His to Love (Fireside #1)

by Stacey Lynn

  “That’d be kind of you.”

  I reached for my phone in my purse and pulled it out as we stepped into the elevator. It buzzed in my hand again, and I frowned when I saw my father’s name lighting up the screen.

  A weight fell in my stomach.

  He never called me this incessantly.

  “Excuse me,” I muttered to Nancy and unlocked my phone. “I have to take this call. Is there anything else we need?”

  “Not at all. I’ll send your information in as soon as I get back to the office.”

  “Thank you.” I tried to smile but it felt forced.

  As soon as I stepped into the lobby of the apartment complex’s main building, I sat down on a red leather couch and hit the redial button. My father answered halfway through the first ring.

  “Where are you?” he snapped.

  “I’m in Latham Hills looking at apartments. What’s going on?”

  “You need to come home.”

  My breath stalled in my chest for a moment, but I fought through my fear. “Is it Mom?”

  “Just get home. Immediately.”

  The click of him hanging up echoed in my ear and I closed my eyes. My shoulders heaved. I just ate dinner there last night. I spent most of the day before over at the house helping Clarissa bake more pies. My mother slept most of the day but was awake and alert for small intervals. How could she already be doing so poorly that I needed to hurry home?

  With what felt like sludge weighing down my legs, I pushed off the couch and managed a weak wave to the doorman, Billie. He looked ancient—late sixties, at best, and his hair was completely gray. He sported what had to be the world’s worst comb-over, but he seemed friendly.

  I reached my car, parked in a visitor’s spot directly outside the leasing center’s Clubhouse. The complex also housed a small workout room which I would most likely rarely see, but I also knew it had a pool and hot tub, which I was looking forward to using often once summer hit.

  Once I started the car, I remembered my dinner plans with Tyson. The easiest thing would be to send him a text, but I wanted to hear his voice. Thankfully, once I dialed his number he answered almost as quickly as my father had.

  “Blue?”

  I sighed and my eyes closed. I really liked his voice and the way he said my name. “Hey. Listen, I’m going to have to cancel on dinner.”

  “Okay…I thought you had news for me.”

  “I do.” I fidgeted and ran my hands through my hair before I began tapping on the steering wheel. “Unfortunately my father just called and I need to see him.”

  “I see.” His tone was clipped.

  My lips pulled to one side. “I’m sorry. Raincheck for tomorrow?”

  “How about drinks when you’re done at home?”

  “I don’t know how long that will be.”

  “I’ll wait up. Just come to my place.”

  Driving all the way to my parents’ house, then back to Latham Hills meant I had to pass my hotel twice. It wasn’t the longest trip, but I had no idea how long it would take with my father. Already, I felt the adrenaline I’d most likely been running on all day begin to dissipate. I was going to be exhausted later. Too tired for a drink.

  I also realized I didn’t care.

  My hand twisted around the steering wheel, and I smiled softly. “Okay, Tyson. I’ll see you later.”

  I agreed to call him as soon as I was on my way, and then I hung up the phone, pulled out of the parking lot, and headed straight home.

  The entire time, I was praying that my mother hadn’t taken a drastic turn for the worse.

  —

  My heart pumped wildly against my chest as I climbed out of the car in my parents’ driveway. Gathering up my courage, imagining the worst-case scenario, I hurried up the stairs and pushed open the front door. The clamor of pots and pans in the kitchen echoed down the hallway toward me, and Claude was nowhere in sight.

  I should have run to my mother. Seen how she was. My fear instead moved me toward the kitchen, where I knew I would first see Clarissa. My heels clicked along the tiled floor until I stopped in the doorway of the kitchen. Everything appeared as it should. Clarissa stood in the kitchen facing the stove and stirring a sauce that had steam wafting from the top. It smelled delicious—like marinara seasoned with her special spices.

  “How is she?” I asked, stepping into Clarissa’s domain. It was also the one room in the house where I knew I was always welcome.

