I suck her roughly, bringing my hands to her hips to keep her in place as I let go, groaning my release, pouring myself into her. She gives a keening cry in response as she bucks, spasming around me, extending my own orgasm.
She falls against me as she finishes, breathless as she tells me she loves me in that sweet voice of hers. Emotion bubbles within me, rusty with disuse, my chest zinging with a warmth I can’t ignore. Words I haven’t said in over a decade flit through my head, retreating as fast as they come, and I keep my mouth shut, not wanting to ruin this perfect moment.
We lay idly for untold minutes until our hearts beat regularly, and I kiss her deeply, submerging myself in her presence, trying to preserve this memory. She snuggles into me, yawning, and I realize it’s the middle of the night still. I’ve been on a plane so long, time has lost all meaning.
I head into the bathroom to clean up and when I return she smiles sleepily at me, already under the covers, holding out an arm to me. I gladly join her, bringing her in close to my body, listening as her breaths become steady, sleeping peacefully beside me. I mentally trace her fair brows, long lashes, delicate nose, down to the lushness of her lips.
She’s mine. No matter what Dad tries to throw at me. And regardless of what our legal status truly is, I still consider her my wife in every way. I intend to honor our vows, even if it means we have to hold another ceremony.
“I love you,” I whisper, trying the words out, needing to say them alone first to see how they feel, with no pressure. And the truth is… they feel right. We’ve been on a crash course of a relationship, things more intense than they’d normally be between us from day one. It only makes sense we’d fall in love just as fast.
Every part of my life has changed, and I was being honest when I told her it was for the better. Things are richer somehow, fuller. Like I’m actually experiencing them rather than going through the motions. I still have work to do, I know that, but for the first time in a long while, I’m excited to see what tomorrow holds.
The next few days are filled with fresh beginnings. New phones for both of us, adding Serena to my bank account, having Lori secretly pack up our apartment, discreetly meeting with a real estate agent. And starting my first therapy session, Serena holding my hand the whole time in support. I’m glad the days keep me busy because it’s strange not going into the office. I still answer emails, but I had Connor tell everyone I’m sick and working from my hotel room.
The jig is up all too soon, though, as my old phone rings three days after my return, just as I’m narrowing down properties to tour that the realtor sent over. So Dad finally turned on the service, huh? I let it go to voicemail, listening to the message afterward to discover it’s Vivian, my dad’s secretary, requesting a meeting ASAP with him. Guess he knows I’m in New York then.
I call her back and set up a time for later in the day, then give Lori a heads up that she needs to finish getting everything important she can out of there and to the storage unit I rented. I have no idea if Dad will pull the same stunt he did with Gabriel where he up and changed the locks on the apartment.
No one gives me any strange looks as I enter Bishop Tower, not that I really thought Dad would air the family’s dirty laundry. But they’ll find out I’m leaving soon enough. I just don’t see any way I can stay here after what he’s done. I’m the second son he’s alienated now. He better be careful he doesn’t do it to Connor too.
I reach floor sixty, Vivian’s face sympathetic as I approach her desk.
She glances once to Dad’s closed office doors and back at me, whispering, “I warned him not to do this. That you’d take it seriously. But he wouldn’t listen.”
“Thanks, Viv.” She’s always been too good for him.
I knock once and enter, probably the most relaxed I’ve ever been when summoned here. There’s something to be said for no longer giving a fuck about consequences.
He peers up at me over the rim of his reading glasses, steepling his hands in front of him. “I thought you were sick.”
I stand behind the chair meant for guests, not wanting to sit just yet. “That’s what I told Connor.” Hopefully he bought that I left him out of the loop.
“What are you doing in New York?”
I let out a sigh, already done with his mind games. “You know exactly why I’m here.”
He scoffs. “Are you still hung up on that girl?”
I clench my teeth. How can he not realize he’s in the wrong here? “You stranded her. Left her homeless with no means of communication.”
He shrugs, the action making me see red until I remember myself. My hands grip the back of the chair in an attempt to divert my anger elsewhere. “She’s not our responsibility anymore,” he says evenly. “You were right about Greg. The P.I. hit pay dirt on him.”
My curiosity gets the better of me. “What is it?”
“That whole department doesn’t exist. He created it and drew those salaries because the board wouldn’t approve a salary increase for him until the end of the year.”
“Why’d he need the money that bad?”
“Gambling debts. Owes a pretty penny to some Chinese mafia and he’s in over his head. That’s why he was so keen to sell the company. Why he wanted his daughter connected to our name. Thought it would protect him somehow. Well, I’m not getting caught in all that.”
“Serena’s not part of-”
“She’s complicit,” he interrupts. “We’re not associating with any Montagues. That’s done.”
“She’s my wife. It’s too late to pretend a connection doesn’t exist.”
He smiles smugly. “I’m sure she’s already told you there’s nothing legal about your marriage.”
“I made a commitment to her. I’m not leaving her.”
His gaze narrows. “You can stop with the bullshit sense of honor. You’re set to take over this company one day. There’s no room for saints in the boardroom.”
