I nod. “Thank you. You can tell him the company is no longer for sale,” I add.
“We’ll see about that,” Dad says, narrowing his keen gaze on me. “My gut says this whole thing is a farce. You’re brilliant with business strategy. I’ll give you that. And I also know nothing matters more to you than money.”
“Come on,” I exhale, shaking my head. Because what else can I say?
“You will break your mother’s heart if she finds out this whole thing is a sham. I won’t bail you out when that happens.”
Shit. I hadn’t really considered the consequences of my fake marriage’s dissolution. Stormy and I will just have to come up with something smart, and make our breakup look just as believable as our nuptials.
In my mind, I start formulating a plan. Planning the demise of my marriage before I've even said my vows? On every level of my being, it feels wrong.
21
Lexi
Cannon is extra touchy feely as we leave his parent’s guesthouse.
I’m sure it’s just because his mother is energetically waving at us from the doorway. One of his hands burns the small of my back as he dutifully helps me into his passenger seat. And then his other palm heavily grazes my thigh before he shuts me inside the car. That last one sure didn’t seem like a show for Mom. And it lights my nerves on fire nonetheless.
The air crackles on the ride to my house. It can’t just be me, can it?
My skin feels hot and flushed from head to toe. I wasn’t prepared for the amount of touching tonight. That was the most physical contact between us since the night on the dancefloor. I’m completely on board with ensuring we make this relationship believable, but holy hell, is my body supposed to believe what we’re selling, too?
I need to distract myself before I throw caution to the wind and jump his bones once and for all. “Can I ask you a question?”
His eyes briefly swing to mine from behind his aviators as he navigates the car down the winding road back into town. “Since when do you need permission to go running off at the mouth?”
I roll my eyes despite my small smile at his asshole comment. “I’m serious.”
“Okay, go ahead.”
I take a deep breath. I hope I’m not overstepping here, but I need to voice the question that has been plaguing my mind for days. “Why didn’t you just take the money?”
“What do you mean?”
“When your dad offered to buy you out of Kingston Holdings, why didn’t you just take the money and run? Y'know, instead of keeping those crumbling buildings?” I shift my body in my seat so that I’m facing him more fully. I stare at his handsome profile as he focuses on the road. “You’re going to have to sink a ton of money into fixing those buildings...Don’t get me wrong: I get to keep my business, and so do my friends, so I shouldn’t complain. But as far as you’re concerned, it was a poor business decision.” I wiggle my glittering ring finger in his direction. “And you went to a lot of trouble to make this happen.”
He’s quiet for a long time, giving the road his undivided attention. I watch this faraway look shutter over his eyes. “All my life, I’ve been pursuing things that were shiny or things that just padded my bank account. Things that ultimately didn’t matter.” He exhales heavily. “For once, I want to do something that matters.”
“What do you mean?”
“My grandfather was my best friend growing up. I spent more time with Gramps at the office than I did with my own brothers. He sacrificed everything for that business. His health, his happiness, his marriage. It would kill me if those sacrifices were all in vain.”
“The business was important to him?”
A short laugh leaves Cannon’s lips. “You could say that. My grandmother left Gramps because he was so committed to his work. Losing his marriage was his wakeup call. I think that’s why he insisted that my parents run the business together and that their children run it as a family for generations to come. Gramps wanted Kingston Realties to be something that holds our family together, not something that tears us apart.”
“So you’re doing all this for him?”
His eyes meet mine as the car slows at a red light. He doesn’t answer my question, but he doesn’t have to.
Cannon reaches deep into his pocket. In his open hand, he shows me an old wrist watch. It is missing one of its black leather straps. The face of the watch is cloudy and heavily scratched. I can barely make out the numbers, but when I do, I see it’s still running. The time is spot on.
He lets me pick it up from his hand as the street light turns green. “It was Gramps's watch. I snuck it out of his desk years ago.”
