Four Simple Words: A Badass and the Billionaires Contemporary Romance (The Sisters Quartet Book 4)

by Mary J. Williams

  "Seems she doesn't see herself as clearly as she thinks."

  "Maybe the problem is me. Do I just see what I want to see?" The thought wasn't comforting.

  "Answer one question, son. Why do you love her?"

  "Love! Who said anything about—?"

  Bert's calm gaze and raised eyebrows brought Liam up short. He could lie to himself, but his father? Never. He took a breath and gathered his thoughts. He picked his words with care and meant every one.

  "All the traveling I've done? The things I've seen, the people I've met? Destry is the best time I've ever had. Not even close."

  "And?"

  Liam smiled. "I think—know—she's the best time I'll ever have."

  Bert beamed like the proud father he was.

  "Sounds like love to me."

  "Guess so." He took another breath, a little ragged and a bit painful. "Just one problem."

  "Only one?" Bert patted his knee. "Nothing's so bad you can't find a solution."

  "I love her—with all my heart. Trouble is, I don't think she feels the same." Liam's expression turned bleak. "Not even close."

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  ~~~~

  "WELCOME HOME, MS. Benedict."

  Destry let her bag drop to the foyer floor. She was tired, achy, and generally out of sorts. Even walking through the doors of her beloved home didn't give her the usual sense of calm and well-being.

  She had no reason to feel the way she did and wasn't in the mood to remind Blanche for the umpteenth time to call her by her first name. Instead, she nodded and plastered what she hoped passed for a pleasant smile on her mouth.

  "Thank you, Blanche. Good to be here." The words were a reminder to close her eyes, breathe, and feel. The ritual didn't cure her case of the blahs, but she felt a little better.

  "Any news I should know about?"

  Destry didn't expect an answer. As always, she stayed in touch with her sisters while out of town, and they kept her up to date on anything important. Still, ten days was a long time where Benedict family drama was concerned. Never hurt to get another perspective.

  "Your father stopped by to see you."

  Destry frowned. Andi hadn't mentioned Miller.

  "When?"

  "Yesterday. Several times. He…"

  Blanche looked nervous—nothing new. Destry knew the effect her father could have on people. Good or bad, Miller could be a handful. Whatever the FBI wanted him for this time must have come to a head if he stopped by the house more than once in a twenty-four-hour period. He never called when in real trouble.

  "Go on, Blanche. Nothing you say about my father will come as a surprise."

  "He was most persistent." The maid chewed on her bottom lip as a worried frown formed between her brows. "He yelled at your sister."

  "Which one?"

  "Ms. Andi. He swore—terrible words I can't repeat." Blanche blushed. "Said she hid you from him. Tried to keep you from your own flesh and blood."

  Great. Destry sighed. When Miller reached his overdramatic stage, no one could reason with him.

  "If my father shows up again, don't engage with him. Put him in the sitting room and come for me immediately. And Blanche? Before you do anything else today, remove the bar cart. Under no circumstance are you to give him a drink. Understand?"

  Blanche nodded and headed to do as requested. Destry inherited her low tolerance for alcohol from Miller. The difference was, while she lost her inhibitions after one too many, her father became loud, unreasonable, and verbally abusive. He'd never raised a hand to her. Yet, the things he said while under the influence put a strain on their already shaky relationship.

  "Blanche?"

  "Yes, Ms. Benedict?" Blanche asked as she wheeled the bar car from the sitting room.

  "Is my sister home? Andi?"

  "In her office."

  Destry didn't take time to do more than drop her backpack off in her room. She tapped on Andi's door and entered without waiting for an answer. Her sister looked up from her drawing board, a smile lighting her face.

  "You're home!"

  Andi's arms went around her and Destry sank into the hug. Better, she thought, much better.

  "What's wrong?"

  "Five seconds in the door and you decide something's wrong?" Destry let out an unconvincing laugh.

  Suddenly interested in the rainbow of silk stacked on the sofa, Destry pulled away. She kept her face averted as she ran her fingers over the luxurious material.

