by Sylvia Fox
“I have some things to attend to in the kitchen.” Joshua smiles broadly. “Teagan? Why don’t you pour your parents something to drink and take them out by the pool? I’ll join you in a second once the steaks are ready for the grill.”
My dad’s internal warning system is going off like crazy. I can see it all over his face. It is a little weird that his boss would be giving me orders like that, especially since we’ve supposedly never met. Just like it’s a little weird that I’m the one answering the door to invite them into his boss’ house. But, to my dad’s credit, he smiles through it, lets me pour him a drink, and follows me right out to have a seat at the patio furniture under the pergola.
My mom comments on the view and Dad nods his approval. We stumble through small talk until I manage to find a topic for mom to gossip about and then Dad and I tune out—nodding and making sounds of shock and dismay—until Joshua joins us with a huge tray of steak and grilling utensils. He lifts the lid on the grill and lays the meat on the grate. They sizzle and hiss over the flames. Once he has everything situated, he takes a seat beside me and rests a hand on my knee.
And that, my friends, is that.
My dad has had just about everything he could possibly take. “Just what the hell do you think you’re doing?” he asks, staring at Joshua like he’s a creeper with a moletstache hanging out at the playground.
Joshua sits back, surprised, then stares down at his hand on my knee, recognition dawning across his face. I expect him to yank his hand off my thigh but he doesn’t. He smiles and gives my leg a squeeze.
My dad lurches to his feet. “With all due respect, Mr. Kincaid, get your damn hands off my daughter.”
Here we go. The shit is officially about to hit the fan.
“Robert…” My mom reaches out to take Dad’s hand.
He shakes it away. “Let me handle this, Barbara.” He turns to Joshua, waiting for an explanation.
“Robert, please. Have a seat.” Joshua gestures towards Dad’s chair, smiling warmly.
“I will do no such thing. Not until you get your hand off my daughter.”
The next few seconds happen in some kind of slow motion awfulness that I will never forget for as long as I live. Joshua does remove his hand from my thigh but then goes right ahead and wraps it around my shoulder. He opens his mouth to explain and gets as far as Mr. and Mrs. Flowers, Teagan and I… before my dad flies into a Neanderthal-like rage like nothing I’ve ever seen from him before. He comes roaring around the table as Joshua leaps to his feet, his chair clattering to the concrete. My mom screams and I just sit there with my mouth hanging open as my dad grabs the father of my unborn child by the shirt and, through some horrible combination of struggle and chaos, manages to toss him right into the pool.
“Dad!” I lurch to my feet, screaming, as my father turns to me.
“Get your things, Teagan. We’re leaving.”
Joshua breaks the surface of the water, sputtering, as my mom flails her arms in that way of hers and goes off like a chicken on a mission, clucking and chattering as she paces back and forth. Dad grabs my arm and I yank it away.
“Dad. Stop.”
He reaches for my wrist again. “He has no right to touch you like that and you don’t have to take it just because he’s my boss. My job isn’t worth your dignity.”
“Dad.” I stare at my father and take a long breath. “He has every right to touch me.”
My dad blinks in surprise, trying—and failing—to formulate his thoughts. Mom freezes mid-cluck, her arms extended out to the side and stares at me like I just admitted to treason.
“I love him.” I gesture towards Joshua as he climbs out of the pool, water pouring from his clothes. “It’s a long story but I love him and I’m pregnant with his baby so he has every right to touch me and I’d appreciate it if you would apologize to the man of my dreams for throwing him in the pool.”
Joshua arrives beside me, dripping wet and smiling sheepishly as my parents stare at us in confused silence. Joshua digs in his pocket, trying to get his hand past the wet fabric.
“Mr. Flowers,” he begins just as the steaks on the grill go up in flames.
Chapter Sixteen
Joshua
The situation has devolved from chaos to anarchy. As if being thrown into my own damn pool by an enraged employee wasn’t bad enough, now I’m working together with said deranged employee to wheel my flaming grill filled with expensive steak into my pool before it sets my brand-new pergola ablaze.
