Montgomery Billionaire Series

by Michelle Love

  I sit up and look at him. “No! No, Benny!”

  “I think you should be alone to think.” He looks straight ahead without looking over at me.

  “No, Benny. Or is it I because you’re mad at me?” I ask as I wipe my eyes.

  “I’m not mad.” He glances at me sideways. “I’m probably just as confused as you are. I mean, here we both thought this guy was just a really big asshole and come to find out he was in a coma all this time. There’s a lot for you to think about. I know that. And I saw how you reacted to him. You did love him at one time.”

  I lean back and drop my head onto the back of the seat. “Please don’t leave me alone, Benny. I’ll just go in circles in my mind. I need you, Baby.”

  His eyes flash as he turns his head to look at me. “If it will make you feel better, then I won’t leave you alone. But if you need space all you have to do is ask me for it. I want you to know I understand this is not a normal situation.”

  Leaning into him, I run my fingertips over his upper thigh. “Benny, I love you. Although this situation is not normal, my love for you will overcome anything I feel for Gage. I know it will.”

  “Hope so.” He kisses my forehead and I feel something in the light kiss.

  Something that tells me he’s guarding his heart in case I do pick Gage instead of him.

  “You’re a very good man, Benjamin Worthington,” I tell him and stroke his chest.

  The muscles ripple underneath his tight black T-shirt as my fingers run over them. He takes my hand off his chest and kisses it. “I’m not, Angel. You bring this man out in me. If you knew how badly I want to still rip the guy’s head off, you’d think differently.”

  “Why do you still want to rip his head off? He didn’t leave me like I thought,” I ask.

  “Because he kissed you and wants to steal you away from me.”

  I nod. “Yeah, that would make me kind of want to rip someone’s head off too. You know, Benny, you have more patience and tolerance than I do.”

  “I know,” he says then we both laugh.

  I play with his beard. “Promise me you won’t hurt him, though. I already feel pretty terrible that he was hurt, and I wasn’t around to help him.”

  He pulls into our drive and looks over at me as he parks the truck. “You know I won’t hurt him. Unless he really pisses me off, then I will.”

  “Well, of course, if he really pisses you off. I’m going to need you two to play nice while we all figure things out.” He gets out of the truck and I scoot over. Then he picks me up and carries me. “I can walk, you know.”

  “I know that. I want to carry you.” He kisses the tip of my nose.

  Laying my head on his chest, he carries me inside where Cuddles greets us at the door. “So, this was his dog, huh?”

  “He got her from the pound when she was a puppy.”

  The dog jumps around his feet, threatening to trip him up but somehow he evades her efforts. “You know something he said keeps running through my mind.”

  He takes the stairs up to our bedroom as I ask, “What’s that?”

  “He said his cell phone was there, in the hospital, turned on, right?”

  I nod as he gets to our room and pushes the door open. Cuddles runs in ahead of us and goes straight to the little doggy bed Benny picked out for her. Our bed is too high off the ground for her to jump up on.

  “I think he said that. The truth is my head is more than a bit foggy.” He lies me on the bed and starts to undress me.

  His fingers run over my stomach as he unbuttons my pants. “If he had his phone, and he said all he could think about was you when he woke up then why didn’t he call you?”

  “Maybe because his family still had the phone and I think he said he forgot how to talk too.”

  He takes my boots off then pulls my pants all the way off. I sit up and pull my little top off and unclasp my bra and take it off too. Benny nods as he looks as if he’s thinking hard.

  He strips my panties off then begins the process of pulling off his own clothes. “But when he could speak again, what stopped him then? Do you have the same cell number as you did when he left?”

  “Yeah. And my work number was on his phone as well. And now I do wonder why he didn’t call. Especially before he set out to come to Sturgis to find me. He could’ve made a phone call and done that. But maybe he has some brain damage now. I couldn’t really tell, but I wasn’t all there, to be honest.”