I shake my head. No, I don’t believe by any means I’m a saint. If anything, I’ve discovered I’m more selfish than I ever thought I was. Because now that I have Serena, I’m not giving her up. “You don’t trust me to take over this company. You wouldn’t have pulled this stunt if you did.”
His lips pinch together tightly. “This was a lesson. To show you how ridiculous you’re being.” He spreads his hands out in front of him, face relaxing. “Now, if you just apologize, I’ll let bygones be bygones.”
Apologize? Is he serious? “Dad, I’m waiting for an apology from you.”
The faux friendliness drops from his features. “Archer, if you don’t pull your head out of your ass, you’ll find yourself in the same position as Gabriel.”
Ah, there it is. It was only a matter of time before that threat popped up. “I’m not ending my relationship with Serena. And at this point, I’m not sure if I can continue working for you. You’ve proven I can’t trust you.”
He blinks, mouth gaping at me. He’s had a hold on me and my brothers for so long, it must be quite a revelation for him to discover we don’t need him as much as he believes. Gabriel had more to lose, but I’m prepared. I negotiate an above market rate salary every year that’s immediately deposited into a private account Dad can’t touch. I invest half of it annually, and it’s only grown from there. Serena and I are set for life if we live within our means. It’s just never been in my nature not to work.
When his silence continues, I tell him, “You don’t have the same leverage over me you did with Gabriel. I can support myself. In fact, I could go out right now and start a rival company if I wanted.”
He sputters for a moment. “You try that and I’ll be on the phone with my lawyers before you leave the building. You signed a non-compete agreement.”
I shake a finger at him mockingly. “No, the other chiefs did. You said what was the point when it would be mine one day.”
His hands clench the edge of his desk. “You can forget about inheriting anything if this is the way you treat family.�
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“You brought this on yourself, Dad. The moment you turned off my phone. You knew how I felt about her and you did it anyway. There’s no reason you had to treat her like that. Or treat Gabriel that way either. I should have said something weeks ago.”
His nostrils flare, that vein in his forehead popping.
“You rule with an iron fist,” I continue, “and expect everyone to fall in line with your whims. I’m done with it.”
Eyes as cold as ice meet mine, disappointment and rage swirling in their depths. “Consider yourself disinherited then. That’s not an idle threat.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “I didn’t think it was.”
“Don’t bother going back to your apartment. It’s mine.”
“I know.” Joke’s on him because the place is empty of everything I want to keep. Lori made sure of that. I’ve already promised her full-time employment with a raise at whatever new home Serena and I buy.
“Get out of my office,” he grits out, hands gripping the edge of his desk.
I do as he says, looking back at him one last time by the door. “Don’t screw things up with Connor too. He’s all you have left.”
I exit, a weight lifting off me as I pass by Vivian’s desk. This must be what Gabriel meant when he said he felt alive. I don’t regret my decision. If anything, I’m exhilarated by it. I can do whatever I want.
But right now, there’s only one thing I want to do.
See Serena.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Archer
Days bleed into weeks as we embark on this new life together, swapping our old apartment in the Upper East Side for one in Tribeca, adding a third member to our family with the adoption of Petey, the dog with a walnut for a brain, and trying not to go crazy without work to occupy me every day.
Lucky for me, I have Serena’s shelter to focus on, including her fundraiser she’s been putting together. It’s more important than ever to receive new sources of funding now that she doesn’t have Montague Media or Bishop Industries to rely on, but with Gabriel’s connections, we should meet our goal and then some based on the guest list tonight. There’s even a TV network filming some kind of behind the scenes special that’ll increase awareness of the shelter.
“Do I look okay?” Serena asks me for the fourth time, smoothing down the front of her navy dress.
I tilt her chin up, laying a soft kiss on her lips before telling her, “You’re beautiful. Like always.”
She shakes her hands out, giving me a nervous smile. “Thanks.”
“I told you, I’m happy to make the speech tonight.”
“No, no. It should be me. I’m the founder. The chair of the board. I’m responsible for it all.”
“The offer still stands.”
Mackenzie comes around, a clipboard in her hand. “We’re just about ready for the welcome speech. Are you set?”
She nods, grabbing her index cards with her notes off the table. “I’ll be up there in a minute.”
Mackenzie circles away from us, pausing to grab an hor d’oeuvre off a passing server’s tray. The woman’s more than earned the right to a snack. She’s been a powerhouse putting this whole thing together in such a short time. And she and Gabriel offered to do it pro bono too.
I rub my hands down Serena’s arms, warming her up. “You’ll do great. You’ve memorized that speech backward and forward.”
“I know. I-” She pauses, glancing around the crowded room. “I just didn’t think this many would want to come to support the shelter.”
“Gabriel marketed it as the hottest benefit of the season.” And did a damn good job of it too surprisingly.
“It’s a nice problem to have, I know. But they’re going to see me up there and think-”
“And think that Archer Bishop is the luckiest man in this room.” I wrap my arms around her waist, bringing her in close to me. “There’s no doubt in my mind you’ll knock it out of the park.”
She finally loses that panicked edge, hugging me tight. “I love you.”
“Love you too.”
Her head whips up, blinking rapidly at me. “You… I…” She stops, the smile that spreads over her face contagious. “We’re talking about this later, okay?”
