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Hale to Pay (Arrangement Series Book 6)

Page 4

by Francesca Penn


  My speech dies on my lips and my brain says fuck it.

  “You’d have to marry me.”

  I cup my mouth in surprise, that is not what I meant to say. All these arranged marriages must be messing with my head. My phone pings to announce Caerwyn’s video chat request. Once the cameras connect, I find him lying in bed, hair mussed, and his naked chest is on display with his first two abs visible. The light from his lamp plays off his body and gives his eyes a dark blue hue. The arousal I felt from reading triples.

  “Care to say that to my face?”

  Gah. His voice.

  Reaching deep, I find the boldness he seems to pull out of me. I don’t want to retract what I’ve said. It may not be conventional, but I’d take a trip down that aisle if it lands me in his bed. Karessa and Esme are no virgins, but I’ve always loved the idea of losing my virginity to my husband. If Caerwyn wants me to have his child, it means he’ll get what no man has ever gotten from me. He’d have to marry me to get it.

  “The LeClaire women are not baby mommas. You want my DNA; you have to marry it.”

  “In other words, you want a lot of dick.”

  I blink at him a few times until my brain can formulate an answer.

  “How did you get all that from me stating my condition?”

  Caerwyn sucks on his bottom lip, there’s something predatory about the way he looks at me that isn’t present in public. It’s as if the nice guy is a guise for the sexually corrupt guy underneath.

  “To be my wife means we fuck anytime and any way I want.”

  I shift in bed to a new position to hide my blush.

  “Um...doesn’t that apply in most marriages?”

  “You don’t get it. I love sex. Dirty sex. It’s a steep learning curve, but I have no problem taking you from a virgin to my special freak.”

  He chuckles when my mouth falls open. I’ve never told him about my virginal status.

  “How did you know?”

  I feel him looking through me. “It’s obvious to me. The way you move is naturally sensual, but it lacks the knowledge of a man’s touch.”

  I’ll be damned.

  “Uh...and even with this, you want me to have your baby?”

  “Being a virgin doesn’t make you defective, it just means you haven’t learned any bad habits.” He moistens his lips. “I get to teach you everything I know.”

  Oh, damn.

  He’s really good at melting my mind. I circle back to the part of the conversation I can handle.

  “We’d need a prenup. None of that Oran and Karessa nonsense. What we have now is our own and anything we gain after marriage can be negotiated.”

  Caerwyn’s smile displays all his teeth. “You’re so cute. Don’t ever try to negotiate with a seasoned lawyer. Have your guy write up a proposal and I’ll review it.”

  “So, are we doing this?”

  “I said send me a proposal and I’ll review it.”

  “Uh huh.”

  The tease hangs up and leaves me with my hormones.

  I pop up in my bed, looking around as I shake off the haze of another nightmare. This time, they succeeded getting me into the van. I pull air into my nose and blow it out of my mouth.

  “They can’t get me. They can’t get me. They can’t get me,” I chant to calm my brain.

  I lie back in bed with my hand on my chest to will the erratic beating to slow down. In the days since the incident, I’ve tried to apply logic to my situation. They are incapacitated and will not be coming back. Still, every time the wind blows, my eyes fly to the windows or doorway as if they’ll come barreling through at any given moment. The shadows begin to look ominous in my overactive imagination. My lamp floods the room with light when I give into my fears.

  This isn’t going to work.

  I don’t want to run back to my parents. They’ll baby me for the unforeseeable future. I don’t want to worry my sisters, but I need to talk it out. When Caerwyn answers, his voice gravely from sleep, I blink a few times until it sinks in that I called him.

  “Um...what are you doing?” I ask, trying to sound breezy and unaware that it’s past two in the morning.

  “I’ll be there in a bit.”

  I tear up when he disconnects. I don’t like that I’m relieved; independence has always been one of my things and those assholes have me scared of my own shadow. Swiping at my tears, I walk to the door when the bell rings.

