eager for a chance to join in that I swear it’s going to bust its way out of my dress pants. She relaxes in my arms, letting me hold her upright. But it’s more than that. She’s giving herself to me, trusting that I won’t let her down. So, respecting her decision to wait, I set her feet back down on the stone and carefully detangle our lips and bodies while each of us try to catch our breaths.

  Sofia’s eyes slowly flutter open and her lips bend with the most genuinely happy smile I’ve seen since the day we met. Her cheeks are flushed, her lipstick is smeared, her lips are irritated from my beard, her hair’s disheveled from my hands, and her shoulders are slack like a puppet cut from its strings. She’s never looked more gorgeous.

  “W-wow,” she finally stutters.

  Chuckling, I pull a stray strand of hair from her mouth. “That was certainly worth a nearly two-year wait.”

  From the expression she’s giving me, I can physically see her melting. “You’ve wanted to kiss me for that long?”

  Taking her hand in mine, I draw her close again. “Since the first moment I laid eyes on you, I knew that little mouth of yours would be fucking amazing.”

  “Really?” Her eyes narrow. “You mean right after you pushed me ass-up in your sister’s bushes?”

  “I didn’t push you, the door did. I helped you out of the bushes.”

  Rolling her eyes, she leans up against my shoulder and ducks her head, trying to hide her smile. “I guess I thought you were okay, too. I was just in a really bad place for dating, and I don’t mean geographically.” Her gaze rolls back to mine. “I still am. We have to take this slow, Nolan. There’s too much at stake.”

  “You don’t have to remind me,” I say in a soft voice, running the pad of my thumb across her bottom lip.

  When she gasps quietly, her pupils widen and I think she’s going to kiss me again. Instead she releases her hand from mine and steps backwards, tugging at her dress until it’s straight. “I’ll go upstairs first so Sharlo doesn’t razz us about being alone together.”

  Trying not to laugh, I stand and avert my eyes to her hair. “Better pay a quick visit to the restroom before you go.”

  Blushing, her hands reach up to pat the hair on top of her head. “Why do I get the feeling I’m always going to look flustered after we’ve spent time together?”

  I only chuckle in response as she scurries away, a half-smile still lit on her face. Finally kissing her was the highlight of my week…hell my entire life. Nothing can stop me now from making her mine.

  The shower goes by too damn quickly. Before I know it, we’re saying goodbye to guests and packing cars with baby gifts. Knowing I’ll be spending the rest of the weekend with Sofia makes it easier to let her go. Though she merely pecks me on the cheek before leaving, I run my finger along the inside of her arm as she’s doing it, and she draws away with the same drunken look she gave me before we kissed.

  Watching her slip into the car, I realize I have to do whatever it takes to expedite the sale of the Vegas property so I can show her just how badly I want her without holding back.

  But there’s no time to focus on business as I dedicate my focus on helping James prepare for his fight with Dick “The Pick” D’Arggo the following night. For a solid hour after the party, we spar on and off in the private gym before I notice James is overly sluggish and sloppy.

  “Your concentration is shit,” I say when I easily deflect one of his elbow strikes. “What’s your deal?”

  James becomes still, then retreats to the side of the ring to grab his water bottle. His brows draw down when he takes a swig. “I don’t want Shar coming tomorrow. The Pick has a reputation for making things bloody. She can’t afford to get upset when she still has a few weeks to go.”

  “That’s between you and her,” I grumble, watching as he squeezes water over his head.

  “Come on, man. You know how she is. She listens to you. If I tell her I don’t want her there, she’ll see it as a challenge and won’t back down. I won’t be able to focus worth a shit if I’m worried about her going into labor.”

  Rubbing at my sweaty face, I realize he’s right. Sharlo’s tough, but when it comes to her man, she’s uncharacteristically emotional. And the way she’s been crying over the lamest things the past few months, I wouldn’t be surprised if this did send her into premature labor. They already lost one baby after she was hit by that asshole, and even though this one is much further along, I don’t know that she’d survive losing another if there were any complications.