  He lies next to me and pulls me to lie on his chest. Soft lips touch the top of my head. “Sleep, my Angel. Tomorrow we’ll get our answers.”

  And now I can’t do anything but lie here wide awake and think about why he didn’t just call.

  Something doesn’t seem right about this…

  Chapter 3

  BLAZE

  My night was pretty sleepless as Angie tossed and turned most of it. But she’s sleeping peacefully now that the sun’s come up. I was woken up by my cell phone springing to life at six this morning, a half hour ago.

  I had put the phone on silent but the light from the screen woke me and I found my father’s name on it. I didn’t answer it, of course, as I have a lot on me as it is without adding their drama to it.

  Climbing out of bed, I want to get the coffee started so it’ll be ready when she wakes up. She always does better with a little coffee to help start her day. And I think this day is going to be pretty eventful.

  I pull on my underwear and head out of the room to go to the kitchen, scratching my beard as I go. I feel like something the cat drug in.

  Cuddles follows me and jumps around all happy and I wonder how she’ll feel about seeing her old master, Gage. She’ll probably split a seam I bet.

  Just as we hit the last stair, she bolts toward the front door, yapping her little ass off. I follow her and see a black town car parked in our drive.

  Now who could this be?

  Quickly I go back upstairs and throw on a pair of jeans and pull a T-shirt over my head and head back down to find out who in the hell thinks it’s okay to pull up in my drive so damn early in the morning.

  I throw the door open and Cuddles runs out to the car barking like a mad dog. As I thought, even though she’s tiny, no one wants a piece of that action. The window in the back goes down and my father’s head pops out of it.

  Fuck!

  “I wouldn’t get out if I were you. We think she has rabies,” I shout.

  The way his eyes go all wide makes me laugh. “Really, Son?”

  I walk out in my bare feet and pick up the frantic poodle mix and hold her under my arm. “You’re safe now.”

  My father’s driver gets out and opens the door for him. My mother slips out of the car behind my father and I walk toward the house. With the dog trying desperately to gain its freedom and kill my parents.

  If she could do any real damage, I might just let her go.

  But since she can’t, I hold onto her until we get inside the house. “Let me just put Killer here out in the back.”

  I walk away as my parents look all around the great room and try not to look impressed. That would be too boorish of them as my grandfather would say.

  When I come back, I see they’ve sat down on the giant leather sofa and seem to be a bit confused by everything. “You keep a dog in the house, Benjamin?” my father asks me.

  I nod. “You guys want to follow me to the kitchen. I need to get some coffee going and maybe a pitcher of margaritas.”

  They get up and follow me as Mother says, “Surely, you jest.”

  I shrug my shoulders. It seems like a little alcohol might be in order this morning which is starting way too early and way to awful. Not that it was going to be an awesome day, anyway with Gage in the plans for the day.

  Gesturing to the barstools by the island in the kitchen, I say, “Take a load off. That must’ve been some ride. I’m sure you two are beat. I can set you up in one of our many guest rooms if you guys need a nap.”

  My father looks at me
as if I’m insane. “Benjamin you must know we took our jet to the small airport just outside of town and had a car waiting there for us.”

  “And you brought your own driver from home? You didn’t think James might like the day off since you’re away from New York?” I ask as I pour some water into the back of the old style coffee maker Angel insisted on.

  My mother shakes her head, making her blonde bob haircut bounce around her neck, that’s strung with pearls. Always the picture of the perfect wife and mother, she is. Much like June Cleaver. I guess she’s her role model.

  “What are you doing there, Benjamin? When is it you learned to cook, Son?”

  “I took a cooking class in college,” I say with a smile as Harvard offers no cooking classes in its legal schooling.

  My father frowns. “Seems you’ve become quite the jokester this year. I don’t see the need for humor myself. It gets in the way of real things. Life, work, respect. Of which you are rapidly losing mine by the way.”

