by Shayla Black
“Not exactly. You didn’t hear?”
I shake my head. “What?”
“Well, West retains his position as CEO, of course.”
That will make my fiancé happy. He runs the company so well, like he was born to do it. “And?”
“Those shadowy pictures that appear to be of West and Olivia Martin?” He shakes his head. “I’m the man in those images with her.”
A gasp slips from my throat. The profile looked so much like West… I might have suspected Flynn of seducing the young widow. Edward never crossed my mind. “Oh, my god.”
“The affair had been going on for a few weeks.”
So it really wasn’t West trolling for votes and shitting all over the commitment we made to each other. My head wanted to believe that all along, but my heart is so relieved for the proof.
Guilt follows. I should have trusted my husband-to-be. I should never have listened to his poisonous mother.
I never will again.
Edward sighs. “The board found out I’d been…um, doing favors, opening doors, and offering cash to some of the others in exchange for their vote. They ousted me. So, no more Quaid Enterprises. No more worrying or fixating on the company I grew up thinking I’d always have a hand in. I’m still part owner since it’s a family business. I’ll get to share in the profits, but I’m no longer allowed to dabble in anything operational. And my wife saw my salacious images with Olivia, realized I was the man in the picture, and left me last night. She isn’t coming back.”
Holy crap, he really did have a terrible day. I don’t like this man when he’s drunk, but weirdly he seems all right sober.
I place my hand over his. “I’m sorry.”
“Thanks. But actually…I’m not. Normally, yesterday would have sent me straight for a bottle. But suddenly, I was stone sober, and I realized that for the first time in forever, I had nothing to drink away. At forty-three, I have a clean slate in life. I can move on to other responsibilities and healthier relationships. For once, I can choose what makes me happy—my job, my significant other. Everything. The lifelong expectations that come with being a Quaid heir? Gone. I’m looking forward to starting over. But the first thing I wanted to do was tell you that West never touched Olivia. My nephew loves you desperately. I’m hardly an expert on love since I’m clearly going to be divorced soon, but you should marry him.”
When he stands, I smile. “I’m going to. Thanks for coming to explain. It’s really decent of you.”
He shoots me a self-deprecating grin. “I haven’t been accused of that in the last couple of decades, but I’m going to do better. There’s a great health and wellness spa in Tucson. I’m going to spend two weeks at Miraval, then I think I’ll relocate somewhere quieter. Somewhere I don’t have to be reminded of the past. I’ve always wanted to live in Montana. Who knows?”
“Do what makes you happy. Just don’t be a total stranger, huh?”
Somehow, I think West and I might miss an Edward full of peace and calm.
“You got it.” He heads for the door. “Oh, want to hear maybe the best part of the board meeting?”
Besides West getting to keep his job? “Please.”
“On my way out, I told everyone that Miriam had leaked the pictures to the press. I have to give her credit. Her ploy was brilliant, really. She released the images of Olivia and me, insisting it was West. She suspected you would take the story at face value and leave her son for good. But she also knew the board would demand proof since the seduction clearly took place on Quaid’s premises. Sure enough, they pulled up the security footage, realized it was me, and ousted me for tampering with the vote. Two birds, one stone. But it backfired. The security officer she bribed for the footage valued staying out of jail more than he valued the ten thousand Miriam gave him. Apparently, he sang like a canary. So…” His grin widens. “Miriam is no longer on the board, either. In fact, she’s forbidden from being involved in any way with Quaid again, except cashing the checks that come with being Kingston’s widow. Sometimes justice is sweet.”
A wide smile peels across my face. “Really? The cow is gone?”
“Oh, yeah. And I imagine after her latest stunt, West will have almost nothing to do with his mother again.”
Maybe. Maybe not. I’ll leave that up to him. But the good news is, she lost. And unless we let her, she can’t touch us again.
Impulsively, I hug Edward. “Thanks again. Seriously, good luck with everything.”