  “I’ll talk to her,” I surrender.

  “She’s at Sof’s new place on Henry Street, helping her settle in.”

  I blink several times. “Sofia found a place in Brooklyn?”

  “Yeah, not far from Leona’s. She seemed to be in a hurry to find something local after you guys came back from Vegas.” Grinning like a jackass, he launches a towel that hits me in the face. “Better shower up before you see my sister. I can smell you from here.”

  “Why are you busting my balls?” I ask, wiping sweat from my chest.

  “Come on, Nolan. Shar told me there’s something stirring up between the two of you. If she hadn’t, I would’ve figured it out anyway the way you were watching her at the party.”

  I wipe at my face, mentally bracing myself for the overprotective brother speech I can feel coming. James isn’t the kind of man who takes anything lightly. Intensity rolls off him in tidal waves. I’ll be lucky to walk away from the ring with all my teeth still in place.

  “She needs someone like you,” James says after a beat. “I know you’d treat her right.”

  “Are you shitting me?” I ask, throwing my sweaty towel back at him. “James ‘The Beast’ Kendall isn’t going to chew me a new one or threaten to kick my ass if I break his sister’s heart?”

  Swatting the towel to the ground, his eyes take on the fierce look I was waiting for. “I can kick your ass any day of the week.” Then his lips bend and he’s laughing. “Go wash that nasty ass of yours and work your magic on my little butterfly. I’m going to hit the bags for a bit then go home and rest up. I get the feeling it’s going to take a shitload of energy to beat The Pick.”

  I move over to bump his fist. “Thanks for being cool about it.”

  “You were pretty chill with me back when I was too big of a pussy to fight for Sharlo. Figure it’s only fair to treat you the same.” His arm suddenly hooks around my neck and he rubs a knuckle over my head. “Just be good to her, numb nuts.”

  “You can count on it.”

  I arrive on the doorstep of Sofia’s new apartment over an hour later with a bouquet of freshly cut flowers in hand. Since I didn’t want to run back into the city, I grabbed a shower at the gym and dressed back into the suit from Sharlo’s shower.

  The fact that Sofia’s living a mere stone-throw away from Leona’s has me fantasizing about overnight visits on nights when I close down the bar. I’ve always loved the neighborhood because it brings back so many memories of hanging out with Grams as a kid. It’s much quieter than what I’m used to, but it’s charming in so many ways that I suddenly find myself agreeing with Sofia that it would make more sense for me to
live here.

  “Are you aware every flower has a special meaning?” Sharlo sings, dragging me back to the moment. She’s all belly as she comes through the doorway, thin smile stretched across her lips. Plucking one of the yellow flowers from the bunch, she wags it in front of my face. “I believe primrose stands for ‘can’t live without you’…”

  She stops when Katie and Sofia come in behind her.

  Sofia’s eyes widen when they meet mine. Wearing a Day of the Dead t-shirt splattered with different colors of paint, hair slicked back in a ponytail, she’s simply adorable. Smiling warmly, she brushes a strand of hair fallen from her loose ponytail, smearing a line of gray paint across her cheek in the process. Even when dirty she’s a fucking knockout, and the ponytail makes her look more playful than usual.

  “Hey, Nolan,” she says as her cheeks begin to flush. “What are you doing here?”

  “Thought I’d stop by and welcome you to the neighborhood,” I say, handing her the flowers. “Are you giving tours?”

  “Of course!” Sofia answers, pausing to smell the flowers. “These are beautiful!”

  Thinking she’s beautiful, I step forward and use my thumb to wipe the paint from her face. A quiet gasp falls from her lips. As she reaches up for my arm, her lustful eyes land on mine.

  “You had some paint,” I whisper, showing her the pad of my thumb.

