A warm smile spreads on his face. “Thank you for saving my little girl.”
I feel myself blushing. It feels totally amazing to be a real life action hero.
A big grin flashes on Zoey’s face as she casts her eyes down. “He was wearing his lucky cufflinks.”
Lucky indeed. On my next heartbeat, Zoey’s delicious lips are on mine. I deepen the kiss with my tongue, cherishing the taste of her. The scent of her. The feel of her. And every bit of her in my arms.
Gucci’s barking breaks us apart. While a beaming Pete excuses himself to join the myriad of cops who have arrived on the scene, Gucci’s persistent barking grows louder. Zoey ruffles my hair and laughs. “I think he’s jealous.”
“The Gooch is going to have to learn to live with the two of us.”
Zoey holds me in her twinkling big brown eyes. “Brandon Taylor, what exactly do you mean?”
“Well, with Katrina likely going to serve some prison time, this little rascal’s all mine now. I hope you’re okay with that.”
“Mr. Taylor, what else are you trying to tell me?”
“There’s a wedding in progress at The Four Seasons. If I recall, you promised you’d be there for me.”
“I’m sorry. Does showing up a little late count?”
“No excuses. Would you like to attend the rest of it with me?”
Her eyes grow wide as my words sink in. I can feel her heart rapidly beating against mine. Her kissable mouth drops open. There’s no need to tell her that I was never going to say yes to Katrina. After my confrontation with Scott last night, I decided to spurn her on national TV. The consequences didn’t matter to me. What mattered was marrying the right girl. Like my wise, beautiful mentor Bella said: To act with my heart…and land my dream. A stammer cuts into my thoughts.
“B-Brandon, are you asking me to marry you?”
“Yeah. That’s what I’m trying to do. Well…?”
“Is this how Kurt’s going to propose to Mel?”
I roll my eyes; she’s killing me. “I don’t know. I haven’t written the episode yet.”
She laughs. “I think it would work out perfectly.”
“Is that a yes?”
She cradles my head in her hands. Another passionate, all-consuming kiss is the only answer I need.
Zoey
Brandon borrows Pops’s car. I must say I totally enjoy seeing Mr. Lamborghini behind the wheel of his beat up Chevy. The truth is Brandon looks good in any car. I can’t take my eyes off him as today’s insane events whirl around in my head. Brandon once said he’d kill for me and he did. At last Donatelli is dead. It’s hard to believe. And it’s even harder to believe we’re getting married. I should pinch myself, but if this is a dream, I never want it to end.
“Brandon, can we make a stop in Beverly Hills before we head over to The Four Seasons?”
He turns to look at me and his violet eyes burn a hole right through me. A dazzling smile curls on his lips. “Only if we make it quick. Hold on.”
On my next breath, we’re racing up Doheny toward Wilshire Boulevard, the police siren blasting.
I’ve always put down Pop’s old Chevy, but now know it has its benefits.
My real life action hero is in seventh heaven. “Man, this is more fun than being Kurt Kussler. Do you think your father will let me borrow his car after we’re married? It’s the bomb!”
“Maybe,” I say. “Everything’s negotiable.” I wink at him. “And who knows, it could be a wedding present.”
My husband-to-be shoots me a hopeful, loving look.
“Well hello, dear. So nice to see you again,” says Beatrice. To my shock and relief, the Tiffany saleswoman who I met several months ago is still here. Her voice is a little frosty. I don’t blame her. I never came back for the ring. She must think I’m just a looker. Or a bullshitter.
“Let me know if there’s anything I can help you with.”
I glance down at the display case and my heart sinks. While there are dozens of dazzling diamond rings inside it, the magnificent amethyst and diamond ring I coveted is not among them.
The pencil-thin saleswoman starts locking up the cases. “Just so you know, we’ll be closing in fifteen minutes.”
My muscles tense. I don’t have much time.
Beatrice’s throaty voice drifts into my ears. “Did you come back for your ring?”
“Yes,” I say glumly. “My fiancé’s back in town and I wanted to show it to him.”
“Oh. Is he here?” A thick layer of doubt colors her tone.
I nod. “Yes. He’ll be here any minute. He’s just parking the car.”