“You’re welcome. Be sure to live happily ever after for me, will you?”
“Absolutely. I plan to start today.”
WEST
Tension gnawing at my stomach, I glance at my watch. Five minutes until one.
At the altar, I turn to look at Flynn. “You’re sure Eryn is here?”
My brother sends me an indulgent smile. “Positive. She looks beautiful, too.”
Of course she does; that’s a given. “She’s going to walk down the aisle in five minutes?”
“Yes.”
“Chill, buddy,” Carson says beside Flynn, standing in for my other groomsman, a high school pal who sadly contracted the flu. “She’ll be here. And pretty soon, you’ll know what a roller coaster it is to be married to one of the Hope sisters. Good luck!”
Hayes laughs from the front row. “I can only imagine. This is when I’m glad to just be Echo’s friend.”
Carson and I exchange a glance. Yeah, neither of us think the platonic thing between those two makes sense…or will last much longer.
Instead, Ella’s husband drawls, “They can be hell on wheels. But they can also be the warmest, most amazing women on the planet. You got a keeper.”
“I know.” It’s one reason I’m so desperate to marry Eryn. The other reason? I’m pretty sure my life will never be complete without her.
The moments drag on until the ordained minister, whom we had to request not be dressed as Elvis, files in from the back of the building. His assistant, dressed in a skimpy, glittery uniform, skips out to check the flower arrangements, grab a camera, then retreat to a corner of the sanctuary, pressing a button to start the music along the way.
A sweeping instrumental ballad fills the air. Echo walks down the aisle in a long dress that’s a soft blend of beige and pink. The strapless gown hangs in a long sweep to her bare feet, unbroken except for an expanse of lace that begins just above her breasts and hangs nearly to her tiny waist. She’s also wearing a crown of flowers in her loosely braided hair and a smile.
I glance at Hayes. He looks unblinking and dumbstruck.
I wonder what the odds are that they’ll be “just friends” after tonight…
Then Ella files in behind Echo, wearing the same color in a simple wrap-front style that cascades down to her stylish shoes and shows off her petite curves. Carson looks both proud and sincerely in love.
When she reaches the altar, the music changes. The doors at the back of the chapel open.
And there stands Eryn, in her wedding dress with her veil swathing her narrow torso, wearing a bright smile. Confidence and happiness shine from her eyes.
I lose my breath. God, she’s so gorgeous. And about to be all mine…
The best part? One glance, and I know she has no reservations about marrying me. She’s ready for this. For us. For forever. We’re going to be happy.
The only people attending our wedding on my side of the chapel are Gen, Flynn, and a handful of loyal Quaid board members. Today, more than ever, I miss my grandfather. But he’s here with me in spirit. I’ve chosen well, followed my heart. I can feel his approval.
Now, all I have left to do is slide a ring on Eryn’s finger so we can start living what I’m sure will be an interesting, passionate, sometimes chaotic, mostly sublime life.
I lean closer to the officiant. “Can we, um…speed this up? I’m really impatient to be married to this woman.”
He slants a glance at me, brow raised. “How fast?”
“If you can finish this in
less than ten minutes, there’s an extra grand in it for you.”
“Done.”
That makes me smile. I hope Eryn doesn’t mind that I’m rushing our ceremony. I’d rather get on with all our shared tomorrows. We still have to figure out where we’ll live and what she’s going to do with her restaurant. But that’s geography. One of us will move, and that’s that. I refuse to let location be an obstacle, and given the resolve on my bride’s face, I’m pretty sure she feels the same.
It seems to take forever for Eryn to reach me. It’s probably twenty seconds; the place isn’t huge. But it’s nineteen seconds too long.
Finally, she’s beside me, and I’m pulling her close for a lingering kiss.
“We’re not to that part of the ceremony, Mr. Quaid,” the officiant murmurs.
The crowd twitters.
I can’t help but smile. “Give me a minute.”