  Sharlo claps her hands together loudly, making us both jump. “As much as I’d love to grab a bag of popcorn and watch this lovely scenario between the two of you finally take its course, I believe I should be heading home to check in on my fighter.”

  “I should…ah…head out too,” Katie says, glancing between me and Sofia.

  “Hold on,” I say, turning to grab Sharlo’s arm. Flexing my jaw, I take a deep breath. “I have to talk with you about something before you go.”

  Sharlo sets both hands on her hips. “Out with it then. I cannot wait to hear what you’re about to say based on that dreadful look you’re casting.”

  My phone begins playing “Carry on Wayward Son” in my suit pocket.

  “Go on, answer it,” Sharlo prods, motioning to my pocket. “I know that ringtone was assigned to your grandmum.”

  Excusing myself, I pull out my phone and step into a cozy little living room with a stone fireplace and wooden floors. Even with the boxes piled up and no furniture it’s already as inviting as hell.

  “This is Nolan Zimmerman,” I answer, trying to push aside the fantasy of fucking Sofia next to a roaring fire.

  “Nolan, this is Karen Walters, the director at Crestford. I’m afraid I have some upsetting news.”

  Chapter 12

  SOFIA

  Though I tell myself it’s not my business to listen in, Sharlo’s already craning her neck, doing just that as Nolan carries on a very short conversation. From his grave tone and clipped replies, I get the sickening feeling that something’s terribly wrong.

  “Is there something finally happening between you two?” Katie whispers, cocking an eyebrow at the flowers still in my hand.

  “We’re just friends,” I insist, setting the flowers among a pile of boxes on my dining room table. My heart has lodged its way inside my throat, knowing there’s something wrong with Leona.

  “Well, I think you two would make an amazing couple,” Katie comments, reaching for her coat and shrugging. “I better head out. I told Allen I’d help him look online for a graduation gift to give his girlfriend. There’s so much drama around young love, it’s ridiculous.”

  There’s that word again.

  “You better go home and rest,” she tells Sharlo. “It’s been a long day.”

  “Yes, Mum,” Sharlo teases.

  She kisses Sharlo’s cheek before slipping out the front door. When Nolan returns from the living room a moment later, he’s noticeably pale and his expression is distant when his eyes fall onto me.

  “They think Grams is dying,” he tells us in a level barely above a whisper.

  I hear Sharlo say, “Oh, love,” as I bounce to my toes and wrap him in my arms, squeezing tightly. Though he doesn’t move his arms from his sides, I can feel his body become slack beneath me. For a moment, I worry he’ll collapse.

  “I’m so sorry,” I tell him.

  “I need to be with her,” he mumbles against my head.

  “Of course.” I draw away to look at him. “Do you want me to take you?”

  Feelings aren’t something I work well with, but as upset as he must be, there’s no way he should be getting behind the wheel and driving alone into the city.

  He merely stares down at the floor as his eyes fill with tears. I’ve never seen a normally strong, confident man like him quite so broken or lost.

  “Give me a quick minute to throw something else on,” I tell him. Tears spring to my own eyes when I take his hand and his crushed gaze draws up to mine. “Okay?”

  When Nolan barely tips his head with a nod, Sharlo tells me, “Go ahead, love. I’ll keep him company.”

  I release his hand. Sharlo hugs him as I turn away and sprint up the stairway to my new bedroom. My stomach sinks deeper as I rummage through my closet for something to wear. I’ve never watched someone die. I’d normally shrink away from that kind of thing, knowing there will be tears and heartache—the exact emotions I go out of my way to avoid—but I have to suck it up and be there for Nolan. His world revolves around his grandmother. I worry how he’s going to adapt without her in it, though it will likely fuel his desire to carry on her legacy even more.

  Settling on a pair of designer jeans and plain gray tunic, I quickly run a brush through my hair and slap it in a new ponytail before heading back downstairs. Catching Sharlo and Nolan still in an embrace sends waves of jealousy through me that I know I have no business feeling as their relationship is more of a sibling nature, but I suddenly realize just how much I want to be his rock in all of this. I want to be there in any way I can, every step of the way.

