Hale to Pay (Arrangement Series Book 6)

by Francesca Penn

  “You really care about the she-demon, don’t you?”

  Berke is leaning against the door jamb. His frustration with everything has made him scarce over the past couple of weeks. This is the first thing he’s said to me since he’s been home. There’s no bite behind his words because he seems calmer now.

  “Yeah, I really do.” I shrug on my shirt and start buttoning it. In dark jeans, a black shirt, a black belt, and dress shoes, Berke looks ready to go. “Are you going to the bachelor party?”

  Berke rubs the beard that’s been growing since he’s been on the island, his tattoos on his forearm flex over his skin with the movement, the light picks up the glint of his rings.

  “Yes, if you still want me there.”

  I slip on my shoes and sit in my chair to tie them. “Yes,” I say when I’m done then look him in his eyes. “But do you really want to be there?”

  He bites his lip and crosses his arms. “If by that you mean am I capable of going out with you, Jagger, and our cousins without making a spectacle of myself, then yes I’ll behave and will not embarrass you.”

  Standing, I turn to face him head on, giving him my full attention. “I was never concerned about you being an embarrassment. I’ve only wanted you to act like my damn brother from time to time and not some rival in an unknown contest. Why do you hate me?”

  Berke rubs the back of his neck and pushes away from the door.

  “I don’t hate you, Wyn.” He looks away like he’s trying to gather his thoughts. “I don’t know you all that well. It’s like I don’t belong.”

  “Then you need to get to know us.”

  “I’m learning that, but I have to be around you all to do so.”

  “Why the hesitation?”

  “Do you know what it’s like to be an independent adult and get grounded by someone ten years younger than you? It’s frustrating because there’s literally nothing I can do about it. It’s embarrassing. People back home fear me yet some little woman comes and shuts me down without lifting a finger. If that’s not a nut punch I don’t know what is. Plus, I can’t go to the fucking shop without your assistance.”

  “I get that. Do you need something?”

  I don’t know what I would do if I’d been thrown in Berke or Karessa’s shoes. I, as well, have been independent for a long time and it would be unnerving to suddenly have to depend on someone I never thought I needed.

  Berke shrugs. “I’m just happy to get out of the house.” He frowns at my chuckle. “What is it?”

  “This is a mansion with a chef, basketball court, pool, tennis court, media room, bowling alley, a putting green, and an arcade. You’re hardly in prison.”

  He grins but he’s still not back to his full capacity. “Doesn’t change having to ask for rides and money to buy something as simple as a fucking brew.”

  “I know it’s not ideal, but do you really think I’d tease you or gloat?”

  “I suppose not, it’s still…”

  I grab my wallet from the dresser and take out one-thousand dollars.

  “Don’t do anything crazy and it’ll keep you fairly independent.”

  “Thanks.” He still looks at me while he puts the money in his pocket. “My tux was delivered if that’s still something you want.”

  It’s almost surreal to have Berke suggesting such a thing.

  “Do you want to be my groomsman?” I ask for clarity.

  “Yes, I’d like that.”

  “Is this the surprise relative section?”

  Dallas rolls his eyes at Berke's joke when Berke sits next to him. “Everyone has always known who the fuck you are, Berke.”

  Berke raises a surprised eyebrow as he sips on his beer. “Is that so? You knew who I was before they found out you were a Hale?”

  Dallas nods at his question. “Yes, your dad had a whole damn news segment ran just because you graduated.”

  I chuckle because that’s my dad. Always bragging on his sons; even the one who doesn’t talk to him.

  “Both times,” I confirm. Berke’s surprise is comical. He’d know these things if he didn’t freeze us out.

  “Fuck that. What about that dumb ass magazine spread?” Oran interjects, settling in his seat across from us and crossing his long legs on the table. “This asshole plays professional rugby for five minutes and it’s national news. Erlander Hale with this damn magazine article titled My Son the Rugby Player.” He snorts. “Meanwhile, I take over an entire family company and Elmer doesn’t give a fuck.”

