Young Revelations (Young Series)

by Kimble, W. R.

  He shakes his head. “No.”

  “Then forget you told me. I’ll handle it myself.” Though how I’m going to handle it I have no idea. “Does Claire know?”

  Danny lets out a derisive snort. “Are you insane?” he asks. “If she knew, do you think your dad would be alive right now?”

  I smirk. “Good point,” I concede. “Let’s keep it that way.”

  With Danny’s silent agreement, we stand and rejoin our family and I manage to set aside all my concerns, old and new, and have a great last night of vacation. By the time we get back to the house some time near midnight, the children are out cold and the rest of us aren’t far behind. Samantha and I change into our pajamas silently and fall into bed together, immediately wrapping our arms around one another in a way that allows me to fall asleep quicker than I could manage without her, and much more contentedly.

  4

  When we arrive home the next evening, it’s nearly eleven o’clock and I’m exhausted. Matthew takes Tyler from the car and leads the way inside, and while I change for bed, he goes back to the car for our bags. By the time he finds me in our bedroom, I’m half-asleep despite my attempts to remain awake and possibly suggest Matthew and I take a bath before sleep. He pushes open the door and I hear him chuckle when he finds me wearing one of his t-shirts and curled up under the blankets. I listen as he changes into his own pajamas, then as he crawls in behind me, immediately molding his body to mine and peppering my neck with little kisses. I squirm backwards and my eyes shoot open when my rear comes into contact with his erection.

  “Unless you plan on doing something with that,” he says into my ear, “I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t squirm.”

  “Sorry,” I reply, biting my lip against a grin.

  He snorts a soft laugh. “No you’re not. No need to lie.” I turn my head to find him grinning down at me. “Did you have a good week?”

  Sighing contentedly, I nod against my pillow. “My week was incredible,” I answer.

  “Anything interesting happen?”

  I roll my eyes. “Well, actually yes. Someone asked me to marry him in the most amazing way and I said yes.”

  “Is that so?” I can feel his smirk against my ear. “Do you really think this man is worth your trouble?”

  “Probably not,” I whisper flippantly. “But he persuaded me with the beautiful ring he bought me.”

  I can feel Matthew’s body shaking in laughter at our exchange. “He must be a real tool if he has to buy your agreement to become his wife,” he tells me in a whisper. “Probably not the kind of guy you should want to tie yourself to.”

  “You’re probably right,” I agree, rolling onto my back. He’s propped up on an elbow above me and even in the darkness I can see his eyes sparkling in humor. “I think I’ll take my chances, though; he’s kind of cute.”

  His eyebrows shoot up. “Kind of cute?” he repeats. I bite my lip, laughing. “And here I thought you were with me for my good looks. Am I to assume you’re much less shallow than so many other women?”

  “Well, your wealth more than makes up for your average looks.” I can barely get the words out through my amusement.

  He looks mildly affronted. “I’ll keep that in mind, Miss Everett,” he says indignantly, still grinning at me. From there, our teasing evolves into kissing, though neither of us is up for much more. I’ll let him rest tonight and have my way with him in the morning before he has to leave for work. My mood declines at the thought. His eyes reflect concern at my change of tone. “What is it?”

  “Do you really have to go back to work tomorrow?” I ask.

  He smiles sadly. “Unfortunately, yes,” he answers. “I assure you, though, I’m not looking forward to it anymore than you.” Sighing, I snuggle up against his chest and his arms wrap around me. “So have you thought about what kind of wedding you want? Big? Small? Church? Justice of the Peace?” He pauses thoughtfully for a moment. “Elvis impersonator officiating?”

  I giggle against his chest and kiss him just above his heart. “Small, I think,” I tell him, my eyelids growing heavier. “How would you feel about a Christmas wedding?”

  He tenses in surprise at my words. I’ve been debating this thought since the night we got engaged again and I think it would be perfect for us. “Are you sure?” he asks, his tone a mixture of concern, skepticism, and love. “I mean, I know we want the wedding to happen before the baby comes, but…” He trails off and I don’t think even he knows where he was going to go with his argument.

