by Penny Wylder
He closes the door behind me, and we stare at one another for a long pause, before I smile, faintly. “I saw your email.”
“You and everyone else in the building.” He winces and runs a hand through his hair. “So okay. Let me have it. Because everyone else so far has been telling me they think that was a terrible move. Or freaking out and asking my advice on what to do.”
I laugh. “It wasn’t a terrible move,” I say. “It is going to, understandably, freak people out. But think how much worse they’d be freaking out if you didn’t give them a heads-up, and just sprang all this change on them with no warning the way your father wanted to?”
“Exactly.” He sighs and straightens, squaring his shoulders. “Well. Like I said. It’s the first step toward being open.”
“Speaking of which.” I tuck a strand of my hair behind my ear. His gaze follows it, and I smile a little, glad to know I can still distract him so easily. “There’s something I should have shared with you already, Bronson. And your message today inspired me to do that.”
“You mean the reason you feel you need to leave this company no matter how hard I try to improve it?” He leans back against his desk and crosses his arms, but he’s smiling. “Try me.”
So I do. I tell him everything, starting from the beginning. I tell him about how his stories about big city life enthralled me; about how I came to LA seeking a future that didn’t exist for me back home in Atlanta. I wanted to make more money, save up for my future, and I wanted more career opportunities than I had at home. But instead, what I found was a grind that I hated. The cost of living was so expensive that no matter how hard I tried, I felt like I could never save up much more than the bare minimum. And my job was so demanding, but not teaching me anything I wanted to learn, and not giving me the kind of experience I wanted. It was just a lot of busywork and acting like a secretary for higher-ups who didn’t care about me or my career or what my goals were.
But then came the real problems. Mom’s health. Her being in and out of the hospital. Her doctors telling her that she’d need more regular care; preferably someone living in the same house as her, in case she had any emergencies again.
I explain how I need to go home now. I already wanted to, before all this—I hated LA, it wasn’t anything like I thought it would be. But with everything going on with my mother, now I have a deadline. I need to be home by the time her cousin needs to leave in a couple of weeks.
Which is why I need to be fired. I need my severance pay in order to afford to be able to move home. Between shipping my possessions and my car back, and my flights, and buying myself out of my lease…
I wind up shaking my head, and suddenly, I feel warm arms encircling me, pulling me tight. Bronson holds me against his muscular chest, and I rest my forehead against him, savoring the feel of him holding me. His hand gently rubs up and down my back, along my spine, making me shiver and relax at the same time somehow.
“Why didn’t you tell me any of this?” he murmurs against my hair, and kisses the top of my head.
I sigh, and feel his arms tighten around me. “I didn’t want to burden you,” I whisper. “It’s my life, my problems. Not yours…”
“Daisy.” He reaches down to tuck a finger under my chin, and tilts my head back until I’m gazing up into those deep, steely gray eyes of his. “How could you think this would burden me? Your struggles are my struggles, Daisy, and anything you’re worried about or dealing with, I want to be able to help you with.”
“But why?” I burst out before I can stop myself.
He laughs. Then he shakes his head slightly, smiling as though he can’t quite believe me. “Because I love you, dummy,” he says, as though this ought to be obvious.
My heart soars so high it feels like it’s catching in my throat. “You love me?” I whisper, eyes going wide.
“This is the part where you tell me you love me too,” he points out, laughing.
I burst out laughing too, and he hugs me again, until I have my face pressed to his chest giggling. Finally I pull away and sober up, reaching up to brush his hair back from his forehead. “I love you too, Bronson.”
“I was getting worried there,” he tells me, but he’s smirking. Then he leans in, and I tip my head back to meet him, and our lips collide.
When we part, he tucks a stray strand of my hair behind my ear and trails a fingertip down my cheek, watching me like I’m the most precious thing in the world. It’s a look I can never get enough of.
“So you need to leave,” he says.