  “Am I now?” I spoon in the fresh coffee grounds Angel loves and look at my father. “I’m losing some for you and especially my grandfather. Representing that horrible man, Bain, isn’t a thing I thought you approved of either. Nor my brother for that matter. But when Grandfather speaks, you two cower. I’m done cowering. I won’t work for a firm that takes that man’s back.”

  Mom chimes in, which is not at all like her, “Mr. Bain has every right to charge the price he sees fit without the government telling him what he has to do. This is a country with a free enterprise system. If we let them do this to him, then it sets a precedent where they can do it to others as well. Setting the prices, they see fit without the knowledge of what it costs to produce things.”

  I shake my head and look at my mother. “You’re right in the regards of the government and their interference in most things. Bain holds the keys to the only drug known to extend the lives of people with AID’s, though. He’s jacked up the price the original producer found they could sell the product for and still make a profit.”

  My father clears his throat. “But our client, Mr. Bain, has a product which is high in demand. He’s justified in raising the price. Others in areas of in-demand products do the same thing.”

  “But, Father, those are things people want. Their lives don’t depend on them being able to get it. People should be able to affordably obtain what’s necessary to live. I shouldn’t even have to argue about this with you. In the beginning, you were on the right side. What the hell happened?” I ask and then I see Angel stumbling to the top of the stairs, rubbing her eyes.

  “Is Gage here already?” she asks in a mumbled voice.

  “Shit,” I hiss and run to her as she’s wearing only a robe and her hair’s a mess.

  She didn’t even bother to do a thing. She’s must’ve woken up and thought I was down here arguing with her old boyfriend.

  “Angel, my parents are here.”

  She stops on the third from the top stair and spins around. “I’ll be right back. I have to change my clothes.”

  I’m thankful the position my parents are sitting in didn’t let them see her. Neither of them ever leave their bedroom without looking a thousand percent ready for the day.

  And then their eyes level on me. “What was she wearing, Benjamin?” my mother asks.

  “A robe. We’re very informal here. This is the country. There are usually no unexpected visitors here. So we don’t usually get dressed for the day until after we’ve had coffee and breakfast.” I pour Angel a large cup of coffee and put some cream from the fridge in it. “I’m going to run this up to her. Be right back. Make yourselves some if you’d like. Everything’s right here in the kitchen.”

  I haul ass to our room and find her frantically brushing her teeth and hair at the same time. She spits out a glob of toothpaste as she sees me come in. “What the hell, Benny?”

  “They just showed up. It’s about work,” I say as I sit the coffee on the vanity top.

  “It’s about me too,” she says then rinses her mouth out with mouthwash.

  I shake my head. “No, I think it’s just work, Baby. I don’t want you to stress about it. Not one bit. You have enough to worry about without that. And so do I.”

  I look around and find a hair clip I bought her a few days ago that isn’t expensive but it looks like it is. Quickly, I braid her hair and clip the end with the clip.

  She looks at it in the mirror. “That looks nice. Please pick me out something to wear they’ll approve of, Benny.”

  Hurrying to the closet, I pick out a simple beige dress she has. I’ve yet to take her shopping and now I’m regretting it. Some white flats I find and take them to her. “Didn’t I see a strand of pearls in your jewelry box?”

  She nods and I rush to get them and place them around her neck.

  Perfect!

  She looks very normal. Very bland, but my parents like people that way.

  Running my arm around her shoulders, I take her out to meet my parents. The words, ‘don’t be nervous,’ keep running through my brain as we go down the stairs.

  She takes in a deep breath as we hit the last one and looks at me, then gives me a wink. Somehow she managed to get just enough makeup on to look radiant.

  We round the corner to the kitchen and she beams at my parents who look at her with a mix of astonishment and wonder. Angel steps forward, her hand extended. “Hello, I’m Angel Jennings. Benny’s told me so much about you both. It’s such a pleasure to meet the people who made this magnificent man the person he is.”

  My father and mother get up off the bar stools. Father shakes her hand first. She shocks the hell out him and me both as she pulls him into a hug. Then does the same thing with my mother.