I study the other rings, hoping to find one that’ll call out my name. Not one does.
Beatrice’s gasp diverts my attention. I gaze up at her shocked face. Her mouth is agape. Finally, her lips move.
“Good heavens!”
A nuzzle on the back of my neck sends me spinning. Brandon!
He smacks a kiss on my lips and then says, “I valeted the car. The valet is taking care of Gucci.”
I smile and then turn to face Beatrice, who’s still in a state of shock.
“This is my fiancé,” I say brightly.
She clasps a bony hand to her still wide-open mouth. “Oh my God, you’re marrying Brandon Taylor?”
“Yup.”
“In just a few minutes,” chimes in Brandon with a Cheshire grin. He straightens the spaghetti straps of my ivory dress, the one Chaz gave me for my birthday. Little did I know it would be my wedding gown. Nor did I ever think my birthday wish would come true.
“Wait right here,” Beatrice says eagerly. Her demeanor and tone have totally changed. My eyes stay on her as she scurries to the back of the store.
“Do you like any of these?” asks Brandon, gazing down at the display case. “You can have anyone you want.”
I sigh. “You know what. I don’t need a ring. I just need you.”
He draws me into his arms. His hardness pressing against my abdomen only magnifies the feelings this incredible man has for me. His piercing violet eyes claim mine.
“The same, baby. Let’s just pick out some wedding bands and head over to The Four Seasons.”
He tilts up my chin with a thumb and his lips crash onto my mine. Our tongues twirl and swirl in another passionate embrace. I can’t get enough of him. And I still can’t believe this fairy tale has come true.
“I have something you may like.” Beatrice’s voice breaks us away. Flushed, I meet her gaze. Her steel-gray eyes are twinkling. She sets a small Tiffany-blue box on the glass counter and slowly takes off the lid.
I clap my hand to my mouth and gasp. Oh my God! It’s my ring! The breathtaking amethyst and diamond one I fell in love with! The ring whose stone reminded me of Brandon’s violet eyes and fit me perfectly.
Beatrice smiles at me warmly. “It’s a one of a kind so I kept it in our safe. I had a hunch you might come back for it one day.”
With tears in my eyes, I hug her. “I don’t know how to thank you.”
“I do,” says Brandon, enjoying my emotional fireworks. “Let’s do this right.”
My misty eyes never stray from him as he removes the ring from the box and gets down on one knee. He clasps my left hand.
“I love you, Zoey Hart, with all my heart, from here to the moon and back. Marry me.”
The entire staff of Tiffany’s has gathered around us, but I’m almost oblivious. Rivulets of tears stream down my cheeks as the man I will cherish forever slips the magnificent ring onto my ring finger. My heart is exploding with love, and my body is overflowing with joy. I hear Mama. She’s here somewhere, watching over me. Singing “Moon River.” Her beautiful nightingale voice fills my head while two beautiful violet eyes fill my sight.
“Yes! Yes! A thousand times yes!”
Oohs, aahs, and applause break out all around us. Another all-consuming scorching kiss drowns out the crowd.
Oh, Brandon Taylor. My dream maker…Wherever you’re going,
I’m going your way.
Brandon
When we return to The Four Seasons, the place is swarming with news crews, reporters, and cops. I have no clue if the production team from Katrina’s show is still here, but for sure, our guests have abandoned the hotel. Well, all except Blake Burns and his wife Jennifer, who are mingling with the Conquest Broadcasting news crew. I quickly find out from one of the officers that Scott’s still alive and has been transported to Cedars. In the corner of my eye, I see Katrina’s mother Enid talking to one of the reporters. She catches sight of me as well as Zoey, who’s holding Gucci (minus the tutu) by his leash. Leaving the reporter hanging, she stomps up to me.
“Where the hell have you been?”
I contain my laughter. “I’ve been busy saving lives.”
Steam blows out of her nostrils. I can virtually see it. “The only life you should be saving is my daughter’s. She’s been arrested!”
“She deserves to be.” In the car ride over here, Zoey filled me in on everything she discovered on Katrina’s cell phone. The fucking psycho bitch. Not only did she run me over, but she also was after my money and screwing around with Scott—something I always suspected. There are still a lot of missing pieces and unanswered questions, including motives and Scott’s relationship with Donatelli. But I’m sure they’ll unfold in the weeks to come.