  Clarissa’s head jerked back at the shock at my voice. “How is who?”

  “Mother. Father called me several times this afternoon and said I had to get home.” I stopped and ran a hand through my hair. I tried to catch my breath but it was useless. I was terrified. “I came as quickly as I could.”

  A line appeared between her brows. “She’s fine, bella. She’s been resting all day like usual, and nothing bad has happened.”

  A sigh of relief escaped me and I leaned forward, bracing myself on the edge of the counter. Tears formed in my eyes as I accepted the news. She wasn’t dying. Not today, anyway. I should have been grateful. I was only more confused.

  Lifting my gaze only to see concern shining in Clarissa’s eyes, I asked, “Where’s my father?”

  “He’s in his study.”

  “Ugh.” I stood up and fixed my hair and then took the time to make sure my clothes weren’t horribly wrinkled. The last thing I needed was an argument with my father over my appearance. If he didn’t call me home in such a hurry to see my mom, I had no idea what he wanted. “I’ll be back soon.”

  “Gabriella?”

  “Yes?” I turned and looked at Clarissa over my shoulder.

  “He’s not alone.”

  I frowned when she began wiggling her eyebrows.

  My shoulders drooped.

  “Malik is with him?” I asked on a defeated sigh. This wasn’t good. Both men had called me earlier and my father’s insistence had to mean a horrible thing.

  “Have fun.”

  I snorted, earning me an unladylike look from Clarissa, and hoofed it to my father’s office.

  I should have ignored his call and just gone to dinner with Tyson. But now I was thinking I couldn’t wait for a drink at his place later. I figured that after this conversation, I was going to need one.

  Or six.

  Chapter 13

  To my surprise, the door to my father’s office was wide open. I didn’t bother knocking on the doorframe to make my presence known. His head snapped up as soon as he saw me. He was sitting behind his desk, a glass of whiskey held gingerly in his hand. His lips pressed into a straight line barely masking his annoyance that it had taken me so long to get here.

  I couldn’t help Detroit traffic.

  “Come in.”

  I obeyed and stepped into his office and immediately saw Malik in a chair to the side of my father’s desk where he couldn’t be seen from the doorway. He turned to face me and then pushed to his feet, setting his own glass down on the desk. I fought the urge to crinkle my nose. I despised whiskey.

  “Good evening, Gabriella,” Malik said, stepping forward and doing that proprietary thing he did that I was beginning to also despise. With one of his hands low on my hip, he leaned forward and brushed his lips across my cheek.

  “Evening,” I muttered, glancing down to my feet.

  When Malik had dropped his hand from my hip and stepped away, I slowly brought my gaze up to meet my father’s. Irritation bubbled beneath my skin. This was the man who had allowed me to believe that something was wrong with Mom, all under the guise of getting me to the house. The man had no shame when it came to getting what he wanted.

  A lumped formed in my throat at the thought. I knew what he wanted. Malik’s presence made that clear.

  “Before you get started with why I’ve been summoned,” I started, unable to hide the anger from my voice, “I thought you should know that I took your advice and spoke with Ms. Pillar. I began my position with DPA this morning. And I’ve pl
aced a deposit on a new home, apartment, really.” My father’s lips thinned further. His frustration with me rippled through the room.

  I almost wanted to smile. Maybe curtsy.

  “Is that all?” he asked, his lips twisting into a sneer.

  No. But it was enough.

  At the small nod of my head, he relaxed slightly. “Very well, then.” He continued. “Malik will escort you to the benefit next Saturday.”

  I gritted my teeth. I should have known I would be railroaded into this after I dismissed Malik’s invitation. Malik was just as cunning as my father. I might have underestimated his interest in me.

  Before I could think of the appropriate words to say, to tell him that I had already asked Tyson to accompany me, Malik stepped forward and took my hand. “It will be pleasure to have you on my arm.”