  Berke stares at his beer. His thumb rubs his ring while he pretends to not listen. It’s one of the things he does when he’s uncomfortable. His dark eyebrows are furrowed as if he's trying to figure something out.

  I opt to change the subject. “How are things with Sienna?”

  “Fuck her. She’s nosy.”

  Oran and I throw our heads back chortling at Berke while Dallas looks between us confused.

  “She’s supposed to be nosy; it’s her job,” Oran ribs him.

  Berke’s smirk is brief as he studies our cousin. “Wyn knows that fancy bullshit but I’d beat your ass if I weren’t broke.”

  “So, this is really how the Hales communicate?” Dallas questions around a mouth full of fries. “Threats and insults?”

  We all offer some form of confirmation to his statement. Since Oran is the best man, he’d put together a low-key guys night at a local pub that he paid to have closed just for us. Food, beer, pool, darts, and grown men getting on each other’s nerves. We’ve invited our acquaintances, family members, and friends, but gave them a time hours after our arrival so the two sets of brothers can catch up.

  Jagger is the only exception but he’s nowhere to be found.

  Berke throws the thing I was thinking out in the room although I wouldn’t have phrased it that way. “Where’s your girlfriend, Jagger?”

  “He just sent me a text that he'll be at the wedding, but he can’t make it. He’s exhausted. Those twins are kicking their ass. I'll be in the same boat when Karessa has our boy.”

  We all stop when he throws that information out like it’s common knowledge.

  Dallas is the first to speak. “Wow, another male Hale, congratulations!” He sips his beer, but his eyes grow when he has a thought. “Damn, there’s not a girl amongst us. Hales so far have manly ass sperm.”

  So far, I’m happy that my bachelor party is going well. I’d never thought Berke would be here conversing like a normal human being. We may have an uneasy truce, but I’m looking forward to the progress in the future.

  “Berke, prepare yourself, there won’t be any tits and ass here. With Oran and Jagger being married, me on the way, and us not being sure if Dallas is a virgin...” I maintain a straight face through Oran’s laughter and Dallas’s protests. “We just didn’t see the point.”

  Oran leans forward to command our attention. “Listen up, bitches. I started a Hale tradition where the groom gives the bride a gift on their wedding day. Don’t just pick some random shit, make it meaningful.”

  “I don’t plan on getting married,” Berke announces before he takes a hearty bite of his burger, prompting me to order my own.

  “Yeah, I said the same thing now I’m trying to figure out how to ditch y’all.” Oran stares at his ring like it's magic.

  Dallas, who was refilling his beer when Oran was speaking, puts down the pitcher to stare at his brother. “That’s not very best man of you, Oran.”

  “Shut up.” There’s no malice in his words, just general grumpiness. “Besides, Berke’s punk ass would be the best man if he wasn’t an asshole.”

  “Does that mean you’re going to be my best man, brother?”

  Oran frowns. “Where the fuck are y’all’s friends?”

  “We all can’t have great love affairs like you and Jagger.”

  Oran scowls while the rest of us break into laughter. Berke for the win.

  I can’t wait until the morning to see Imala. More people showed by the time we
finished dinner. Once Bowie appeared with half-naked women and announced he was about to take the party to a whole other level, Oran and I felt it was safe to sneak out. It doesn’t matter that I was the man of honor, it was about to get wild.

  I’ve been sending her songs to express my moods. Yesterday, I sent her “Dress On” by Justin Timberlake and today was Bruno Mars’ “Gorilla.” I want her so bad, my nervous energy had me killing myself during my workouts. She’s nervous about the sex, her apprehension practically bleeds out of her pores. She wants me. It’s in the way she looks at me and touches me. The fear is something she’s built from entering new territory. But, by the time I enter new territory, she’ll be more than ready.

  I take a deep breath and knock on her door.

  “Wyn?” she questions like she can’t believe her eyes.

  She’s still dressed for her night out, a spaghetti strap white, flowing dress that stops mid-thigh and jeweled sandals. She hates heels. Imala’s sweet face has a light coat of makeup and her hair flows in waves past her shoulders.

