by Mia Carson
“I don’t give a damn. We didn’t want you, didn’t want her either after what she did to us!”
“Terry? What’s with the yelling? Where are all the movers?” a woman asked as she came down the stairs. She turned the corner, and Belle gasped at the ice-blue eyes staring back at her. “Oh, hello…Who are you?” she asked until she focused on Belle and her hand flew to her mouth. “No… no, it can’t be.”
“It is,” Brent said and walked back to stand beside Belle. “We’re your grandchildren.”
“Get out,” Bethany whispered hotly and pointed a finger towards the door. “Get out of our home this instant! We won’t give you a cent, you hear me? Nothing!”
“We don’t want money,” Belle snapped, holding her belly as she yelled. “Jesus, we just wanted to meet the only family we could find. Ask you questions.”
“You won’t be asking questions,” Bethany warned. “Look at you, just like your mother. Unwed, pregnant. Is he a ruffian too? Is he a worthless piece of shit ready to lay another stain on our family name?”
Brent and Belle exchanged a confused look before he asked, “Don’t you dare insult my sister.”
“Why not? She insults us by standing there in that state.”
“I’m engaged to Greyson Taylor, you horrible wench,” Belle said and held up her left hand, flashing her ring, and Bethany’s face darkened with a shade of guilt. “I’m sure you recognize that name. Billionaire, by the way, in case you were wondering.”
Terry and Bethany whispered to each other, but she shook her head vehemently and Terry cleared his throat. “No matter. We want you out of our house—now. I can’t stand the sight of either of you.”
“Why? Guilty because you didn’t take us in?” Brent accused.
“No, you remind us too much of your dead mother,” Bethany stormed through a sudden outburst of tears. “I can’t look at you! Get out of my house! Get out!”
Belle’s heart sank and tears of disbelief pricked her eyes. “Our mother is dead?” she whispered, the room shrinking in around her.
“Yes,” Terry informed her sternly, but there was hurt under his words, too. “She ran off with that man, had you two, and the next thing we hear, she’s dead and he’s nowhere to be found.”
“No… no, that can’t be right,” Belle muttered. “How… how did she die?”
Bethany crossed her arms, and the angry woman faded. Belle spotted the vulnerable old lady standing in her great big house. “We heard she had cancer and it took her quickly. She never even told us.”
“But our dad… Where is he?” Brent asked.
“Ran off, for all we know, and left our daughter to die… left you two… left you all behind,” she cried. “I can’t do this. Terry, please, get them out of our house.”
Belle planted her feet and shook her head. “No, not until you tell us his name.”
“You don’t know it?” Terry asked, surprised.
“No, we don’t. Please, we’ll leave you alone,” Brent promised sadly, “if that’s what you want, but please just tell us that much.”
Terry’s face screwed up in a snarl as he said, “James Hall. His name was James Hall, and he was the bastard who stole my little girl. Now, get out of my house, and if I ever see either of you again, I’ll call the police.”
Belle didn’t want to leave, not so soon and with so little information, but Brent tugged gently on her arm and they walked to the front door. Their mom was dead—for many years now—but their dad…If they could find their dad, maybe this trip would be worth it. They got into the cab, and Brent told the guy to take them back to town. They’d stay the night in Winnipeg and fly home in the morning. Brent held her hand the whole way, but neither said a word about what had happened. Their grandparents didn’t want anything to do with them, and their mom was dead. Belle rested her head back, wondering if this day could be any worse when they pulled up outside the hotel in Winnipeg, walked into the lobby and straight into Greyson.
“Oh, Lord,” she muttered at the glare on his face.
He crossed his arms over his chest, glaring at her through narrowed eyes. “That doesn’t even begin to cover it. Upstairs, now. We have a lot to talk about—and Brent?” he added as the man stood behind Belle. “If you ever run off with my fiancée again and don’t make sure I know you’re leaving the damn country, you better be ready for my fist in your face.”
He stormed towards the elevators, and Belle sighed. “Sorry,” Brent said.