  I check the door at least three times to ensure it's him. His big frame fills the doorway as he studies my tear streaked face. His somewhat full lips pout as his eyes fill with empathy.

  Without a word he lets himself in, locks the door, and puts his keys on the hook.

  "Shhh. None of that," he whispers as he collects my tears with his thumbs. He pulls me close, still cupping my face. "It's okay to need someone."

  Caerwyn bends, wraps me up in a big bear hug that separates my feet from the ground and swaddles me in comfort. Despite his squeezing, I breathe much easier.

  He begins moving us towards my room.

  "Okay, Caterpillar. Let's go get some rest.”

  Chapter Seven

  Caerwyn

  “What’s this?” Imala asks, as she studies the paper I handed her.

  Her dark eyes fly over the paperwork and her plush mouth moves silently as she reads. I know the moment her eyes catch my amendment because they roll heavenward.

  “A sex clause in the prenup, Wyn? Really?” She grabs a nearby pen and starts marking through my terms. “I’m not giving you weekly blow-jobs for the first five years or committing to daily sex. Women have cycles, ya know.”

  I shrug as I slide an omelet on her plate. I’ve been coming over late and sneaking out early for the last month. We’ve fallen into a routine, but I refused to sneak off this morning. I’m tired of being awake on the weekends bat shit early for no reason. We never outright said we were getting married, we just started negotiating our prenup. When we agree, then we’ll have her family’s lawyer review it. I’m all aware of client privileges but her entire family is his “client,” so he’ll snitch quickly. Until then, paper and notepads for us.

  “I figured if you added a cuddle policy, I should add some bonuses as well.”

  “It’s not the same thing. I’ve never even given a blow job before—"

  “You will.”

  “My point is, I don’t know if I’ll even like doing it, and you don’t know if you’ll like my delivery.”

  I turn off the fire and face her. “Let’s go find out.”

  She watches as my hand disappears under the band of my pajama pants. She shudders when I grab my dick. Her curious eyes want to see what I’m touching but it’s not time. If she wants to lose her virginity on our wedding night, then she’ll have to wait for everything. If I give in to temptation even a little, I’m not sure if I can stop.

  Imala catches me watching her and averts her attention to her food. I love how she still blushes at my antics. Our wedding night is going to be so much fun.

  “When do I stop being your dirty little secret? I swear I’d feel used if we were fucking.”

  Her eyes grow and her lip sticks out and I know how she took it.

  “You don’t have to keep sleeping over.”

  I lean down so she can look me in the eyes.

  “First, I was just fucking with you. Second, I’m here as long as you need me. I don’t expect you to be okay in a month.”

  “Wyn? How were you there that night?” She pushes her food around on her plate to combat her emotions.

  “Business. I was following a lead on a money trail, but my contact didn’t show. I was leaving the nearby diner when I saw you. I was headed your way to mess with you then those men showed up. I’m so glad I was stood up.”

  “Me too.” She sniffles but I opt to refocus her attention.

  “Do you want to use your skills to help us out?”

  “Us?” Her curious brain is already refocusing.

  “Your grumpy b
ear and teddy bear.”

  I have no idea why she likes my ornery cousin so much.

  Hey! Ornery Oran. I snort my amusement.

  “What?” she asks with a smile tugging at her lips.

  “Nothing. Inside joke. You won’t get it. Had to be there. Where’s your laptop?”

  I follow her instructions and return to find her finished eating. Good. The last thing I need is for her to starve herself. It was a battle at first but I’m glad she’s seeing it my way.

  “What am I researching?” she asks, her eyes glow with excitement.

  I set up a VPN connection on her computer, then log into the site.

  “Before Elmer’s...untimely death, he had random sums of money equaling hundreds of thousands of dollars a month going...somewhere. We need to find the money and its purpose.” She reviews the files I’ve gathered out of my briefcase. “This is what we know so far. I need to know if I really have to get a hacker.”

  Imala stretches like she’s trying to pop her neck. “I’m on it.”