  "I could tell during your last few phone calls. But you didn't say, and there wasn't a lot I could do from three thousand miles away." Andi leaned against her desk, a shadow of concern in her green eyes. "When you decided to stay a few extra days with Liam's parents, I was happy."

  "I was happy. Bert and Minnie are wonderful. The entire family is great. They insisted we stay. I figured you could get by without me for a little longer."

  "We survived," Andi smiled.

  "Would have been nice if you mentioned that my father is on the rampage."

  "You spoke to Blanche." Her sister tapped her nails on the desk. "Rampage is too strong of a word. Miller wanted to see you and wasn't pleased to find you weren't at his beck and call."

  "I'm not at anyone's beck and call."

  "A fact your father conveniently forgets from time to time. I handled him."

  "You should have told me." Destry walked to the window. The view of the garden was lovely, but her muddled thoughts made her blind to anything else.

  "To what purpose? You were due back today. I saw no reason to ruin your time with Liam."

  "You shouldn't have to deal with my crap."

  "We deal with each other's crap. You, me, Calder, and Bryce. We're a team, remember?"

  They were. The best team ever, one she wasn't required to try out for and never had to worry they would kick her off for any reason. Still…

  "Sometimes I feel as though my crap piles up higher than anyone else's."

  "Get over yourself." Andi shook her head. "We have the same high-maintenance mother. As for our fathers, the drama varies. Miller isn't any worse than the other three. Just bad in a unique way."

  Andi, as usual, was right. Their fathers were apples and oranges. Different backgrounds and personalities, equal in the bad parent department.

  "Enough about Miller. Anything new on the Billie front?" Destry took the seat opposite her sister's desk. "Did Trey send the list of Hunter's holdings?"

  "Yes, on Trey. He emailed the information this morning." Andi took a piece of paper from the top drawer. When Destry reached for the list, she hesitated. "I haven't changed my vote. Breaking into Hunter's properties is too risky. We'll find another way."

  "Yet, we haven't. Months of that man in our lives and the specter of what he could do to mess up our baby brother. The fact we have to lock our doors and watch over our shoulders—in our own home." Destry rubbed her eyes. "I'm tired, Andi. Tired of not knowing. And, after what Trey told us about his mother, I'm worried about Billie. How is she, by the way?"

  "Unusually quiet. Most days, she stays in her room. When she does come out, she has little to complain about."

  "Billie?" Destry sat forward. "Has she seen her doctor lately?"

  "I insisted she let me go with her—and she didn't argue."

  Now, Destry was worried. Billie was adamant. Her daughters weren't welcome at her OB/GYN visits. Early in the pregnancy, Hunter accompanied her—or so their mother claimed. Lately, neither seemed as thrilled as when they first announced the blessed event.

  "What did Dr. Fox say?"

  "Nothing to me. Billie made me stay in the waiting room. She swears everything is fine. All we can do is take her word."

  "Do you think she was as hard to deal with during her first three pregnancies?"

  "Probably," Andi rolled her eyes. "She popped us out in such quick succession, even though I'm the oldest, I was blessedly too young to remember."
/>
  Destry took a bottle of water from the mini-fridge Andi kept in the corner. She offered one to her sister.

  "No, thanks."

  As she took a drink, Destry glanced at Andi's work table. Laid out in succession were three sketches. In the corner of each was attached a small swatch of lace.

  "Beautiful." Destry felt a little wistful. "Wedding dresses for you, Calder, and Bryce."

  "Thought I should get started."

  "You and Noah set a date?" News to Destry.

  "No." Andi shook her head. "Sometime next year. We don't want the Billie and Hunter drama hanging over our heads as we say our vows. Calder and Bryce feel the same."

  Each piece of lace was handmade by an artist of the highest quality. The woman was French. She lived in Paris, off the beaten path, and though in high demand, rarely saw anyone. Andi managed to arrange a meeting, hoping she might talk the woman out of a few yards of her one of a kind treasures.