  “They talked you into contacts, I see.”

  Imala giggles and pushes at her phantom glasses. “Karessa said glasses don’t photograph well.”

  I pull her outside in my arms. “I won’t mind.” I put a hepatica flower in her hair. “Better. Now you look like my little woodland nymph, like the books you love so much.”

  Imala’s smile is all I want right now. “Maybe my name should have been Diana like the goddess.”

  “But yours mean strong-minded and you are that. I’m quite fond of it.”

  She blushes as she glances over her shoulder. “Want to come in?”

  My desire for her burns in my eyes. I can feel it and I know she sees it. “It’s not the safest option.” As I confess, I pull her closer to me so she can feel my erection.

  “Um…” she sputters but I don’t need her to say another word.

  Placing a finger over her lips, I explain why I came. “I just wanted to see you and tell you that I cannot wait to make you Mrs. Hale.” I steal a peck before continuing. “But, I’m also aware I’ve never officially asked you since this was your idea and you proposed to me.”

  “No, I didn’t!” Her laugh makes me more eager for tomorrow.

  “That’s the version I’m telling, but for now…” I pull out a box then open it in front of her. “Will you marry me, Imala?”

  Her dark eyes become misty like she’s not already marrying me tomorrow. She runs a finger over the ring made to look like climbing vines clutching a green diamond.

  “While the transparent diamonds are considered the purest, I found you a green diamond because they are very rare and valuable just like you.”

  “Yes,” she whispers as I slide the ring on her finger. “I almost noticed you weren’t on bended knee.” She flashes a smile while she jokes.

  “Well, I’m on my best behavior tonight and if I’m on my knees it’s because I intend to do naughty things to your body.”

  Imala’s mouth falls open as she stares at me. I use the tip of my finger to press up on her chin, closing her mouth as I kiss her forehead. Backing away, I blow her a kiss.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow, Caterpillar.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Imala

  When we’d woken up, I’d opened a link Wyn texted me. “Tonight” by Enrique Iglesias blasted in the house and I quickly found it was the explicit version. I’d blushed like it was my job while Esme proclaimed it was her jam and danced around in her pajamas. The anxiety I’d felt late last night had returned full throttle. The accompanying text didn't help.

  Wyn: Make sure you wax or shave. I don't mind pussy hair, but I prefer a blank canvas. I want to lick everything then admire my art once you're covered with your cum and my spit.

  My nerves are still bad. I’ve had chamomile tea, did some yoga, played classical music, yet nothing soothed my inner turmoil. I know Wyn is a solid bet, but my life is changing drastically today in more ways than one. I’ll be someone’s wife, lose my virginity, then eventually someone’s mother.

  All these events are unpredictable and highly difficult to plan. Worse, the way my heart flutters when Wyn looks at me spells trouble. Our deal is turning into the real thing for me and the possibility of him changing or wanting to end our arrangement after I produce an heir is terrifying.

  I had a full bridal suite with my mom, sisters, and Wyn’s mom, Amélie, who’d arrived late last night. Everyone was happily chattering away as the song Wyn sent me this morning plays in a loop in my head. To avoid a panic attack, I sent everyone away to give myself a moment to think. The wedding was supposed to begin roughly ten minutes ago, but my dad is still down the hall waiting for me.

  Turning my head, I stare at the dress I’m supposed to be wearing instead of just being in the underwear that goes underneath. I hear the door open and close in a soft click. I don’t need to look up to know who entered.

  “Don’t do this to me, Caterpillar.”

  The room is so quiet, his whisper is practically a shout. I turn in my chair to face him. Wyn looks distinguished and sexy as hell in his tux. I’ve seen him in suits more than any other outfit but there’s something about seeing him dressed up in the tux he plans to wear to marry me that makes me breathless. His blue-green eyes eat up my half naked body before his eyes return to mine.

  “I’ve shown you what I can do for you, let me show you what I can do to you.”

  Damn, that sounds promising.