  I bet. I barely spared Malik a glance before looking back to my father. He looked rather pleased with himself as he sipped his whiskey. I knew better. His current relaxed state only hid the cogs working in his mind, trying to find a way to trap me.

  “I would like to speak with Malik for a few minutes. In private,” I said, stressing the words at the end.

  “Whatever you have to say—”

  For the first time in my life that I could remember, I interrupted him. “Will be said in private. Either here or later.”

  Both men tensed.

  “Jimmy,” Malik cut in, his voice patronizing as he glanced at me with a wink. “Please, allow me to speak to Gabriella.”

  As if I needed my father’s approval or permission.

  I was done with all of it, and I planned to make myself clear. It had been stupid of me to even agree to see Malik just to make my mother happy. There was nothing I could ever do that would earn me favor in the light eyes of the man in front of me. The man who was clearly annoyed with being asked to leave his own office.

  With heavy reluctance and anger, my father finally nodded and stepped away from his desk. “Very well,” he muttered. The door to the office closed behind him as he exited.

  I was given no time to say my peace before Malik’s hand, which was still on my arm, gripped me more firmly. I turned to him and wrenched it out of his grasp.

  “Gabriella,” he said. I jerked at the warning in his tone.

  I pressed my lips together and took a step back, lifting my hand. “I will not be attending the benefit with you. I’m sorry, Malik, but you knew I was going to go with my father—”

  “Your father has decided not to attend this year,” he said, interrupting me.

  I tried to maintain a rational and calm demeanor; the men in my life hated overly emotional women. I closed my eyes and inhaled a calming breath. This was not going to go over well.

  “And while that’s most definitely news,” I said, rolling my shoulders back and lifting my chin to meet his gaze, “my plans have also changed. I’m sorry to tell you this, truly, but I only agreed to meet with you to appease my parents. I have no interest in the family business, Malik.”

  A muscle tightened in his jaw. I decided to deliver the final blow before he could speak. Might as well get all his anger out at once.

  “And I have a date.”

  “You what?” His eyebrows arched in surprise. I took little comfort in being able to shock him.

  “I recently reconnected with someone I knew when I lived here previously.”

  “You were a child then.”

  “And I’m an adult now,” I said in a clipped voice, my patience wearing thin. “And able to make my own decisions. I will not be forced into a marriage that I do not want. I will not be used or manipulated. I made that clear to my father before I returned home.”

  A slow grin spread on Malik’s face. It was calculating and calm and sent a chill down my spine.

  “What you seem to fail to understand, Gabriella, is that you are this family. You, and any children you have, any legacy you leave, will forever be tied to the empire your father, and his father before him, built. It will be a very perilous choice if you try to separate yourself from it.”

  “Are you threatening me?”

  “No. I’m pointing out the wisdom in knowing who you are and who you belong to.”

  My eyes widened and my blood chilled further. “And you’re implying that I am someone’s to own?”

  “Bad choice of words,” he said, dismissing my question with a wave of his hand. “But you have to understand that your father has many enemies. His stepping down will not be taken lightly. He has chosen me to protect you, and it wouldn’t be a sign of your intelligence to turn your back on it.”

  I swallowed and looked away. I also couldn’t help the sneer that lifted one side of my lips. Taking a few deep breaths, I paused to think for a few moments before responding.

  “I will not marry you,” I told Malik when I had calmed down.

  A small hint of amusement eased the harshness in his features. “You have made that clear. But you must also understand that when I am in charge of the Detroit family, it will be my job and my prerogative to help keep you safe—from any and all threats.”

  I heard the slight edge of darkness in his tone and chose to ignore it.

  “I really must go.” I stepped away and toward the door.

  “I would like you to consider something,” Malik said when my hand wrapped around the door handle.

  “What’s that?”

  “I understand you and Jimmy are not close. And I cannot fathom the sudden defiance of your own legacy.”