With the music swelling in the background, I cup my bride’s shoulders. “Eryn—”
“I’m sorry,” she blurts. “I love you. I trust you. I want to spend my life with you.”
My heart swells. “I love you, too, honey. So much. You want to get married now?”
She nods, then glances at the officiant. “I do.”
“We’re not to that part of the ceremony, either,” the robed man drawls, drawing more laughter from the crowd.
“Can we…you know, hurry this along?”
I burst out laughing. This woman really is perfect for me.
“I moonlight as an auctioneer. I can make this go really fast, if you want.”
Eryn glances at me. I peer back. Wearing conspiratorial grins, we nod.
He rolls through the welcome, introduction, and “marriage is” speech in less than three minutes, sounding all the while like he’s selling someone’s valuables, but I don’t care. I don’t want to waste another moment of my life without this woman, and I don’t want to let another tick of the clock slide by without calling her my wife.
Finally, we come to the part of the ceremony where we exchange vows. Not-Elvis recites them so fast, I can barely understand what I’m supposed to repeat. I do my best, flubbing a lot, I’m sure. Eryn and I both laugh. Then she does the same, and it’s somehow even funnier, sweeter. Barely six minutes into the ceremony, we’re sliding rings on each other’s fingers and the officiant is pronouncing us man and wife.
Finally.
I kiss my bride with all the passion and longing I’ve stored up while wondering if she would ever truly be mine. Hell, if I would ever even see her again. She kisses me back with love and penitence and so much gusto, I wonder how we’re going to manage the short reception and even shorter ride to the honeymoon suite I booked. Thankfully, I’m going to surprise her with a week in Maui at the most amazing little bed-and-breakfast.
It’s the perfect way to start our married life together—naked, together, joined, and committed.
Carson clears his throat a long moment later, and we come up for air. The onlookers are now laughing outright as we clasp hands and run back down the aisle.
We grudgingly pause in the vestibule to pose for pictures taken by the chapel assistant.
The minister approaches. “This is one of the most interesting weddings I’ve ever officiated. And in this town, that’s saying something.” He sticks out his hand. “Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Quaid.”
“Thanks.” I slip him the extra bills promised and watch him disappear with a smile. Then I turn to my wife. Wow, it feels good to say that.
The reception seems to last five years. I shake the hands of all the well-wishers who came to our wedding. Eryn and I drink champagne, eat cake, and kiss as if we’re making a promise each time our lips meet.
“Do you forgive me?” my wife asks as we dance.
I caress her cheek. “Of course. I know Mom. I know how persuasive she can be and how deadly accurate her barbs are. I should have been there for you.”
“The elevator really broke down?”
“Yes. I was so pissed. And so worried about you.”
“I heard the board meeting went well.”
He grins. “Couldn’t have asked for better. The vote to keep me as CEO was almost unanimous. Best of all, Uncle Eddie and Mom are both out of my hair.”
“I’m thrilled about your mother, but Edward… He came to see me this morning. When he’s not drunk, he’s actually a good guy.”
I shrug. “I haven’t seen him sober in years, so maybe you’re right. But what’s best about yesterday’s meeting is that Flynn and Gen were voted into their vacant seats, so now I’ll never have to worry about enduring a no-confidence vote again. I’m going to run Quaid Enterprises for a long time.”
“And you’ll do a great job. I’m going to be by your side…after I finish college.”
“You’ve decided to go back to school?”
“I’d like to. Is that okay? I hear UNLV has a pretty good program for hospitality management.”
“What about Java and Jacks?”
“Believe it or not, I got a call about two hours ago from the owner of the tchotchke shop next door. They want to expand their space and asked if there was any way I’d be willing to sell out. We came to terms…so I’m not a restaurant owner anymore. But I will be again someday.”
Damn, this day could not have turned out more perfect. “I know you will, and Vegas will be a great place to open whatever you want.”