I press my lips together, wincing at the reminder. “Do we need to talk about that right now? I was enjoying the moment.”
He kisses me again. “What I mean to ask is… Do you want some company?”
I laugh and roll my eyes. “What, in Georgia?”
“What did I just say?” He leans down to kiss the edge of my jaw, inching toward my lips. “Your problems are mine, Daisy. But I’d like to make your solutions mine too.”
“What are you talking about?” I rest my arms on his shoulders, which gives me enough leverage to lean up and kiss the corner of his mouth.
“I’m saying, let me come with you.”
I pull back, my eyes widening. “But your job.”
“Screw my job.” He cups my cheek. Tips my face toward his. “Dad’s never going to approve of me. No matter what I do, no matter how hard I try to prove myself to him, he’ll always tell me I’m not doing enough. That I’m not the exact carbon copy of him he wants me to be. So let’s go.”
I yank free from his arms. “I can’t ask you to give up your inheritance.”
“I want to. I don’t want to live like this anymore. Catering to him, being owned and controlled by him at every step. I have some money saved up, from what I’ve made working here so far. And my apartment is in my name. So I sell it, and we use that money to fly back to Georgia together and get a house. It’ll be more than enough money to set us up; we can even get a place big enough for your mom to live with us.”
“You’d do that?” I stare at him, my jaw going slack.
“Of course. Daisy, I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. Nobody’s ever made me understand so much about myself; realize so much about how to be a better person and how to be myself, instead of just whoever other people want me to be.” He steps toward me. “And, you know. I miss the south. Our life there was great. But, admittedly, maybe I’m a little bit selfish, too.” He smirks. “Because I know what I want. You, Daisy. Any way I can get you.”
I stare at him for a long moment, unsure how to respond. Unsure how to even parse what’s happening. But deep down, I know this is what I want too. If it’s crazy, well, who cares? Sometimes crazy is what you need.
“Okay,” I finally whisper. Then I laugh, unable to believe what’s happening, what I’m saying. “Okay, Bronson. Let’s do this.”
He reaches out to catch my hand, and I’ve never felt more sure that I’m right where I’m meant to be. With Bronson by my side.
Epilogue
“Daisy?” I kick off my shoes by the front door and squint at the darkened entryway. “Marcy?”
Daisy’s mother, Marcy, has been working on me, trying to convince me to stop calling her Mrs. Rider for months. I’ve finally caved in—though I haven’t quite graduated to calling her “mom” yet. That feels too presumptuous.
Maybe after we get married…
I smile a little wider at the reminder. The memory is still fresh in my mind. Two weeks ago, I picked Daisy up from work and drove her out to the lake we paddle-boated across that magical first month we spent together. Right there on the dock, beside a picnic spread and a bottle of champagne I picked out for the occasion, I went down on one knee and asked her to be mine for the rest of our lives.
I was confident she’d say yes, but still, my nerves felt frazzled the whole time I was doing it. And when she finally broke into that sideways grin of hers, the one I love so much, and told me she would, I thought I could fu
cking conquer the world right then.
Even now, two weeks later, I’m still high off the look on her face, the knowledge that this gorgeous, sexy, smart-as-hell woman is going to be mine. Forever.
“Up here,” Daisy’s voice drifts down the staircase.
We were able to afford a pretty nice place out here. Turns out, the real estate market out in the suburbs of Atlanta gives you a hell of a lot more bang for your buck than downtown LA does. We bought a huge four bedroom, three-story house, that looks like it popped right out of a Victorian dollhouse catalog, complete with a huge yard, and wisteria creeping along the bricks out front, and decorating the broad porch out back. We like to eat dinner out there at night, sipping wine while we gaze out across the trees in our backyard, the patch of sun where Daisy’s mother has started her own little garden, and the pond in the distant corner that makes the property feel magical.
Between the garden and the pond is the best feature of the house. A guest cottage, with its own private bathroom and kitchenette, and even a homey living room with its own fireplace. A perfect home for Daisy’s mom.