  I rub her back, but she’s focused. “Will this entertain you for a few hours?”

  “At least!” she boasts but freezes when I kiss her forehead.

  It’s the closest we’ve gotten to any intimacy outside of sleeping. I’m only behaving because she’s healing, but once I put a ring on her finger, all bets are off.

  “I have to go to Oran and your sister’s house. I’ll be back later?”

  “Yeah. Yeah,” she murmurs, as she absently waves me off, enthralled in the paper chase.

  I return later that night. Poker took longer than expected since Jagger and Oran were working on honing their technique. I’ve earned myself a few favors from the two; they were so pissed. But, with Oran and Karessa finding their groove and Ainslee glowing from her pregnancy, I can honestly say I’m very happy for both.

  I let myself into Imala’s home. She’s not in the kitchen where I left her and it’s kind of dark inside the house. I turn on the porch light but don’t bother with interior lights. The light is on in her bedroom.

  “Imala? I’m back,” I call out as to not spook her.

  Still holding the pizza, I follow the light to her room where I find her having a dance party on her bed with her headphones on. I lean on the jamb, smiling as I watch her standing on the middle of her bed dancing as if she doesn’t have a care in the world. It’s the sober version of dance at the wedding; it reminds me of the very moment I decided I had to have her. It’s bittersweet. She’s coming into her own again and won’t need me just to fall asleep. Her soft gasp and smile once she notices me confirms my musings. She’s comfortable in her own home again.

  “Hoboken, New Jersey!” she exclaims, with an excited jump that does wonderful things for her breasts in her tank top.

  “What?” I’m smiling but her jiggling tits are taking up my brain power. “Stop jumping.”

  She recognizes it as a command and immediately stops. Her face flushes and I know she’s aware of the reason I need her to be still. Imala clears her throat and goes back to business.

  “All of the trails lead to Hoboken, New Jersey. Every dime jumps around to mislead others, but all ends up in one account. That bank doesn’t belong to us and I have no legal power in the states, but I was able to pry the name of the bank out of a very reluctant contact. Now, you have to do your big boy lawyer thing.”

  I already want to kiss her, so her information makes it damn hard to deny myself, but I do.

  “Are you sure?” I ask, surprised. Imala plants her hands on her hips and stares me down. “Okay. Good job, Caterpillar!” I accept the paper from her and study the name. Never heard of it, but at least I have a lead to give Oran. “I’m sure between Oran and I, we can get some answers.”

  She plops down into a modified lotus position, then grabs her breasts to keep them from jiggling when she catches me looking.

  “You touching them makes it worse,” I confess.

  Imala drops her hands. Her nipples press forward for attention and I want to bite them.

  “I’m hungry.” Her voice is too husky for my dick’s liking.

  I place the box on the bed and back out to give myself time to cool down. This is different. I can’t just pounce. After a cold glass of water, I return with napkins for the pizza. Imala is watching television as she eats. We make it through the rest of the night without incident. It’s late, yet I’m too wired to sleep. I’m partially watching the television, leaving it running for background noise while Imala slumbers on my chest. She’s lying on her stomach with her nose buried in my shirt, her arm thrown across my waist, and her knee bent over my thigh. I absently rub circles on her back with my palm - a habit I picked up from my first night.

  She stirs and peeks up at me.

  “Wyn?” It’s amazing I know what she wants based on her tone.

  “I know, Caterpillar. You can try to sleep alone tomorrow night.”

  Chapter Eight

  Caerwyn

  It’s official. Imala and I are getting married. We’d met with her lawyer to finalize our prenup. I sent Ainslee and Jagger a spectacular baby shower gift, then sent a duplicate once Imala told me they were having twins. I avoided the baby shower because she told me she was breaking the news to her sisters, which meant Oran would have made it an unpleasant event.