  “Well, oh my,” Mom says as Angel gives her a pat on the back too.

  Angel steps back and comes to my side. I run my arm around her shoulders again as she says, “I know people of your stature aren’t big on hugs, but in middle America we’re huge on them. Please take a seat. No reason for you to be standing. We’re very informal way out here in the country.”

  Angel looks back at me and runs her hand over my beard, straightening it some. “Thanks,” I say then look back at my parents who are looking at us with slack jaws.

  “Um,” my father says. “Well, I don’t know what to say. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Angel. Is that your real name or a nickname of sorts?”

  She smiles and moves away from me to go to the fridge. “It’s my real name. Care for a juice of some sort? We have every kind there is.”

  Mother runs her hands over her pearls and stares at the ones Angel has on. “I’ll take an apple juice, Dear. Mr. Worthington will take a prune. Did our son buy you those pearls?”

  Angel grabs two juice glasses from the cabinet and looks over her shoulder at my mother. “No, these were my great-grandmother's. They were handed down to me. I love wearing them. They remind me where it is I come from.”

  “Where do you come from, Dear?” Mom asks as I hold my breath as the answer will not make her happy.

  Angel takes the juices from the fridge and fills the glasses. “I come from a family of hard workers. My great-grandfather was a railroad engineer way back in the day. He made a nice living, but it took him a lot of hours to make that kind of money that made them only middle class. I’m proud to say that I’m the very first person in my family to get a Master’s degree. Some have Associate’s and a few have their Bachelor’s but I’m only months away from gaining the highest degree anyone in my family has achieved.”

  My father gives her a genuine smile as she places their drinks in front of them. “That’s quite an accomplishment. And what is your degree in?”

  “Engineering. I want to build motorcycles,” she says with a huge smile.

  My mother nearly chokes on her juice. “Why those things? Not very lady like, I must say.”

  Angel laughs lightly. “Not one bit. You’re right about that. But they’re not about ladies or gentlemen. The
y aren’t about boys or girls. They aren’t about men or women. Motorcycles are about experiencing the freedom of the road. The wind, the sun, and the moon, the elements in their rawest forms. That’s what they’re about. I want to make a machine that’s easier for people of lighter weights to handle. To feel the road beneath their tires better and feel more confident in their ability to handle such a powerful machine.”

  My father looks at me with his eyebrows way up high. “My, she’s an impressive young thing, isn’t she?”

  My heart stops as they’re reacting to her so much better than I thought they would. “She is quite impressive.”

  Angel takes an apron out of the drawer. “I’m not all that. Now, if you’ll help me, Benny, we can whip up some omelets for breakfast.”

  I go to help her then say, “Father, we’d like to invite James in to eat.”

  “Someone’s outside?” Angel asks.

  I nod. “Their driver. He came with them from New York.”

  She shakes her head. “Get the eggs out and start the sausage and bacon mixture we made up yesterday morning heating up. I’ll run and get him.”

  “Oh, it’s not necessary,” my father says. “I’m sure he’ll turn you down.”

  She stops and spins around. “Why’s that?”

  Mother rolls her eyes. “Staff doesn’t eat with us, Dear.”

  “At my house they do,” Angel says and takes off to retrieve the driver my parents have had for the last twenty years.

  Once she’s all the way out of the house and I hear the door shut, I ask, against my better judgment, “So, what do you think?”

  They look at each other as if mentally communicating. Then they look back at me as my father answers, “She’s wonderful. She’ll need to be schooled in the proper ways of etiquette and the rules of our social status, such as staff and things like that. Do you suppose you could teach her those things, Benjamin? Also, she’ll have to stop calling you by that nickname. Oh, what your grandfather would do to her if he ever heard that name come out of her mouth. I fear for the girl, you know?”

  “You know, I was afraid for her too. But she just absolutely blew me away just now. I think she’ll deal with Grandfather just fine. I won’t be teaching her a thing. She’s teaching me.”