  The lady was so impressed by what she saw in a fellow lover of fashion, she not only gave Andi a gift of enough pale-yellow lace for a wedding dress, she allowed the younger woman to purchase three other colors, one for each sister.

  "I didn't know at the time when we would use the lace, but here we are."

  "Gold for you, pale rose for Calder, and silver for Bryce."

  "Don't forget yours." Andi took the material from a special lined cabinet. "Not white, not cream. An incandescent color hard to describe—just like you."

  Destry wanted to touch the lace but stopped herself. Instead, she looked at Andi's drawings. Three gowns. Deep down, she knew there would never be a fourth. She tried to think of a way to explain her feelings. She could tell her sisters anything. But they were happily in the middle of wedding plans. Had she finally found the one part of herself they wouldn't be able to understand?

  Rather than blurt out the harsh truth, Destry started with a question.

  "What would you have done if Noah didn't want to marry you?"

  "Which time?" Andi laughed. When she saw the serious expression on Destry's face, she sobered. "We love each other. Marriage was the next logical step."

  "For most people, yes." Destry chose her words carefully. "Noah loves you. No doubt. But what if he knew, deep inside, marriage wasn't for him? Would you stay with him? Or find someone who wanted the ring, who would make your relationship legal?"

  "One thing I know," Andi said after thinking hard on the subject. "I couldn't marry someone I don't love. And the man I love is Noah."

  "You'd stay with him forever? What about children?"

  "I believe I'd stay. Children are never a given under any circumstances." Andi took a seat on the sofa. She gestured for Destry to join her. "Your questions aren't about Noah, or me. They're about you and Liam."

  The time was now or never, Destry realized. She had to be firm. She had to look Andi in the eye. She had to make her sister understand she meant every word she spoke, right down to her soul.

  "I will never get married."

  The world didn't stop turning, but when Andi smiled, she knew her sister wasn't convinced.

  "Love and commitment are scary. One man for the rest of your life? Terrifying."

  Destry had come to a startling conclusion while she and Liam visited his family, at least startling for her. She wasn't afraid of love. Or commitment. She welcomed the idea of both with open arms and an open heart.

  Still, she hadn't changed her mind about one thing. Marriage was not for her.

  "Can you tell me why you like broccoli but not cauliflower? Or why the color blue appeals to you, but you aren't a big fan of orange?"

  "No," Andi shrugged, more puzzled than when they started.

  Destry imagined how silly she sounded. Marriage was not a vegetable or a color. Marriage was much more important.

  "You can't tell me why. Yet, you know without hesitation. Just as I know I won't change my mind."

  "Okay." Andi took her hand. "I believe you. And you aren't wrong, Destry. Your feelings are your own."

  "My feelings." Destry sighed. "Which brings me to Liam."

  "Do you love him?"

  "Yes."

  Tears filled Andi's eyes.

  "Oh, baby. I'm so glad. Why aren't you?"

  "If you had seen Liam with his family, you'd know why." Destry handed Andi a tissue from the nearby box. Her eyes stayed dry and focused. "Minnie and Bert are everything Billie, and our fathers, aren't. Like Ozzie and Harriett without the overlay of saccharine."

  Andi chuckled as she dabbed her cheeks.

  "Liam grew up in a happy family. The fact that some people do isn't news to you, Destry."

  "The Stantons aren't just happy. They're imperfectly perfect."

  "You like them."

  "Very much."

  Andi rubbed her hand. "Again. What's the problem?"

  "I think he might love me."

  "Aw."

  "Not aw." Destry shook her head. "Of course, I want the man I love to feel the same. Liam is… He's… I—"

  "He's Liam," Andi smiled.

  The go-to answer for all the Benedict sisters when pushed to describe the men they loved. Destry used to roll her eyes. Now, she understood exactly what they meant.

  "He'll want to get married."

  "Maybe not."

  Destry loved her sister's try at a positive attitude. Unfortunately, no amount of hope would change the facts.

  "I don't think love will be enough for him. He's the marrying type, and with the example he's seen all his life, I can't blame him."