And to think I was just about to propose.
Once the grill is a smoking mess in my now grease-covered pool, the four of us stand at the edge of the water listening to my wet clothing drip on the patio. We watch the grill bob once and then sink, a few bubbles burbling to the surface before it settles at the bottom of the pool.
Teagan starts laughing first. Then her mom joins in. Her dad stares at me for a long time before he follows suit. “I just shoved my boss into the pool for knocking up my daughter.” He puts his hands on his knees and lets out a braying laugh. “Come on now, there has to be a camera crew around here somewhere.” He looks up expectantly, hope chasing fear across his tear-stained face. “Right?”
I shake my head. “Unfortunately, no. No camera crew.”
Robert Flowers blinks up at me and then straightens, his arms falling to his side. His mouth opens and then closes as he tries on several different things to say and discards them all.
“Mr. and Mrs. Flowers,” I say, trying again to begin the speech I started before my grill went up in flames. “Teagan and I are in love. I wanted to tell you it’s a long story, make excuses for how we came to be, but in reality, it’s a very short story. I saw her. I fell in love with her. And I never, ever want to be without her. I asked you here tonight to ask for your daughter’s hand in marriage, and not just because she’s carrying my child. I would want this woman by my side even if she wasn’t pregnant. She is my heart and soul and I will follow her to the ends of the Earth. Although I’d much prefer just moving her in here with me so I could take care of her and our baby for the rest of our lives.”
Teagan gapes at me, a smile stretching across her face as tears fill her sparkling eyes. “Really?” she mouths.
I take her hand. “Yes, really.”
“Teagan?” Mrs. Flowers steps forward. “Is this true? How did this happen?”
She smiles up at me. “It’s true. And how did it happen? I think I just came this way. I came into this world destined to love him. We spent one night together. One night. And that was all I needed to know that he was unlike anyone else I’ve ever met in the whole world. We’ve spent the last two months talking to each other for hours every day and the more I learn about him the more I love him. I wasn’t even scared when I found out I was pregnant. I was ecstatic, like I finally found my path.”
I smile down at this little woman who stole my heart. When she looks up at me, I run a thumb across her cheek. “Ditto,” I say, and she laughs.
I turn to her parents. “This is not how I intended tonight to go. I wanted to explain to you the relationship I’ve started with your daughter. Tell you I love her. That I will always take care of her. And then I wanted to ask you for her hand in marriage.”
Beside me, Teagan gasps.
“Mr. Flowers. Robert. This is a lot. I know. But I want to marry Teagan. Do we have your consent?”
Barbara stares at Teagan for a long moment before she turns to her husband who meets her gaze for another long moment. A slow smile stretches across their faces in unison.
“I don’t know why you’re asking us.” Barbara shakes her head. “We raised our girl to think for herself and know what she wants. It’s not up to us whether she marries you or not. That’s up to her, right Robert?” Barbara turns to her silent, scowling husband and then elbows him in the side. “I said, right Robert?”
Mr. Flowers nods. “That’s right,” he says, even though I’m not quite convinced he believes he’s saying it. “Te
agan is a grown woman with a good head on her shoulders. If she wants to marry you, then it’s up to her to say yes, not me.”
I turn to Teagan, get down on one knee, and finally fish the ring out of my sopping wet pocket. “Teagan Flowers, will you do me the honor of being my wife? The mother of my children? The apple of my eye? My own personal unicorn, to have and to hold for the rest of my life?” I open my hand to show her the ring and Teagan drops to her knees beside me.
“Yes, you wonderful man. The moment I met you I knew that you were all I was ever going to want in this world.”
I slide the ring onto her finger and it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in all my life.
Epilogue
Teagan
“I told you to drink the man’s expensive scotch and have an amazing one-night stand, not marry him and have his babies.” Lola meets my eyes through the mirror, a huge smile on her face as she snuggles little Christian close.