Enid’s taut face scrunches as much as it can. “The bail is set at one hundred thousand dollars. You need to take care of it immediately!”
I’ve had enough of Enid and Katrina spending my money.
Rage flickers in Enid’s unblinking eyes. “What the hell are you waiting for? Chop chop!”
And I’ve had it with all her chop chops.
“I’m afraid I can’t.”
Enid grows hysterical, her voice shrill. “What do you mean? You’re her fiancé. You’re supposed to be marrying her!”
I stare at her squarely. “Enid, I had no intention of marrying Katrina.”
“What?” says Zoey before Enid can.
I take her into my arms and kiss the top of her head. “Baby, it was always going to be you.”
Zoey gazes up at me with puppy eyes that make me melt.
Enid’s face turns as dark as her heart. “What the hell to you mean?”
“I mean I was never in love with her. Meet my new fiancée.”
“Hi,” squeaks Zoey.
Enid glares at her, aghast, and then flares her eyes at me. “What! You’re ditching my daughter for this chubby p-peon?”
A growl sounds in my ear and the next thing I hear is a loud shriek from Enid. She gazes down and shrieks again.
“Fucking dog! Somebody help me! Get this monster off me!”
Zoey is laughing; so am I. Gucci has attacked Enid. Bitten her twice in the ankle. Zoey scoops him up in her arms before he does it again.
She tuts. “Bad doggie.”
Good doggie! We exchange an amused look as Enid limps off, mentioning something about a lawsuit and shouting for someone to give her first-aid. She needs a whole lot more than a Band-Aid to fix the hole in her warped mind.
Setting Gucci back down, Zoey takes in the frenetic scene. A little overwhelmed, she knits her brows. “Brandon, maybe we should have eloped.”
I flip up her chin with a thumb. “Nah. We’re going to do it right here and the whole world is going to watch. Maybe not on Katrina’s reality series, but at least on tonight’s news. By the time we say, “I do,” it’ll be all over YouTube, Instagram, and TMZ.
“Really?”
“Really.” She’s so fucking adorable she’s giving me a hard-on. If you ask me, no better way to get to married. And the sooner we get married the better. It’s a good thing my custom-made tux pants have extra crotch room.
Catching sight of me, hordes of reporters rush up to me. I’m bombarded with blinding flash bulbs and burning questions. To most of them, I respond: “No comment.”
A young Latino reporter from Conquest Broadcasting breaks out of the pack and shoves her mike in my face.
“So, Brandon, will you still be getting married tonight?”
Smiling, I squeeze Zoey’s hand. “That’s the plan.”
“To Katrina Moore?”
“A change of plans. Meet my new fiancée, Zoey Hart.”
A gazillion flashes go off. Zoey smiles brightly for the cameras and waves. Meet America’s newest “It Girl.”
Before any reporter can besiege her, I say, “We just need to find someone who can marry us.” The drunken preacher from Central Casting is long gone; he must work by the hour and be at the bar.
The reporter’s face lights up. “I can do that. I’m a newly ordained minister from the Universal Church of Life.”
The Church of Life. No other ministry better suits Zoey and me. Let’s get this show rolling. Lights! Camera! Action!
Five minutes later, we’re standing in the flowered gazebo under the starry sky. Gucci is with us, Zoey still holding him by his leash. Blake and Jen have agreed to be our impromptu best man and maid of honor. And miraculously, Pete and his wife Jo have gotten here just in the nick of time along with Zoey’s brother Jeffrey and his fiancé Chaz. Myriad camera crews and reporters surround us. Facing my soon-to-be wife, I slide a platinum band on her ring finger until it lines up perfectly with her amethyst ring and recite my vows. They’re almost identical to those I exchanged with my late wife Alisha on Kurt Kussler. But the words mean something so much deeper now. I’m not acting the lines. I’m saying them for real. They come from the bottom of my heart.
“Zoey Hart, from this day on…You. Are. Mine. I promise to cherish you and protect you for as long as I live. For richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, in good times and bad times until death do us part.”