“And he’s in a nursing home?” I ask, squeezing the old watch and trying to piece together the various clues I picked up over dinner tonight. It sounds like the man is ill, and that breaks my heart.
Cannon nods. “Alzheimer's," he says softly, his voice cracking. "He doesn't even remember who I am.” He quickly clears his throat, covering up the thick emotion that’s weighing down his tone.
“But you remember him. That’s what matters.” I lay my hand over his as he pulls his car into my gravel driveway. He flashes a genuine smile my way and gently takes the watch from my hand, before climbing out of the car.
I’m lost in my head, mind whirling at this avalanche of new information about what makes this enigmatic man tick. I feel like I’ve peeled back a new layer of Mr. Billions.
Whether he likes it or not, I know now that there’s a great deal more to him than his rough external shell.
He opens my door and I'm so overcome by my new discoveries that I don't even have a snarky comment for him. Instead, I meet his eyes as I rise to my feet.
I pause there, trying to read his expression. “Thank you for bringing me home,” I whisper. This whole day has flipped me on my head.
The man smirks. “Didn't seem fair for you to have to take the bus after enduring dinner with my family." I chuckle and shake my head. He tilts his head toward my front door. "I’ll walk you up.” Those strong fingers graze the small of my back again.
Lord, what is this man doing to me?
We climb up the few rickety stairs to my porch and stand toe-to-toe at my door.
His eyes snap down to my mouth. His gaze locks there. He winces.
“What the hell is wrong with your face, King?” I tip my chin up at his distraught expression.
His wince deepens. “I have a feeling I’m about to get head-butted into a coma.”
Surprised laughter bursts past my mouth.
Shit—Cannon Kingston is actually brave enough to try and kiss me?
My eyes go to his lips. They look soft and delicious.
I’m tough. I’m loyal. I’m self-sufficient. But I’m also a woman. And I’ll be honest here—in this moment, there’s nothing I want more than to kiss this man despite everything that’s at stake.
“Might be worth it.” My fingers curl in his collar and I tug him toward me.
He grins, all sexy and lopsided as he leans closer. “Yeah, it might be.”
“Or maybe not,” I taunt, shrugging a shoulder. “I guess there's only one way to find out.”
His big palm cups the back of my head, messing up my hair. He lowers his face some more. “You’re annoying.” I hear the laughter in his voice. He plunges his fingers into my hair and yanks my head back.
And then our mouths collide.
Instantly, I’m swept away by the intensity of Cannon’s hold on me. The momentum from the contact has me crashing into the door.
It's a bloodthirsty kiss. There's no build up, no soft intro, no tender prelude. It's just lust. Hard, hot and so very possessive.
My pulse pounds in places it's never pounded before. My head, my stomach, my breasts, the space between my thighs. I relinquish my good sense. My arms lock around his neck, my only hope of keeping upright on these wobbly knees.
Meanwhile, he touches me all over all over all over. He cups a hand on my hip then his groping fingers
slide down to my ass. He gives a good squeeze before his touch moves up my back, my neck and into my hair again.
And why does this feel so good? Why does it feel so right? Why does it feel like I could kiss this man for the rest of the night, until the sun is creeping up the horizon? Hell, I want to do a whole lot more than kissing.
Even as I'm drowning in the kiss, the voice of reason manages to surface for air. I can’t sleep with Cannon. If I do, there's no way I won't catch feelings for the charming bastard.
Sex would be a very bad idea. I'm already in a vulnerable position. He holds the power in this agreement of ours. It would be foolish of me to delude myself into believing for one second that we're on equal footing.
I untangle my lips from his and take a step back. My bones tremble beneath my heated skin. I pat him high on the chest. “Good night, King.” My voice is breathier than it should be. Dammit.
He takes a step back. Licks his lips. Blinks through his lust. “Good night, Stormy .”
I watch from my doorway as my fake fiancé backs down the stairs to his car sporting one hell of a boner. I'm way too turned on to gloat.