  "Talk to him. Let Liam decide for himself. Could be he wants you more than a piece of paper." Andi pulled her in for a hug. "He'd be a fool not to."

  Destry went to her room, lay on her bed, and stared at the ceiling. She was afraid. Not that Liam would reject her, but that he wouldn't. What if he decided marriage wasn't important? Then, a few years down the road, changed his mind?

  If she grew to trust in Liam's love, depended on him to be there, only to have him rip the foundation out from under her, Destry would be crushed in a way she never thought possible before they met. She would prefer he walked away now.

  Over and over, Destry weighed her options. Whatever she decided, she had to speak to Liam, face to face. She'd figure out what to say when the time came.

  Determined to turn her thoughts to something more productive, she scanned the email Trey sent with a list of Ingo Hunter's personal residences.

  Four properties. Easy enough to handle. Two problems. First, they were all on the market, which made the timeframe tight if she wanted to search each one before a sale was made. The second obstacle was the locations of Hunter's homes. Instead of an easy drive or a quick flight as she hoped, Destry and her passport would get quite a workout.

  "Canada. Bermuda. Rio de Janeiro." Destry looked twice at the last city. "Moscow? Really?"

  The buzz of her phone interrupted her thoughts.

  "Hello?" she asked, frowning at the paper in her hand.

  "Hi."

  "Liam." Caught up in Hunter's odd choice of living locations, Destry briefly forgot to feel nervous. "Can Americans own a home in Russia?"

  "Beats me. Give me a second." She heard tapping in the background. "Legally, there are no restrictions. Thinking of moving?"

  "Hardly. According to Trey, Ingo Hunter owns residential property in Moscow. A single-family home on a street I can't pronounce."

  "Hard to imagine why anyone would want to live in Putin territory. But good luck if you want to figure Hunter's motives."

  "True." Slowly, she used a pen to circle the address. "Moscow could be problematic. I've never been. What's needed to get into Russia?

  "Paperwork. Lots and lots."

  "Naturally." Destry sighed. "I could leave Russia for last. Except…"

  "If Hunter has something to hide, it makes sense he'd pick the hardest place to access." Liam paused. "Destry?"

  "Hm?"


  "We need to talk."

  Closing her eyes, she fell backward, the bed catching her. Nothing good ever came from the words, we need to talk. They had six days left in their two-week agreement. Did Liam want to end their relationship early? Maybe he wanted an extension? Part of her didn't want to know. And yet, she couldn't not know.

  "You're right." But not tonight. Destry needed some time to decompress before she dealt with a conversation that might change her life forever. "Can you wait until tomorrow night?"

  "Sure. I'll pick you up at seven thirty."

  "Liam. I—"

  "Yes?

  "See you tomorrow night."

  Destry tossed the phone onto her nightstand as she cursed herself for being a coward. I love you. Seemed easy enough—until faced with the moment. Words matter, she reminded herself. The first time she told Liam how she felt, she wanted to look into his blue eyes and see his reaction.

  If the first time turned out to be the last time, she might not cherish the memory. But at least she wouldn't spend the rest of her life wondering if she missed out on a special moment she couldn't have back again.

  "I love you, Liam," Destry whispered to herself. She liked the sound. "Love me back. Love me enough to understand. Most of all, please don't hate me."

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  ~~~~

  "I PREFER A good, old-fashioned utility knife." Destry handed the tool to Adam. "I've yet to run into a situation my baby can't handle."

  "Nice." Adam tested the weight in his hand. "A few nicks and scrapes on the handle."

  "I acquired the little beauty when I was ten years old. A little old man, his face looked like a dried apple, in a market in Marrakesh wanted my silver earrings. I wanted his knife. We both walked away happy."

  Shaking his head, Adam laughed.

  "You've lived an interesting life. Scary as hell, but interesting."

  They sat at the kitchen counter, Calder, Adam, Bryce, Destry and four cups of coffee. The current subject came up when Adam mentioned he lost his pocket knife and couldn't decide which brand to buy as a replacement.