  “I’m sure,” I tell him, even knowing I’m anything but. “It’ll give us time to plan, but still enough time to prepare for the baby…”

  Nodding, he presses a long kiss to my forehead. “If that’s what you want,” he whispers. “Sleep now, Sam. I love you.”

  Faintly, I return the words, but I’m fast asleep before they’re fully formed.

  ––––-o––––-

  From the moment I walked into the building, I haven’t had a second to scratch my head, much less do anything else. Between what seems to be every department head in my company needing me to sign off on new or completed projects to the constant stream of phone calls from Marcus and different government institutions needing information to confirm I’m alive, and phone conferences with my legal team to discuss the possible indictment I may be facing, I’ll be surprised if I’m able to eat lunch.

  The good mood I experienced while on vacation—mostly due to my engagement—is long gone and I think at this point I’d consider selling half my company to get it back. I would much rather be at home with Samantha planning our wedding and preparing for the arrival of our child.

  Samantha wants a Christmas wedding. That surprised the hell out of me. For as long as I’ve known her, she avoided Christmas and everything that goes along with it for the simple fact that it was her mother’s favorite holiday. Of course, if that’s what she wants, she’ll get it. Since she brought it up, I’ve had visions of us standing down near the water in our backyard surrounded by snow as we once again become husband and wife. The only downside is the brutally cold December temperatures. I suppose we could adjust for that by wearing coats…

  “Mr. Young?”

  I snap out of my thoughts when I hear my secretary’s voice through the phone on my desk. “Yes, Sandra?” I respond.

  “Sir, your father is here,” she tells me briskly. “I know he doesn’t have an appointment, but—”

  “I’m not making a damn appointment to see my own son!” my father’s far off voice says indignantly.

  “But,” Sandra goes on—I can almost see her rolling her eyes, “he’s most insistent.”

  Stifling a laugh about how alike my father and Claire are, I respond, “It’s fine, send him in.” Considering I haven’t seen my father in weeks, I’m surprised he’s only now making unscheduled visits to my work. When the door opens, I stand and smile. “Morning, Dad. This is a surprise.”

  The look on his face suggests he’s pissed about something. I inwardly groan and roll my eyes as I sit down again, knowing there is only one thing that would have caused him to leave his own job nearly an hour’s drive away to interrupt my day. He sits in the chair across the desk from me. “Are you out of your mind?” he growls with no preamble.

  My eyebrows rise. “It’s been suggested,” I quip. “Is there a specific example to which you’re referring?”

  “You’re marrying that girl again?” he demands.

  I suck in a sharp breath. Yep, this is exactly what I thought it was going to be. “If by that girl,” I begin mildly, “you’re referring to the love of my life and the mother of my children, then yes, I am marrying her again.”

  His eyes narrow at me and I know he’s picked up on the subtle piece of news I slipped in. “What do you mean, children?” he asks sharply, looking as though he hopes I misspoke.

  “Samantha and I are expecting our second child in March,” I tell him, leaning back in my chair and resting my interlocked
hands on my chest. I nod at the picture frame on my desk of the most recent ultrasound.

  Dad picks it up as though it’s going to bite him and studies it for several silent minutes. “Is that what this is about?” he asks, sounding relieved as he replaces the frame on my desk. “Jesus, Matt! You don’t have to go to such drastic measures, son! We can take care of this quickly and quietly, don’t worry about it.”

  I stare at my father for several moments trying to figure out what the hell he’s talking about, and it only takes me a second to work it out. When I do, I’m barely able to keep my temper from overflowing. “Are you really insinuating that I’m marrying Samantha because she’s pregnant?” I choke out through my disgust. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

  His relief is short-lived and now he’s giving me the same glare he gave me when I was fifteen and got in trouble at school. “You watch your tone,” he threatens. “You may be grown, but I’ll still put you in your place.” I wisely keep my mouth shut. “And why the hell else would you put yourself through that mess again? Matthew, we’ll get the girl back to her family and you never have to worry about her again. It’s true that most judges will award custody to mothers, but I’m sure we can find one that will allow you to keep Tyler.”