22
Cannon
I'm supposed to be having a bachelor party. I'm supposed to be in a sweaty strip club drinking dubious shots and having random women shake their over-bronzed cleavage in my face. That's what regular guys do the night before they marry the love of their life.
Regular guys are idiots.
My engagement is as phony as they come, yet the only woman I want to see naked right now is the one who'll be dressed in fields of white, walking down the aisle toward me tomorrow afternoon. I can't stop thinking about Alexia but really, what's new? My every waking hour is populated with thoughts of her.
For the past few days, it's that kiss that's been replaying in my head. The way she felt, the way she sounded, the way she tasted. I'm not sure I can wait until the altar to kiss her again, to do more than that.
"Bro, you're up." My attention snaps over my shoulder to where Walker is waiting impatiently, cue stick in hand. Eyes on me, he tips back his beer.
We're here in his quaint hunting cabin on the edge of the family farm. It's a quiet evening, just him, our dad and me. I think their role is supposed to be getting me shit-faced and watching me make terrible decisions I'll regret in the morning but so far, they've been doing a terrible job.
"Yeah." I shake my head and approach the pool table in the middle of my brother's man cave. I lean down and take a shot. It's pure shit.
With that silent judgmental stare of his, he rounds the table and effortlessly knocks three balls into the hole.
He chuckles under his breath. "Look, dude. Nobody's forcing you to be here so don't feel obligated to stay."
I stare incredulously. "Wait...you kicking me out of my lame-ass bachelor party?"
"You're obviously not into it and I've got pig stalls to clean, so..." I raise both brows in disbelief.
He shrugs, regretting nothing.
I throw a glance at my father. He's slouched in a recliner, mouth agape, fast asleep. No help there. "Some drinking buddies, you two are."
"Dad and I both know you don't want to be here drinking beer with us...She's been on your mind this whole time. No shame in it. She's yours. Go to her."
Fuck—she is mine. Or at least, I have the right to pretend that she is and that she wants to belong to me.
I give up. I can't fake this anymore. I need to see her.
I fling my stick onto the table and throw up both hands in surrender. "I'm out."
I text Alexia as I'm walking to my car on the edge of the dirt lane.
Cannon: where r u
It takes her no time to respond.
Alexia: Frosty Pitcher. Impromptu bachelorette party
She attaches a selfie. Tongue out, hair wild, baby doll eyes squinting at the camera. And she's not wearing nearly enough clothes.
I message her back immediately.
Cannon: I'm on my way
Alexia: What? Ur on ur way? Why?
I get into my car.
Cannon: just get ready, Stormy
I toss the phone onto the passenger's seat and grin. She keeps blowing up my phone—of course she does—but I ignore her damn messages, my cock aching for the minute I'll have her in my arms.
She's the first thing I see as I step into the Frosty Pitcher.
She's on a table, in a mini skirt and a tiny white tank top with the word Bride scribbled across the front in black Sharpie.
Even with half the girls in town dancing around her, Alexia is the center of the universe.
She spins around and from across the room, our eyes meet. Fuck, she's beautiful.
A grin slides across my face as I push through the pulsing crowd, moving toward her.
But a blonde, pint-sized woman steps into my path. Iris. Two other women flank her sides.
Penny gives me a nervous smile. "Hey Cannon."
“Hey Penny." I turn to the rest of the group. "How can I help you ladies?"
A chirpy-looking girl stretches a hand out to me. "I'm Jessa. Lexi's sister. I don't know if you remember me from the coffee shop the other—"
Iris slaps Jessa's hand out of the air. "Long story short. We're Lexi's friends and we love her and we just want to make sure you know that we're backing her up."
Jessa interjects. "The entire town is backing her up." When I glare, she smiles sweetly.
"And we know where you live," Penny adds and I'm only half-sure she's joking.
Iris shoots daggers at me. "So if you hurt her, we won't hesitate to hurt you back."