  He crosses the room in a few strides, cups the back of my neck, and pulls me out of my chair and against his chest. His familiar scent makes me high and his hard body obliterates my nerves. Wyn walks me backward, then grabs my waist and sits me on the vanity to bring us eye to eye. He steps between my legs as he parts them. Mesmerized I watch without a word. My skin breaks out in goosebumps as his fingers glide up my legs then hook under my knees. With an efficient tug, he pulls me flush against him, my center rubbing his body. Wyn rubs his nose along my neck.

  “We’ve waited long enough. This is happening with or without a ring because I don’t need a piece of paper to tell me you’re mine. We may as well give our people the show they came to see.”

  His teeth nipping my neck pulls a shudder out of me. Caerwyn retreats barely an inch and grabs my chin with one hand, forcing me to look him in the eyes. The other slides between us. I gasp when his thumb begins leisurely strokes of my clit, teasing me through the fabric of my underwear. The light strokes make me tingle. I want more.

  “Be a good girl, put on your dress, and meet me at the altar.”

  “Okay,” I rasp.

  With a smile, he retreats without breaking eye contact and bites the pad of his thumb that was just rubbing me.

  “I can’t wait.” He turns and goes back to the door. “I’ll send your sisters in to help you finish getting dressed.”

  Then he’s gone and has me wondering who the fuck am I about to marry.

  Caerwyn

  The moment I open the door, the entire room shifts in my direction. Hundreds of pairs of eyes are on me as I walk back to my position. I knew she was nervous and every minute past the time she was supposed to appear different people would shoot me apologetic looks if our eyes happened to connect. Eventually, I got tired of waiting and damn the pre-wedding rules, I was going to get my bride. Dallas sits in the front row with my parents and Oran and Berke are quietly conversing when I reach them.

  Oran raises an eyebrow at me, silently asking if all is good. I give him a slight nod before I approach a visibly pregnant Karessa.

  “She still needs help getting into her dress,” I whisper into her ear to keep the nosy people out of our business.

  “On it,” she whispers back then speed walks down the aisle with Esme in tow.

  I’d be embarrassed if I cared about how this all looks but I know Imala and I are solid. Mireya León, the head of Prizm - the island’s media giant, eyes glow with amusement while she awaits a mishap. She’d love to
get a taste of embarrassment for one of the founding families. Our dads denied her bid to become one of the most prominent families on the island and she’s had a vendetta ever since. They’re reasoning was simple, her family had no parts in settling the island, therefore she could not have a founder’s title.

  “Where did they go?” Oran’s phone buzzes and he looks to me for permission. He checks it once I nod. “Never mind. Trophy just texted to ask if Berke and I could come back out to redo the entry.”

  “Okay,” I agree because I don’t care if we must do it again as long as Imala brings her sexy ass out this time.

  Whispers and hushed conversations pick up once they see Oran and Berke leave the room. I don’t offer any announcements or explanations. I don’t feel like it. The music starts once more, and I have to listen to the same damn song as the people I’ve already seen make their way back up the aisle. The crowd seems to collectively hold their breath once we get to the part where we paused before. This time, instead of the music dying the doors open to reveal Dondi ushering Imala inside. People stand and whip out phones and cameras as she approaches me. If I thought seeing her in a thin camisole and underwear was a thrill, then the wedding dress is an adventure. She looks every bit of the woodland goddess I’d imagined she’d be. Plus, the cleavage that dress is giving her is everything I asked her to have in a dress. I am standing in a place of worship having the dirty thought I knew I’d have. The desire I ignited deep inside of her still glows in her eyes as she takes my hand.

  Good. My turn to build anticipation.

  We get through our vows without incident and when the time comes to kiss her, I give her the briefest of pecks. The pout she tries to hide is cute. She shouldn't have made me wait. Now, she must wait to get any real kisses from me.

  The pictures were brutal. I like to smile but damn that was torture. Berke’s asshole nature started to resurface but we were thankful when he threatened to stick the camera up the photographer's ass if he made us pose for another damn picture. The LeClaire sisters just laughed and blamed it on the grumpy Hales but we were all happy that was over.