“No, he’s right to be mad. I should’ve made sure he knew. It’ll be fine,” she said with a smile and squeezed his hand. “See you in the morning.”
She followed Greyson and waited with him for the elevator. She told him what floor her room was on and he punched in the button angrily. The whole time they rode up, he didn’t speak, and Belle ran over and over in her mind what she could say to possibly make this any better. But the only words that came to mind were Bethany’s, telling them their mother was dead. When they’d reached the room, she slid the key card in and opened the door. Greyson walked in behind her, and the second the door closed, he wrapped her in his arms and hugged her tightly, kissing the top of her head. His body thrummed with frantic energy, and she knew he was pissed.
“Don’t ever run off like that again,” he whispered. “You know how scared I was when Mom called saying she couldn’t find you?”
“I’m sorry. I tried to get ahold of you,” she said and tears sprang to her eyes. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I just… He called, and it was our chance so we went. Then we got there, and they hate us. They didn’t want anything to do with us and our mom was a screw-up to them and—”
Greyson kissed her gently, cutting off her words. “Take a deep breath and calm down,” he said sternly. “Sit down. I’ll get you some water and order some food, and then you can tell me what happened.”
She nodded and, wiping her face, sat on the bed. He handed her a bottle of water from the mini fridge when the words tumbled out of her. “They hated my dad and mom ran off with him. She’s dead, Greyson, my mom’s dead. Left us at a church because she was dying of cancer and her own parents wouldn’t take us in! Who does that? They said I’m just like her, I’m a stain… We’re just stains to them.”
The tears came unbidden, and Greyson sat on the bed, picked her up, and held her in his lap as she cried like she hadn’t in years. She hated herself for it, hated the Tinsons for making her feel so terrible about herself in a damn five-minute conversation. She waited for Greyson to say something—anything—about it, but he simply held her, the steady beating of his heart beneath her ear soothing her, same as the warmth from his hands. He held her until the tears finally stopped and she leaned back to look up at him.
“I’m sorry I took off,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry and I wish… I wish I hadn’t.”
He breathed heavily out of his nose but shook his head. “You needed to go and I’m still pissed at you for it, but at least you have some answers.”
“Some, but not all. Our mom’s dead, but our dad… They don’t know what happened to him.”
Greyson frowned and his eyes darkened. “So he might still be alive?”
“It’s possible, but I don’t know if I want to find him… not after today.”
“In seven months, you’re going to be walking down an aisle to marry me,” he told her, cupping her face lovingly in his hands. “If I can find the man who should be there to walk beside you and give you away, then I will.”
He kissed her, his mouth capturing hers, full of heat and desire, passion, and anger. Belle accepted it all, kissing him back just as fiercely, hoping he knew how sorry she really was for scaring him like that.
“I don’t deserve you,” she whispered against his lips.
“You more than deserve me,” he replied. “Don’t ever forget that. I want you, Belle, always and forever. But,” he added as he lifted her up and set her back on the bed so he could stand, “I don’t think I’m going to be nice and order you ic
e cream.”
She shook her head and laughed. “I think I can go without that for a night.”
He smiled over his shoulder at her and picked up the phone to order dinner for them both. She picked up her cell, finally getting a signal, and texted Brent: Talk to you in the morning, we can start our hunt for dad.
She set her phone aside and smiled, glancing down at her belly. “Don’t worry, bear junior, we’ll find your grandpa. I promise.”
THE PLAYBOY’S
VIRGIN #6
Chapter 1
Belle’s fingers paused mid-word on her keyboard as she placed one hand on her large, pregnant belly. A smile lit her face, and she stared down, her hand pressed to the place where a foot had just given her a hell of a kick. Every time she felt the little miracle, a new sense of awe filled her, and she was impatient to meet the little baby boy growing inside her. She was eight months along, so the baby would be here quickly, but not quickly enough for her.
Pushing back from her desk, she glanced around the office, searching for Greyson. She knew he was busy with the game launch only two weeks away, but the greatest stress reliever she could give him was feeling his baby. There was one other thing, but she didn’t think he’d appreciate her trying to tug his pants down while surrounded by his employees.