  Is this the fucking Twilight Zone? “Dad, Samantha isn’t going anywhere,” I practically yell at him. “We’re getting married and we’re going to raise our children together!”

  “She told you the baby is yours, didn’t she?” Dad asks severely, shaking his head in disgust. “Son, I know you think you love her and you want to believe—”

  “Stop!” I yell, smacking my hand so hard on my desk that I knock several things to the floor. “Enough with all this shit about how terrible Samantha is. Enough with the belief that she’s only after my money. Believe what you want, but I’m a grown man and I know what I want and what’s best for me. My family isn’t going anywhere!” I stand suddenly, pacing the room. “Why do you hate her so much? What has she done to you?”

  “She’s not right for you, Matthew,” he tells me emphatically.

  Here we go again… “And who is right for me, Dad?” I ask wearily. “Lucy? The woman who cheated on me and stalked me for years before you had the bright idea to hire her? I’ve told you a thousand times, there is no way I will ever be with her again. She’s a self-absorbed, two-faced, egotistical bitch who didn’t want me. And while we’re on the subject, it was really shitty of you to invite her to the party when you knew damn well Sam was going to be there.”

  “Why wouldn’t I invite her? She’s practically family!” he says exasperatedly. “As for the reason you broke up: the girl made a mistake. You can forgive her that! She’s from a good family, she’s well-known, she’s beautiful and smart. Samantha isn’t cut out for your lifestyle. Her background should be enough to prove that! Not to mention what she did when she left; you were a wreck for years. You think I want to see that happen to you again? Next time she’ll take more than half a million from you.”

  I freeze in my pacing and slowly turn to face my father whose expression suggests he said something he didn’t intend to say. “What?” I ask quietly.

  Dad sighs heavily. “I never wanted you to know this,” he says, shaking his head sadly. “Before she left you last time, she tried blackmailing you. I managed to talk her out of it and paid her half a million to just go away. She did.”

  If he wasn’t my father, I’d beat the shit out of him. “You’re lying,” I accuse. There’s no doubt in my mind of this fact and yet I still feel the frozen blood in my veins. “She’d never do that. I don’t care what you think of her; she’d never do that to me or anyone else. You never even tried to get to know her. She walked in the door and your first impression was that she wasn’t Lucy. Well, guess what? That’s part of the reason I love her. And despite everything we’ve been through, she’s who I want. Not Lucy. You really need to get over this already. If you’re not going to support me and my family like a father should, you can leave. And if I ever hear you talking about her in this manner again, I will cut all ties with you.”

  “You would choose that girl over your father?” he shouts incredulously, jumping to his feet as well.

  “Every single day,” I tell him without hesitation. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a lot of work to do.”

  ––––-o––––-

  I’d been dreading returning home. Not because of the return to reality where things aren’t as picture perfect as they seemed while we were on vacation. Not even because Matthew and Tyler would both be gone during the days at work and school. I was dreading the return home because of the boredom factor. Granted, there are a lot of preparations that need to be made for both the wedding and baby, but the more I submerse myself in the details of planning, the more overwhelmed I become and want Matthew’s input. Around lunchtime, the frustration has built and I need a break. I haven’t heard from Matthew in a couple hours, though I know he’s got his hands full catching up with his work. Two months being dead probably hasn’t done much to lower the level of his inbox.

  Rolling my eyes at myself, having never believed there would be a moment where I would find myself joking about something like that, I pull up to Bonnie’s bookshop, my eyes darting across the street to my former place of employment, East Coast Travel. Matthew refuses to discuss Frank Marone with me, but from what I’ve gathered, he’s not pleased that I was working for him; and most of that displeasure seems aimed at Leo for referring me. I’m not surprised to find the building empty and locked, though I am curious as to why Frank left town so quickly.