Granted, she winds up eating with us more often than not, and since she’s a delight to have around, we enjoy the evening company. But it’s nice for her to have her own space, a spot where she can still feel like she’s living independently, in spite of everything.
Her health has stabilized somewhat. It helps to have Daisy around to run errands for her and keep after her about taking her medications and keeping her doctors’ appointments. She’s still on the mend, and the doctors think she’ll need constant care for the rest of her life, probably. But having Daisy so close to her has made her life so much easier and happier. And getting to know her has shown me where Daisy gets her sharp sense of humor as well as her kind heart.
As for Daisy, she landed her dream job here in Atlanta, one with an easy commute from home that allows her to continue learning and building on what she loves doing—helping offices problem-solve. She’s in marketing now, after taking a promotion up from the sales job where she began. Every night she comes home with another exciting story about the campaigns she’s working on, the progress she’s making helping the company.
I couldn’t be prouder of her.
Me, I’m working on building up an investment portfolio. Turns out, there’s a lot of interesting opportunities to be had at the spot where gambling intersects with financial investments. I’m learning to put my old Vegas skills to a much more productive use—figuring out the stock market and turning the little nest egg I left LA with into the kind of money that will be able to sustain us for the future.
Us, and the family we plan to have one day, of course. Because there’s a reason we wanted this nice big house with its huge yard and its multiple bedrooms and plenty of bathrooms. Daisy always dreamed of having a big family, and her dreams have a way of becoming infectious. I can’t help picturing us with kids underfoot, imagining Daisy barefoot and in the kitchen, shooting me that exasperated but somehow still sexy smile of hers.
It’s the future I want. The life I want. A life I could never have imagined just a little over a year and a half ago. Somehow, in just the one month she and I first spent together, Daisy changed my whole outlook on the world.
Now I get to spend the rest of my life savoring it.
I reach the top of the steps and glance around, a little furrow appearing on my brow in confusion. The hall lights are dark, the only light coming from the master bedroom that Daisy and I have claimed for ourselves. “Daisy?” I ask again, stepping toward it.
“In here,” she calls, and there’s a suppressed emotion in her voice that I can’t quite place.
I reach the door and gently push it open.
Inside, I see Daisy reclining on our bed, dressed in nothing but a sheer lingerie and high heels. She never wears them to work anymore, but we both love it when she breaks them out in the bedroom on occasion.
My eyebrows rise, and I start to smile, unable to tear my eyes from the luscious curve of her breasts, cupped and pushed up into perfect handfuls under that dress. And from there, I trace the line of her body down to her narrow waist, her broad hips, cocked to one side as she grins at me, a devious look that does just as much as the sight of her right now to send all the blood in my body rushing south.
Fuck. I’d never known that a woman could make me hard in seconds flat, with little more than a smirk, until I met Daisy.
“Mom’s holed up for the night on a Pride and Prejudice miniseries binge,” Daisy says, still grinning, as she sits up just far enough for her breasts to spill toward me like an invitation. My cock is practically throbbing against the seam of my jeans as I take a step toward the bed. “So we’ve got the house all to ourselves for the night.”
“What’s the occasion, naughty girl?” I ask when I reach the edge of the bed, reaching down to catch her ankles and slowly part them. She rolls onto her back, obedient, and grins up at me as I raise her leg and kiss the soft skin above her ankle, starting to kneel on the bed between her legs as I kiss my way higher, up to her calf, the inside of her knee.
“Well, I thought it would be a fitting way to celebrate,” she says, her eyelids fluttering half-shut as my mouth reaches the inside of her thighs, and I nip lightly at the skin there.
“What are we celebrating?” I ask, my mouth moving against her skin as I speak.
“We’re celebrating the outcome of this,” she replies.
I lift my head to raise an eyebrow at her, confused. “Of what?”