“Kelly!” she called out as the woman hurried by.
“What’s got you all excited?” she asked as Belle reached out and snatched her hand. She pressed it against her belly, and Kelly’s eyes widened. “Damn, he does have a kick. You weren’t kidding.”
Belle gasped when he kicked again, turning inwards this time. “I love it until he does that. Wow.”
“You look good. I’m going to assume the morning sickness is gone?”
“Finally,” she muttered. “Took long enough, but Sally told me she had it all nine months with the twins. Have you seen Greyson?”
Kelly nodded. “On the tech level with the IT guys.” The tone of her voice dropped, and Belle sighed.
“How bad is he?”
“His freak-out level or his crab-ass level?” she asked shortly. “The man sure knows how to piss Tim off every few minutes. I think it’s a record.”
“Great, I’ll go talk to him—again,” Belle said and waddled towards the elevator. She had used the stairs before, but over the last few weeks her belly had grown too much and she couldn’t see her feet, let alone the stairs she was stepping down onto. So she took the elevator, mostly to make sure Greyson wouldn’t have another reason to lecture her—though to be fair, he had backed off. He didn’t even hold her trip to Canada over her like she had assumed he would but dove headfirst into helping her and Brent track down their father, James Hall.
Except there were nearly five hundred James Halls, and so far, all the leads were useless.
When she’d reached the tech level, Belle stepped out and glanced right and left, wondering which way to go, when she heard a familiar growl of annoyance echo towards her from the right. Several guys rushed by, quickly ducking out of her way as she stormed towards the voices growing louder by the second. She turned the corner and saw Greyson and Tim, toe-to-toe, yelling at each other. Davis and Billy—a last-minute new hire—spotted her first and smirked, but Greyson didn’t and continued yelling, leaning into Tim. Belle rolled her eyes, put her fingers to her lips, and blew. The high-pitched whistle bounced off the metal cages of the servers, and Greyson’s mouth clamped shut as his head whipped around with a glare.
She met it just as fiercely, tapping her toe on the floor. “Did you two decide to revert to five-year-olds today?”
Greyson’s eyes blazed, but Tim’s face instantly broke out into a grin. “He started it.”
“I didn’t start anything,” Greyson argued. “What are you doing down here?”
She raised her brow, and her toe stopped its tapping. Davis and Billy backed up, hanging their heads and averting their gazes. Greyson might be known for his yelling around here, but Belle put him in his place with her furious, quiet voice that scared half of the guys who worked there.
“I heard you were berating Tim again,” she snapped. “You are two weeks away from the biggest game launch of this company and of your life, and you’re down here quarreling like a kid when you have more important things to do. Get your shit together, both of you, and start acting like you give a damn.”
Greyson choked, and Tim’s mouth fell open at her accusation. Davis coughed to cover a laugh, and Billy backed away even further as if putting distance between him and Belle would save him from her scolding. It wouldn’t.
“And the rest of you,” Belle snapped, turning her glare on them, “letting them bicker like this? Two weeks away, people, two damn weeks away, and instead of working together to solve whatever problem you think you found,” she emphasized, her eyes on Greyson, “you watch! If I have to come down here again, I’m bringing my Nerf gun and shooting you all in the eyes! Got it?”
Greyson groaned and stalked towards her. “You’re being a little over dramatic,” he said, his voice hard.
“Am I? What is the saying again? Oh, yeah, don’t piss off the pregnant lady.” He stopped when he stood right in front of her, and she poked him hard in the chest. “So don’t piss me off, bear.”
“When have I ever pissed you off, pet?” he asked, taking her hand and kissing the back of it.
“Don’t think you can sweet talk your way out of this,” she warned him as she dragged his hand down to her belly where their unborn son was kicking happily. The second Greyson’s palm lay flat and felt it, his eyes widened in awe and he sank to his knees to stare at the spot. “Your son’s been driving me nuts all morning. I don’t need you adding to it.”