  Inside the bookshop, I find Bonnie at the counter talking to what seems to be about a sixteen-year-old girl who’s trying to describe a book she’s looking for. I bite my lips against laughter as I listen to her explanation—something about vampires who sparkle in sunlight—and the more I watch Bonnie’s expression of horror and disgust, the more difficult it’s becoming to keep quiet.

  “Sweetheart, I’m going to tell you this once,” Bonnie says, coming around the counter and putting an arm around the girl to lead her to a section of the store. “Stick with the classics. Tolkein. Austen. Salinger. Orwell. Twain. Hell, Rowling. Stephen King. Get off this vampire nonsense and learn about some real literature.”

  Patting the wide-eyed girl on the shoulder, Bonnie makes her way back to me, rolling her eyes. “I swear, Sam, kids these days don’t know what a real book is anymore.”

  “Not a fan of vampires, Bonnie?” I ask teasingly.

  “Those aren’t vampires,” she scoffs. “Anne Rice writes vampires and they ain’t these girly-looking sparkling ones either.”

  “I’m not disagreeing with you,” I say, chuckling.

  Bonnie sets herself on a stool behind the counter and looks over at me. “How was your vacation?” she asks knowingly.

  Rolling my eyes but smiling, I hold out my left hand, which she immediately snatches, and, adjusts her glasses while holding my hand up to the light, examining it closely. “Vacation was wonderful,” I tell her, not mentioning the drama between Matthew and me before he proposed. “I take it you knew?”

  She smirks at me. “Small town, little girl,” she tells me. “Now, give me the details. How’d he do it?”

  Over milk and pie, I give Bonnie the details on Matthew’s proposal and she is duly impressed. “If I was a few years younger,” she tells me, shaking her head sadly. “That boy wouldn’t know what hit him.”

  “Well, we’re not married yet,” I say leadingly, raising an eyebrow.

  She scoffs, patting my hand. “He’s a bit much for me now,” she replies. “Not sure I can handle his energy level…”

  I’m choosing to believe she’s referring to Matthew’s constant need to be doing something and not sitting idly around twiddling his thumbs. “I think I’d forgotten about that aspect of his personality,” I say wryly.

  “But you’re happy?” she checks.

  I actually consider the question for a few moments
. Am I happy? After three of the best years of my life, I left the only man I would ever love and settled with my best friend into a life that was mediocre at best, but one that provided stability for both me and my son. Five years later, Matthew comes blasting back into my life, bringing with him danger and excitement and the resurrection of feelings I had believed to be long gone. For two months, I thought he was gone forever, right when we were on the cusp of regaining all we’d lost. Kidnapping. Hospitalization. Waking up to find Matthew standing in my room. The shock and realization he hadn’t been in that plane. Finding out I was pregnant…

  A smile begins to very slowly grow on my face and I look up at Bonnie, biting my lip and nodding. “I’m happier than I’ve been in far too long.”

  “And I hope that happiness includes that baby in your belly,” she says leadingly.

  My eyebrows shoot up. “Small town again?” I ask.

  She chuckles. “Eager, overexcited father, actually,” she tells me. “Matt dropped in before you left for your vacation and showed me the ultrasound picture.”

  My eyebrows shoot up at this news. I had been under the impression he and I were going to tell people together. Though I should probably be annoyed that he’s changed his mind, I don’t think I have it in me. Bonnie has been a champion for us since I first met her. She helped Matthew arrange his first marriage proposal with the fireworks by preparing dinner for us. She was with me the day I went into premature labor with Tyler and got me to the hospital. In the weeks that followed, Bonnie sat with us in the NICU while our baby fought for his life. When Matthew’s building was attacked and he nearly died, she was an integral part of my support system. While Matthew went through months of very intense, very painful physical therapy to regain use of the arm he nearly lost in the bombing, she stuck by me when I needed to talk or a shoulder to cry on. She was the first person to welcome me back when Tom, Tyler, and I were relocated to Matthew’s for our safety. I’m glad she knows.