With her free hand, Zoey slips a matching band on my ring finger. Her chocolate eyes are glistening with tears. She repeats some of my words and then adds a few of her own. “Brandon, my love, I will be yours for all of eternity. You’ll always own my heart even after I part.”
The words of our officiant pronouncing us man and wife drift into my ears as I take my beautiful wife into my arms and kiss her madly. She moans into my mouth. Amidst the clicking cameras, I can hear Auntie Jo sniffling.
“Mr. Taylor, what’s our next activity?” Zoey asks softly after we finally break the kiss.
I trace her luscious lips with a finger. “Mrs. Taylor, one you’ll never have to use your imagination for again.” Nor will I.
A short fifteen minutes later, we’re steps away from the sunken tub in the non-cancelable penthouse suite the bitch put on my credit card, about to finish what we started in Cannes. And start so much more.
Zoey
The crazy events of today are a swirling blur. I still can’t believe I just married the man every woman on the planet wishes she could have. The man of my dreams. There’s happy. And there’s beyond happy. I’m in the latter category. The luckiest girl in the world.
My lips stay latched on Brandon’s as he carries me into the penthouse suite of The Four Seasons. Tightening my grip around his strong shoulders, I open my eyes a sliver to take in my surroundings. Wow! It’s like a palace in the sky. All sleek shiny marble, muted silks and velvets, and touches of gilt. With elegant furnishings that include a baby grand piano complete with a bucket of champagne and wraparound windows offering a spectacular panoramic view of sparkling LA.
He transports me down a long hallway until we reach a palatial bedroom. An enormous four-poster bed with a mile-high duvet and a mountain of fluffy pillows dominates the room. On the opposite wall, a built-in fireplace casts a warm glow from the fire inside. On the mantle and every surface, scented candles burn and mingle with the intoxicating scent of fresh flowers.
He sets me down on my feet by the bed and then captures my lips with another passionate kiss. I melt into him.
“I wanted to finish what we started in Cannes, but I can’t wait,” he breathes into my mouth. Planting his lush lips back on mine, he u
ndoes the back zipper of my dress and then slides the spaghetti straps off my arms. Chaz’s creamy chiffon creation puddles at my feet, allowing me to step out of it. I’m left with just my ivory lace undergarments and my heels. Cupping my shoulders, Brandon stares at me reverently and then kisses me everywhere he can.
“Oh, Zoey, you’re so fucking beautiful and tonight you’re finally all mine. All I want to do is make endless love to you.”
“Oh, Brandon! The same! I’ve missed you so much.”
“You have no idea how much I’ve missed you. Help me undress.”
On my next heated breath, I undo his bowtie and the buttons of his shirt while he unfastens his lucky cufflinks and puts them securely in a pocket of his tux pants. I smile at the memory of dressing him in his tux on the night of the Golden Globes and broaden the dreamy smile as I stand now before him and help him out of his formal wear. Feverishly, I unclasp his trousers and zip down his fly, freeing his enormous cock. In a few swift moves, he kicks off his shoes, steps out of the pants, and tosses his jacket to the floor. As he unhooks my bra and removes it, I soak in his beautiful body. He’s the epitome of manly perfection with his taut flesh, pronounced muscles, and defined contours. The glow of the fire and candlelight makes him even more sublime. Surreal. A sex god. My god. I run my fingers along his strong jawline just to make sure he’s real. He gropes my breasts in his soft hands and bends to kiss them. A low rumble sounds in his throat as my body responds with a rush of hot tingles. Reality sets in. There’s nothing that stands between the two of us except a veil of love.
“I can’t wait another minute, my beautiful wife.”
My breath hitches. He called me his wife. I have to get used to this new four-letter word. Wife. The word’s beauty resonates in my ears.
Lifting me back in his arms, he sets me down on the massive bed and then crawls onto it. His magnificent cock is erect and ready. His smoldering eyes stay riveted on me and then he bends over, his mouth blazing a trail of kisses from my quivering lips to my inner thighs. My sex is flooding like a river and need pours from my core like a waterfall. I moan from the exquisite pleasure he’s giving me.
Unforgettable 3 (Hollywood Love Story #3) Page 13