Absently, he nodded, and Belle smiled softly down at him. He went from grizzly to teddy bear anytime the baby was mentioned, and she loved it. Lately, it was one of the only things to push him out of his grumpy mood and force him to acknowledge what he was doing. Greyson’s other hand moved up, and he matched her smile… until the sound of shifting feet behind him made him turn. His cheeks burning red, he cleared his throat and pushed to his feet, giving Belle a quick kiss on the lips.
“Right, sorry,” he growled firmly. “We were having a disagreement about how to fix a bug and things got out of hand.”
“Again.”
“Yeah, again,” Tim scoffed. “He knows I’m right.”
“You’re not right,” Greyson snapped until Belle pinched his arm, and he sucked in a deep breath through his nose. “You have a good idea, but I don’t think it will be a permanent fix. We can’t have any bugs in the game when we launch.”
Tim tossed his head back. “Then we’re screwed. The permanent fix will take longer than two weeks, boss man.”
“How many do you need?” Belle asked.
“No, it’s impossible to change the launch date now,” Greyson told her. “Bigsby Inc. won’t like it, and if they pull out, they take everything they helped us develop with them. It’ll ruin us.”
Belle stretched up on her toes, patted his cheek, and smiled. “You should know by now no one says no to me. I’ll get them on the phone and explain we have a delay.”
“No, they can’t know,” Tim yelped as he jumped back to his feet. “Those suits? My God, we’d never hear the end of how Greystone Games failed to come through in the clinch. No, we do the small fix, and we worry about it after the launch has taken place.”
Greyson glowered, but he didn’t argue. Belle stared between them, tugging at the piercings on her right ear before she laughed quietly. The men glanced at her, and Greyson reached out to grip her shoulders.
“Belle, you’re scaring the guys,” he muttered. “What’s so funny about the failure of my company?”
“I worked my ass off to get you where you are,” she reminded him, still laughing. “Do you honestly think I would let you fall on your face now? Who do you think you’re marrying? A pushover or a spitfire who happens to be jacked up on hormones?” She looked over his shoulder to T
im. “How long do you need to fix it properly?”
His eyes drifted away as he counted off numbers on his fingers, glancing over his shoulder every now and then at the monitor. “Another two weeks from the original launch date.”
“Then I’ll see that you get it,” Belle said cheerfully.
“That puts the launch right around the time you’re due,” Greyson argued. “We can’t do that.”
“Dr. Higgins said not to count on that date. She said it could be earlier, could be later,” she said with a shrug. “We won’t know until it happens, so I’m not going to worry about it. He’ll come when he’s ready, but I can help make sure this launch goes off without any problems.”
Greyson’s brow furrowed, and he glanced at her belly. “You’re sure this won’t be too much stress?”
“You’re too much stress,” she shot back with a grin. “I’ll be fine. I’m going to make a few phone calls, so I suggest the lot of you get back to work. I’ll let you know as soon as I get them to change the date.”
She walked away, Greyson following to catch her hand. “Belle… Is there anything else going on you want to tell me?” he asked quietly, running his thumb over her knuckles.
“No, why?” she said, but he didn’t believe her. His lips thinned into that domineering look he wore lately. “Yeah, I know I suck at lying, but can we talk about it later? Please? One major problem at a time is all I can deal with right now.”
“Is it about your dad?”
She sighed and nodded as she stared at the floor. “The wedding is in two months, and we still can’t find a trace of the right James Hall. We don’t even know what he did for a living.”
“Did you start in the town your mom lived in?” he asked.
After they returned home, Greyson and Brent had tracked down where the Tinsons were originally from, hoping to find some sort of trail there, but James Hall was not from her hometown of Hartford, Connecticut. They had found a wealth of information on their mom, though, and contacted a few people from the yearbook who knew her well. They’d been sending Belle letters and pictures over the past few months, so many that she hadn’t had a chance to go through them all yet. It was more than their grandparents had been willing to do, those rotten bastards. Her hands curled into fists, and her face scrunched just thinking of how they had looked at her—as if she would never be good enough for anyone simply because Penelope ran away to be with the man she loved and didn’t stick around to be the daughter they dreamed of.