  A few threatening texts later, I opted to work remotely until the big lug calmed his jets. I’m not scared of Oran, but it’s not my natural disposition to fight all the time either. I’ve learned to let his mood blow over then try again later. So, here I am, trying again two weeks later.

  I push open his massive black door to find him smiling. Oran is sporting the type of smile that displays all the damn teeth in his mouth. It’s such a rare occurrence, I snap a picture before it drops. My cousin is either really happy or in the middle of a psychotic break.

  “Hey big fella,” I say cautiously as I enter.

  Oran’s gray eyes lock onto me and the smile doesn’t drop.

  Oh, shit. We’re all in trouble.

  “Do I need to call a doctor?”

  His smile drops. “Fuck you. Don’t think I forgot about my promise to kick your ass.”

  Now, I’m the one smiling. “There he is! You had me worried.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  I recall the picture on my phone and zoom in on his face to show him, while pointing at the smile.

  “What the fuck is this, Oran?”

  I dodge the paper weight he throws at me. “I’m happy, asshole.”

  “Is that what it looks like on you? Interesting.”

  He scowls at me. “What in the hell do you want?”

  “My fiancée,” I start with Imala’s new title just to be annoying, “has given us gold, my friend.”

  “What in the hell are you trying to do with my angel?”

  I laugh at his question. Has he met himself? “Do you really want me to answer that?”

  Oran looks like he’s about to sweat. “Be happy we’re at work, asshole.”

  “She’s in good hands. Why are you so damn happy?”

  Oran turns the frame on his desk and that damn smile is back. “Karessa is pregnant.”

  “Congratulations! Now I understand why you’re so happy your face hurts. Just one thing?”

  “What?” Oran’s smile drops because he knows I’m back on my bullshit.

  “How can you get one sister pregnant and try to cockblock the other?”

  “I promised my angel I wouldn’t kick your ass, but your mouth is making me go back on my word.”

  “Always so combative. They have therapy for that. Anyway, Imala found the money. It’s not going to different places, it’s all funneling to Hoboken, New Jersey.”

  Oran freezes and I remember why the name is so familiar. “Like, where I was born?”

  “Yup.” I slide Imala’s note across to him. “Ready to go play beneficiary and lawyer and find out what the fuck is going on?”

  “Yes.” Ora
n nods. His perfectly coiffed black waves don’t move. “I’ll call security to get someone to go with us.”

  Oran

  I give my cousin shit but Wyn is the closest thing to an empath I’ve ever found. He can read the room like no other. Right now, I appreciate that trait. Especially as we park in front of a bank a few blocks from where I grew up. The memories of my mother are so thick, they almost choke me. Wyn doesn’t speak or try to joke with me. He lets me process. The driver opens the door, I take in all the changes and note the things that have stayed the same. The creamery we’d go to if we were celebrating still stands as one of the few things that remained the same. Biting back nostalgia, I snap into business mode, button my blazer and follow my security into the bank.

  Wyn flanks me. Once we get the manager; he does all the talking. The manager, an older lady with kind eyes listens to him, looks over the information, and nods her understanding.

  “And Elmer and Bethany are both deceased?” she asks, far more crestfallen than a stranger.

  Her sad brown eyes study me and something familiar about them tugs at me.

  “I’m so sorry to hear that Or Bear.”

  What the fuck? Only one person called me that.

  “Mrs. Agatha?”

  “You remember me?” Her eyes tear up.

  She was the closest thing to a grandmother I’ve ever had. She and my mom were neighbors and coworkers at the chocolate factory, they’d split shifts to take turns watching me. I hadn’t seen her since we were forced to move.

  Rising, I pull her into a hug because she’s the last link to my mother.

  “Do you know what this is about? Is the money for you?”

  “No.” She wipes her tears and takes her seat. “It’s not for me. I just hate that I have to give you the information, since it means your parents are gone.”

  She doesn’t know the first thing about my dad, but there’s no point in tarnishing her memory of a deceased person.

  “Since I manage the bank, I cannot give you much information about the account because it’s not for you.”

 

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