From across the room Lexi's eyes are on us and she's laughing and dancing and laughing and dancing and from the way she's laughing I can tell that I probably look like a deer in the headlights surrounded by this tribe of protective women.
"Look, Alexia is fully clear on exactly what she's getting into. We have a crystal clear contract." Am I nuts? Why am I giving these women details protected by my NDA? I continue to throw all business sense out the window when it comes to Stormy.
"What we're saying is, don't hurt her..." Penny begs softly. "Just...don't hurt her."
I see the genuine concern in her face. God, people really do love that girl. They're loyal to her and she deserves every bit of that devotion. And every second I spend with her, she inspires my devotion, too.
Alexia bursts through the crowd, barging in between her friends and me. "Okay, this was amusing for the first few minutes, but enough...I can hold my own and we all know it."
She hooks an arm through mine and guides me away from her protesting friends, straight into the thick of the dancefloor.
She faces me. "King why are you here?" Challenge glints in her eyes beneath the flashing strobe lights.
"To take you home."
She scoffs. "To take me home?" She plants both fists on her hips. "Who said I'm ready to go home? You don't seem to realize that I'm a grown woman, an independent wom—" I hook an arm around her waist, pull her flush against me and shut her up with a kiss. Right there in the middle of the dancefloor.
Her body melts against mine, her objections dissolve with each stroke of our tongues together. I kiss her until neither of us can breathe.
She licks her swollen lips and swallows. "On second thought, I think I'm ready to go now."
Smirking, I lace my fingers through hers as she urgently tugs me out the door.
23
Lexi
My heart is a thumping, pounding mess as Cannon's car glides up the driveway to his mansion. The landscaping is impeccable. Spotlights illuminate the facade of the majestic building.
But I'm not here to admire the architecture. There's a sculpture of a man in the driver's seat and I'm here to get his cock.
I lean across the console and taste the salty flesh of his neck. I don't know how much longer I can wait.
He's had his hand on my thigh throughout the drive, his broad, warm fingertips flirting with the edge of my skirt, d
etonating an electric storm at the apex of my thighs. I feel like I'm losing my mind with need.
We roll into a garage that's bigger than my entire house. There are already two luxury cars parked inside.
Cannon jumps out from behind the wheel and in a flash he's at my door. He's not big on chivalry but I'm about to fuck a man who clearly has no right being near my body. The least I can do is make him work for it a little…He's gonna open my door.
I wait until he does and then I step out.
His fingers slide into my hair and he kisses me. Hard and wild. Jamming me against the side of the car, running his hands up and down my body as I fist the front of his shirt to drag him closer. My head is light when we pull apart for air.
"You're sexy as fuck, woman."
I look into his caramel eyes, wondering what it is about this man that makes me so stupid with lust. “I hate to admit it but you’re pretty damn sexy yourself.”
We stumble into the house, hands all over each other. He grabs me by my belt loop and pulls me down a long marble hallway.
One second, he’s hauling me up into his arms and he's marching through the house like a caveman on a mission.
The next second, he's kicking open a heavy oak door.
Then I'm on my back, plush clean bedding haloing around me as I watch Cannon rip his sweater over his head.
I must be staring, gape-jawed as his muscle-cut torso comes into view. He smirks. "You gonna take those panties off, Stormy, or do I have to do all the work around here?"
I roll my eyes. "For somebody with a boner that borderline looks like a medical emergency, you really do waste a lot of time talking shit."
Eyes glinting, he growls. "Take. Those. Panties. Off."
Static electricity pours into my belly at the threatening tone.
Every nerve ending misfires.
Cutting my eyes at him, I do exactly as he says.
Now, he's kneeling on the carpet, spreading my legs apart. Big, hot palms voyage across my skin and his soft lips follow the path. Then, he's stroking my clit, kissing my folds, driving me wild. Cannon is putting in work but I'm the one panting hard, sweating.
Mister Billions: A Small Town Enemies-to-Lovers Fake Marriage Billionaire Romance Page 12