I nod, unable to help my own smile at her obvious happiness. Speaking with Dr. Brannock at our therapy sessions over the last few weeks has helped unpack a lot of baggage I had surrounding the issue. “Now get up there and kick butt.”
She bites her lip to contain her glee, relaxed now as she heads to the podium and addresses the crowd. I swear I didn’t say it to distract her, it just felt right. So much about being with her does.
I watch as she commands the room, so damn proud of her as she captures her audience’s attention, the things she was so worried about like stuttering or getting tongue-tied not even an issue. She made the decision to change the name of the shelter to New Beginnings, not only to cut ties with the Montague name but also as a symbol of this new direction life has taken us, and people have responded very positively to it.
When she’s nearly finished, she makes a gesture with her hand, knocking her index cards to the floor, and I see the panic overtake her face, the moment stretching out. Her eyes search in the crowd until they lock with mine, and I nod my head in encouragement, sending all my love up there to her.
She takes a deep breath, calming herself, and continues on without the note cards since she’s memorized it anyway. I clap loudly along with everyone else as she finishes, her director Wendy approaching her after, beaming from ear to ear.
“You, sir, are smitten.”
I turn, finding my brother grinning at me. I’ve met up with him several times over the last few weeks, each time feeling a little more natural, like we’re actually brothers who hang out. “Shut up.”
He smiles wider, scratching at his jaw. “I felt guilty there for a while you got stuck with her, but as it turns out, you should be thanking me.”
My lips twist. “Thank you, Gabriel.”
He bows in a mock courtly gesture. “All in a day’s work.”
“You know, um, I’ve been meaning to talk to you for a while. Like a serious talk.”
“Yeah?” He sobers, taking a seat next to me. People mill around near us, but no one’s close enough to overhear.
“Serena convinced me to go to a therapist.” His brows raise, but he stays quiet, allowing me to continue. “I’m letting myself think about Mom lately.” The subject still makes my chest ache, but it’s manageable now.
“What about her?”
I grab my glass of champagne, taking a sip to ease my parched throat. “I don’t know if she ever told you or Connor, but before she passed, she asked me to take care of you two. I wasn’t… well, you remember. I didn’t want to talk to anyone for a while.”
“I remember,” he whispers.
“My therapist says I have incomplete grief.” I shrug. “I’m working on it. But, um, I know I dropped the ball. I wasn’t there to take care of you like I promised. And I’m sorry.”
He stares at me, a strange look on his face. “Have you been worrying about that?”
“It was my responsibility. And I left you to deal with things on your own.”
“Archer, you were a grieving teenager, the same as me. No one expected you to actually take care of us.”
That’s the same thing Serena said when I confessed to her. “But I promised Mom.”
“That’s just something you say to a dying person. The one who dropped the ball was Dad. Not you.”
“He was busy-”
“Bullshit.” His voice rises, the couple at the table next to us glancing over in concern. “Too busy to deal with three grief-stricken sons who had just lost their mother to cancer? Nah. I don’t buy it. He should have made time, not pawn us off on hired help and hope we figure it out for ourselves.”
I’ve never witnessed this kind of intensity from him before. He’s always been the one to make a joke and brush things of
f. “Gabriel, I-” I don’t know what to say.
He lets out a long breath, his body relaxing. “Sorry, I’m done getting worked up over him. But Connor and I never blamed you for any of it.”
“Okay.” I’m not sure how else to respond.
“Seriously. Don’t blame yourself.”
I firm my mouth, my eyes blurring the slightest bit as I stare down at the tablecloth. Maybe this was the wrong place to have this conversation.
“The three of us did our best. It’s in the past now.”
I nod, getting myself under control again before looking up and spotting Serena still across the room, smiling as she and Wendy chat with a woman I recognize as a local philanthropist.
“You’re not a robot anymore, huh, Archie?”
I roll my eyes, appreciating his attempt at humor to make me feel better. “No, I’m not.” I won’t close myself off again. Not after experiencing what things are like when I open up.
He claps me on the back, opening his mouth to say something else, but his phone cuts him off, trilling from inside his pocket. “Duty calls,” he says, excusing himself.
I’m barely alone a minute before I’m ambushed by two people I thought I’d shaken. Harlan and Courtney Nash.
“Archer, my man,” Harlan says jovially, sticking his hand out for me to shake. “I’ve been trying to call you forever. I guess it’s not going through.” Yeah, because I don’t have that phone number anymore.
“It’s been a hectic month,” I reply, not wanting to go into the details with him.
“I heard you’re not working for your Dad.”
It’s not a secret I’m no longer with Bishop Industries, but we’re not advertising it either. “That’s right.”
“Well, I know you said you weren’t interested in appearing on Nash Ville before, but now that things have changed, I thought we’d extend the offer again.”
To guest star on their D-list reality show? Yeah, no, thanks.
A figure in navy blue appears at my side, almost like she could sense my discomfort, and my arm slips easily around her waist. Serena nods at the Nashes as I ask them, “Why do you want us on there?”
Marrying the Billionaire (Bishop Brothers Book 2) Page 23