I adjust a sleeping Edward in my left arm and lower the mascara wand I have clutched in my right hand. “Yeah, well, you also told me to let loose and follow my heart and soul.” I stare down at the little bundle of joy in my arms. “And it looks like that means marrying him and having his babies.” Edward stretches in his sleep and it’s all I can do not to melt into a little pile of happiness right here and now.
Lola perches on the seat next to me, looking at my sons. “I always wondered how the parents of twins could tell them apart, but now that these little guys are here, I don’t have to wonder anymore. They’re only identical to the people who don’t know them.”
Mom hustles into the dressing room, her hair perfectly coiffed, her corsage pinned in the perfect spot on her dress, her arms flapping in that silly way of hers. “Are you telling me you’re still messing with your makeup? Teagan Louise. You’ve made me wait long enough for this wedding. Do not make me wait any longer.”
Lola meets my eyes. “Louise?” she whispers, her eyes wide and laughter playing across her face.
I level a finger at her. “You forget you ever heard that or you will lose your baby privileges faster than you can say the name out loud. There’s a reason you had to wait seventeen years to find out that little tidbit of info.”
Lola puts on a confused face. “What name? I don’t remember hearing any names?”
I laugh as my mother huffs and puffs around the room. “The wedding is on target to start in fifteen minutes. The guests are out there. The flowers are perfect. The music is perfect.” She looks at me and her face softens. “You look perfect.” She takes Chrisitan out of Lola’s arms. “He’s perfect.” My mom smiles and then looks at me with tear-filled eyes. “This isn’t the way I saw it happening for you, but now that I see how wonderful you and Joshua are together, how wonderful these sweet babies are, I wouldn’t have it any other way. It’s not my version of perfect, but it’s your version of perfect.”
I nod. “It’s the happy ending I never thought to hope for.”
Mom sweeps Edward out of my embrace and cradles her twin grandsons in her arms. “These two are coming down the aisle with me,” she says. “This is their wedding, too. The day they’re mommy and daddy become man and wife.”
I had planned on handing the boys off to my grandma in the chapel, but I know better than to argue with my mom. Besides, it’s a touching gesture. This wedding is as much about them as it is about me and Joshua.
I stand. “You ready for this?” I ask my mom and my best friend.
They wipe tears from their eyes and babble happily before leading me towards the chapel.
The music sounds. My mom walks down the aisle and the guests coo in appreciation of my sons cradled in her arms Lola follows. And then, finally, I step through the doors and see Joshua waiting for me at the front of the church, looking like a dream come true in his tuxedo.
The rest of the day passes in a blur. I cry when I say my vows and Joshua cries when he slips the ring on my finger. But when he kisses me? Time slows to a stop and it’s just him and me, just like it’s going to be for the rest of our lives.
Take Me, Boss
Chapter One
Nate
Three years. Three fascinating, sexually frustrated years. That’s how long I’ve worked with the enigmatic Domino Thorne and not acted on my impulse to make her mine. She obliterates my thoughts every time she walks into a room. I want to unravel her. Chip away at her practiced exterior of strength and confidence and expose the soft femininity hiding underneath. I want her open to me. Her thighs. Her body. Her mind. I want her writhing and shivering in front of me while her deepest secrets are out on display.
But a torrid office affair is the last thing I need. Not when the eyes of the world are on me and my company.
“Mr. Wellington?” Dom’s low voice interrupts my thoughts—warm and rich, like bourbon and chocolate drizzled in caramel and bound in silk.
I stand near the floor to ceiling windows in my conference room, hands in my pockets, attention on the street below rather than the room full of people waiting for me to speak. Snow filters down from gray skies. Pedestrians march down the sidewalks, chins tucked into their coat collars and scarves. Yellow cabs clog the street. A mess of people in a hurry to be late. Smartphones in hands. Importance on their faces.
When I started my company—a startup I called Technocrat—I was young and optimistic. Determined to run my business as a collaboration of great minds doing great things. I envisioned us sitting at a huge round table throwing ideas around with wild eyes and frantic hair. Hands gesturing. People pacing. Spewing brilliance like sunshine from the horizon at dawn.