  For someone with intimacy issues, I’m falling way too hard, too fast.

  The memory care facility is eerily still and smells faintly of cleaning chemicals. It’s also cozy and warm, with rich carpets and beautiful, Greek revival architecture from the 1800s. Unsurprisingly, the place screams top dollar. Knowing Nolan and how much he loves his grandmother, I imagine he searched high and low for the best home money could buy.

  A portly old nurse wearing animal-print scrubs stops us in the hallway outside of Leona’s dark room. “As you’re aware, she hasn’t been eating the past couple of days,” the woman says in a quiet, kind voice. “We don’t know how long she’ll be this way. She might wake on and off. And she might say things that don’t make a lot of sense. Her body’s shutting down. You should say your goodbyes. If she tries to get up, which may or may not happen, you can press the button on her headboard and someone will come to help.”

  Nolan squeezes my hand so tightly that it sends a flicker of pain through my bones. But my heart hurts more.

  “Thank you,” I tell the woman as she’s leaving. Turning to Nolan, I stroke his arm. “Let’s go in so you can sit with her.”

  His steps are hesitant as we enter the room, silent except for the sounds of her shallow breaths. Out of nowhere, I’m transported back to my mom’s final days when she lost her battle with cancer. It’s a crippling sensation, being sent back to those moments of heartbreak. I could never decide which was worse: watching her fade away to nothing and hearing she died while we were asleep, or seeing my dad’s body in a casket after he was stabbed to death by our money-hungry uncle.

  Swallowing down the need to cry, I watch Nolan sit at his grandmother’s side with heartbreaking sorrow etched across his face.

  “What do I do?” he asks in a voice laden with tears. When he tilts his head up to face me, the need to wrap him in my arms again strikes me so hard that I almost cry out. He looks like a ten-year-old boy in the moment, lost and afraid.

  I pull up a smaller chair and sit at his side, squeezing his
thigh. “Hold her hand and let her know you’re here. Tell her that you love her.”

  Watching him stroke her cheek and talk to her in a hushed voice is almost more than I can take, but I remain strong. His rock.

  As the night stretches on, we play her favorite songs quietly in the background as Nolan tells more stories of a hip grandma who smoked weed and messed around with famous rockstars back in her prime. Nurses come in and out to check on her, but Leona remains asleep.

  Sometime in the early morning hours, I doze off on his shoulder and later wake to find him passed out with his head pressed to mine, one hand still linked with his grandmother’s and his other wrapped around mine. The sweet gesture sets my heart aflutter, making it difficult to fall back to sleep.

  When I wake to muted sunlight creeping in behind the thick curtains, I notice Leona’s mouth is lagging and her chest is still. A cry hitches in my throat.

  She’s gone.

  Nolan continues to sleep soundly, his hand no longer wrapped with hers. When his features are relaxed he’s even more handsome, the worry lines between his eyes erased. God help me, he’s the epitome of a beautiful, kind man, and my heart wrenches with the heartache he’s about to face. I’m suddenly unable to swallow when I’m faced with the truth: I haven’t just “fallen” for him. I almost feel sick to my stomach when we’re apart, and a warm glow spreads across my chest whenever he’s near. I’ve become dependent on him to make me truly happy.

  But this can’t be love. It just can’t.

  Sliding onto the arm rest of his chair, I kiss the side of his head and squeeze his free hand. “Nolan, sweetheart, wake up.”

  Inhaling deeply, his lashes flutter before his eyelids flip open. His gaze darts down to his grandma and his head drops. When he gently releases her hand, setting it on the bed, I slide into his lap and hold his head to my chest. I feel him fist the back of my shirt as he begins sobbing in a quiet, mournful sound that brings a wave of tears to my eyes.