“Exactly. But first, I seriously need to tear apart that penthouse of yours and make it look less like Wayne Newton’s love shack and more like a home for us.”
“Do whatever you want, wife…as long as you’re totally available to me every night. Six p.m. to six a.m.”
“Oh, you’re not just stuck with me twelve hours a day. I’ll be here twenty-four seven. For the rest of your life.”
She leans in to kiss me, and I savor the meshing of our mouths, of our lives. The music plays on, and I hold her tight.
When the song ends, we finally come up for air. Everyone claps, and I don’t know if that’s because we danced or made out through most of the song. Who cares? I’ve got Eryn, so I’ve got the world.
“How much longer do you think we have to be polite and mingle with everyone?” she murmurs in my ear, sounding breathy.
I glance at my watch. “We’ve been here seventy-two minutes. That’s long enough, right?”
“Totally.”
“Where’s the honeymoon suite?”
“Not far. The question you should be asking me is where’s the honeymoon itself?”
Her eyes widen. “You’re serious? We’re going somewhere?”
My grin turns seductive when I think of all the long days and nights alone with my new bride. “Baldwin Beach. For a week.”
“Where’s that?”
“It’s a surprise. But you know what I heard from this really gorgeous—albeit drunk—woman not long ago, wearing a dress that looks surprisingly like this one?”
Eryn giggles. “Do tell…”
“All the best beaches start with a B. Ready to find out if that’s true?”
Laughing, she tosses herself against me. “And you’ll be with me at this beach?”
“Yes.”
“Will the orgasm quotient be high?”
“Not just high, but so massive it will be disgusting. You’re going to come home with noodle legs and a really loopy smile, Mrs. Quaid.”
“You too.” She tugs on my hand and leads me toward the door. “Let’s go.”
I sling an arm around her waist and follow. “You know I never stopped loving you.”
She pauses and kisses me softly. “I never stopped, either. And now we’ve got each other for the rest of our lives.”
* * *
Want another second-chance romance about a bad boy who fights ruthlessly to claim his ex? Turn the page…
Also from Shayla Black
More Than Need You
Meet Griffin Reed. He discovered his ex’s secret. Now, he’s willing to do
anything to win her back in MORE THAN NEED YOU, part of Shayla’s steamy, emotional More Than Words series.
* * *
Keep reading for an excerpt!
Excerpt from More Than Need You
More Than Words: Book Two
I’m Griffin Reed—cutthroat entrepreneur and competitive bastard. Trust is a four-letter word and everyone is disposable…except Britta Stone. Three years ago, she was my everything before I stupidly threw her away. I thought I’d paid for my sin in misery—until I learned we have a son. Finding out she’s engaged to a bore who’s rushing her to the altar pisses me off even more. I intend to win her back and raise our boy. I’ll have to get ruthless, of course. Luckily, that’s one of my most singular talents.
Sixty days. That’s what I’m asking the gritty, independent single mother to give me—twenty-four/seven. Under my roof. And if I have my way, in my bed. Britta says she wants nothing to do with me. But her body language and passionate kisses make her a liar. Now all I have to do is coax her into surrendering to the old magic between us. Once I have her right where I want her, I’ll do whatever it takes to prove I more than need her.
“Take this.” She lifts the first chair and proffers it to me, holding it between us.
I take it from her grasp. “Got it.”
The tension between us is a tingle prickling the back of my neck.
“Thanks.” Her hands are shaking. Her gaze won’t quite meet mine.
She’s visibly nervous. Because I make her feel something. Maxon swears she’s still in love with me. If I want Britta back, I need to tell her how I feel. It’s something I’ve historically sucked at. I also have to give her a reason to open up to me in return.
This is my moment. My heart is thudding manically. Maxon stayed in the living/dining room. Jamie is surely sleeping in his crib. And we’re not in the office. This chance alone with her may not come around again soon. All I have to do is kick the bedroom door shut behind me.