Reality proved different from fantasy, as it tends to do. As the years progressed, I realized people prefer to be told what to do—which works for me because I prefer to be the one giving orders. I gave up my roundtable idea in favor of a weekly Monday Meeting of Minds, inviting only the people whose quick wit and intellect intrigue me the most. Some people have waited a decade for an invitation. Dom got hers after her first month with the company, at the age of twenty-four.
“Let’s get started.” I give my focus to the people waiting for my attention. Most of them are fidgeting, uncomfortable in the quiet. Not Dom. She meets my gaze head on. Chin lifted, eyes focused. Impenetrable.
“Give it to me straight,” I say with a smile. “I want the good, the bad, and all the possible ways to get better.” I pull out my chair and sit. “Notice I didn’t ask to hear about the ugly because we all know there’s no room for that here.” People chuckle and shuffle papers. “It’s a new year. Let’s dominate.”
The meeting passes in a slew of data and numbers and ideas ranging from impressive to ridiculous. Throughout it all, I never once lose awareness of Dom. Even when she’s not speaking, I keep tabs on what she’s doing, noticing tiny shifts in her posture or attentiveness. She’s in everything I do now. A portion of my thoughts are always allocated to her. My desire for her has blossomed into an obsession, a war between my need to have her and my need to avoid scandal, but she’s the only thing I can remember wanting and not taking.
“Mr. Wellington.” Dom squares her shoulders and lifts her chin. “I have a thought.” She licks her lips and her gaze drifts to my mouth.
What I would do with my mouth on that body…
“Hit me with it.” I lean back in my seat and tuck my hands behind my head. The leather creaks beneath my weight.
Dom waits until all eyes are on her. “Devices are our future.” She smiles, showing a neat row of white teeth. “Phones. Tablets.” Her pale blue eyes light up and she sits even straighter. “Technocrat has dominated the online space for years now, but there’s no growth opportunity for us there anymore. But.” She holds up a finger. “If we take the elements you’ve implemented in your browser and search engine—anonymity, control, and simplicity—into handheld devices? You’ve demonstrated there’s a market there. People are tired of sacrificing their privacy and personal data to big corporations. Just imagine how they would
react to an entire line of devices built around the same principles.” She flares her hands, a question on her face, and waits for the information to sink in.
Conversation buzzes around the table, some of it positive, some of it uncertain, but all of it surprised.
“Devices,” I say. The table quiets as I purse my lips and steeple my fingers, mulling the thought over in my head. “Interesting.”
It’s more than interesting. I had the idea myself six months ago and haven’t been able to get the thought out of my head since. It’s fucking brilliant.
The corner of Dom’s lips curl into a smile. “It’s the next logical step. And one we can make without too much effort.” Her gaze sharpens. She leans back, letting her hands drape over the arms of her chair.
She looks at me like she can see through me to all the wicked thoughts in my head. Thoughts of her lips parting, her body quivering. My mouth at her neck, my teeth on her skin. The woman exudes sensuality and wears confidence like a perfume. Even leaning back in her chair, her posture is straight and confident, her head delicately balanced over her shoulders. Her dress is perfectly appropriate, the neckline meeting her collarbones and covering her shoulders, but she wears it like lingerie.
The meeting ends and she stands, towering over everyone but me in her four-inch heels. She gathers her things as people meander out of the conference room. Taking her time. Stalling until we’re the only ones in the room.
“Mr. Wellington.” She stands close enough that I’m aware of the space between us as if it has a life of its own.
“Ms. Thorne.”
“My idea is good. It is our next logical step.” She smiles again, confidence and composure oozing from every pore. “I want to spearhead the project.”
I smile as I fight images of that blonde hair tumbling free from her tight updo. Of it spread across my pillow as her lips part around a moan and her back arches while I bury myself in her. We’d come undone together. Bodies raging like the sea against the rocks.