  I arched a brow and waited for him to continue. He didn’t need to fathom anything, and I was done arguing with this man. Tyson was waiting for me and nothing had ever sounded better than a beer and his arms around me in his small home. It had more warmth than anything I had ever lived in simply because he would be there with me.

  “I would still like you to attend the benefit with me.”

  I scoffed and he lifted a hand to silence me. “It would make your father happy and he’s under enough stress. Between your mother’s illness and the business, he’s had enough to handle. There are stirrings in Chicago and Boston, families who have wanted to take control from him for years are moving in. They’ve discovered that your mother is sick, and they believe your father is growing weak. They’re getting more aggressive and tensions are mounting, Gabriella. Now is not the time to upset him.”

  No one had ever spoken so blatantly to me about anything to do with the business. Still, I opened my mouth to refuse, but that niggling part of me in the back of mind reminded me of family loyalty.

  “You’re manipulating me by using my mother,” I stated, daring him to argue. He didn’t. He simply shrugged and slid his hands into the front pockets of his pants.

  “You understand that this is out of obligation and not for pleasure,” I told him, feeling myself cave.

  “I understand.” He smiled. It felt like he was teasing me. I had no doubt that he was currently thinking of ways to change my mind, but he wouldn’t. There was nothing he could do that would make me want to marry into this underground empire forever.

  “Then I will go with you on Saturday.”

  Victory sparkled in his eyes. “I will pick you up at six.”

  I nodded, feeling sick to my stomach at the thought. There was no way this could go well, but at least I had a few days to prepare myself for whatever he intended to do. “Until then. Good night, Malik.”

  “Good night, Gabriella.”

  I left my father’s office, thankful that he wasn’t loitering outside, listening to the entire conversation. Then I grabbed my purse from the kitchen, saddened that the room was empty and Clarissa was nowhere to be found. As I headed upstairs to kiss my mother good night, I wished that either of the women I loved and adored could wrap their arms around me and hold me.

  Because I feared I had just made an incredibly huge mistake.

  —

  By the time I pulled into Tyson’s driveway, my eyes were struggling to stay open. It was almost eleven o
’clock and I was wiped out.

  Between a long day at work, finding an apartment, the meeting with my father and Malik, and a stop at my hotel for a change of clothes for tomorrow morning, I desperately wanted to climb into the closest bed I could find and fall asleep immediately.

  Hopefully, the bed I’d be falling asleep in would contain Tyson as well.

  It was that thought that kept me from canceling when I walked into my hotel room—the bed calling my name, enticing me to lie down for just a moment.

  With an exhausted grunt, I reached around and grabbed my overnight bag from the back seat and forced my feet to carry me toward Tyson’s door. It opened as soon as I reached the front step and I couldn’t hide my smile. He’d been waiting for me. A jolt of something pleasurable hit my chest and as he stepped out and reached for my bag, that pleasurable jolt traveled farther south.

  When he lifted his eyes and our gazes met, that jolt turned into a full body tingle.

  “Hey.”

  He scanned my face and frowned. “You look tired.”

  I sighed. “I’ve had a really crappy evening.”

  My bag hit the floor with a thump. The door closed behind me, and then Tyson’s hand was on my neck, sliding around to the back. I sank into his hold immediately, my head collapsing against his chest.

  “Want to talk about it?”

  I shook my head back and forth. “Drink first.”

  His lips brushed against my hair on the top of my head and he pulled me toward him, my chest hitting his. My hands immediately went to his waist and then around to his back. “Beer?”

  “Please.”

  A low chuckle from his chest vibrated against my skin. “We’re going to have to get out of the entryway, then.”

  I forced myself to pull back. It was a miraculous feat considering I really wanted that bed, and Tyson in it with me. Just having his arms around me, and the fact that the first thing he asked me was if I wanted to talk about it, made me want him more than I already did.

  He really cared. I hadn’t had much of that in my life.

  My shoulders slumped at the thought and I finally pushed away from Tyson, slowly lifting my eyes to meet his.