She gestures to herself, and brushes both hands down her sides. “Of all the hot sex we’ve been having.”
I tilt my head to one side, still not fully understanding. Not until I see what she’s holding in her hand. A slim little stick, white in color, facing away from me. Only then do my eyes widen, as I start to grasp what she means. “Are you saying…?”
She bites her lip. Nods, and now I can see the joy, which she’s been trying to hide from me, clearly bubbling up to the surface. Now it shines through, unmistakable, as she turns the stick around to face me.
My eyes widen as I take in the little pink plus sign on the end of it. I reach for Daisy, catch her waist and draw her up off the bed and into my arms. “Oh my god, Daisy.”
“You’re going to be a father, Bronson,” she whispers into my neck, kissing me.
I tip her head back with one finger beneath her chin, and gaze into those blue eyes I love so much. “You’re going to be a mother. And a fucking fantastic one.” I lean down to kiss her, gently at first, then harder as her arms circle my neck to bury in my hair.
And me? I’m going to be the father I always wished I had. I’m not going to let our child feel controlled or pressured the way I was. I’m going to support them no matter who they turn out to be, even if they’re different from me. Because I learned that much from my parents. I learned how to be the parent I’d always wanted.
I lean down to kiss my way along Daisy’s jawline toward her ear, nipping lightly at her skin there. “We made a baby,” I whisper against her neck.
Her arms tighten around me. “How crazy is that?”
I lean back to grin at her. “Not crazy at all, Daisy. It’s perfect. Just like you.” My gaze travels down her body and my smile widens. “You, and this outfit you’re wearing.”
“Are you sure it’s not too naughty for a mother?” She smirks and twists a little on the bed, displaying it.
I catch the edge of her lingerie. “Mm, you’re right. Entirely too dirty for a mother-to-be. We’re going to have to get you out of it instead.” With that, I tug it up her body, and she raises her arms to let me pull it off and toss it unceremoniously on the ground beside the bed. Then I pull her toward me again, kissing my way down to her pert nipples, already starting to harden as I swirl my tongue around them, one after the other, my hand working at her other breast as my lips tease the first. Before long she arches her back up into me, and runs both hands through my hair, her nails as sharp as she is sof
t.
I shift down, kissing between her breasts, then along the flat plane of her stomach toward her mound. I pause along the way to kiss her belly, one hand stroking the gentle curve there with wonder. “Hello in there,” I murmur, and she laughs, rolling her eyes. But she reaches down to stroke her stomach too, her touch slow, wondering.
“I still can’t believe we’re here,” she murmurs. “That this is our life. The life I’ve always dreamt of.”
“And now we’ve created a new life to join us.” I grin and kiss her belly again. Then kiss my way lower, slowly. “Do you know how hot that is?”
“What, that I’m carrying your baby?” She smiles at me.
I kiss the top of her mound. “And that I get to call you mine now. Forever.”
She laughs softly. But it transitions into a soft sigh of pleasure as I kiss my way lower, tracing my tongue along each of her pussy lips, one side after the other. Then I draw back and reach up to trail a finger along the length of her slit, collecting her juices on the tip of my finger.
“Clearly you find this as hot as I do.” I raise an eyebrow at her and slip my finger into my mouth to lick it clean, savoring the taste of her. Salty and sweet and utterly intoxicating.
I need more.
I part her legs and kneel off the edge of the bed, between them. At the same time, I use two fingers to spread her lips wide, and smile up at her. “Have I ever told you what a gorgeous goddamn pussy you have, Ms. Rider?”
“You might have mentioned it once or twice,” she replies, one eyebrow lifted as she smirks.
“Have I also mentioned how sweet you taste?” I add, and lean in to lick my tongue along the same path my finger just took, trailing the entire length of her slit and finishing by circling the tip of my tongue around her clit, already red and swollen with want. Then I flatten my tongue like a blade and drag it over her, again and again, lapping at her clit in slow, steady strokes.
