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The Lucky One (Carolina Connections Book 3)

Page 23

by Sylvie Stewart


  “Yup. We’ll tell you all about it later. Right now, you have some ‘splainin’ to do.” She gestured to the door where Bailey and Mark were emerging. They were caught up in conversation and didn’t notice me until they were about ten feet away. As soon as Bailey saw me, she turned around and headed back toward the building.

  “Bailey, wait! I’m so sorry! It was not at all what it looked like!”

  The smile Mark had been wearing dropped and he came closer to me. “What the fuck did you do now?”

  Fiona grabbed his arm. “Don’t worry, He-Man. It was just a misunderstanding. They’ll work it out.”

  I brushed past both of them and went after Bailey. She had almost made it to the double doors of the building when Anton burst through the doors and came right at her. “You bitch! You just had to play that revenge card, didn’t you? My reputation is going to be ruined and it’s your fault!”

  He grabbed her by both shoulders and shook her. “You weren’t even worth the shitty lay!” This was not fucking happening. I sprinted in their direction.

  “Get your fucking hands off her!”

  I could hear Mark’s footsteps pounding the sidewalk just behind mine.

  “Stay out of this, lawn guy!” Anton said as he pushed Bailey and she stumbled back. I reached her just as she lost her footing and started to go down. My arms caught her in time and I righted her again. Mark got in Anton’s face with Fiona not far behind.

  “Don’t you fucking touch her, cumstain!” That one came from Fiona.

  “What are you going to do, hit me again?” Anton taunted Mark. The veins in Mark’s neck popped out.

  “No, but I will,” came Bailey’s voice right before she kicked Anton Motherfucking Germaine right in the balls.

  He went down hard, and it didn’t escape my notice that his new pair of glasses hit the sidewalk first.

  “Well that was fun,” said Fiona an hour later. We’d all gathered at Bailey’s condo where I’d insisted she come to rest. All the day’s drama had to be putting stress on her and we weren’t taking any chances with the baby.

  “I have to say Bailey’s battle strategy was better than mine. No cracked knuckles or visible injuries to the victim.” Mark snickered.

  “Speaking of,” I said. “How the hell did you get away without having to pay that asshole off?”

  Mark and Fiona looked at each other and smiled. “Well, big brother,” Mark said, “it helps to have a kick-ass woman by your side.”

  Mark’s eyes stayed on Fiona but mine went straight to the love seat where Bailey was passed out cold.

  Fiona waved it off. “It was nothing.”

  They went on to explain that Fiona had done some digging and discovered Anton’s little gallery show had not gone well. At all. In fact, he hadn’t sold one single painting. The gallery was dropping him and he was broke. It turned out this little lawsuit was going to be his meal ticket. He whined to his lawyer about not being able to sleep because he was so afraid Mark was coming after him, and he wasn’t able to create any more masterpieces because the stress was weighing on him too hard.

  “He knew that in itself was a longshot, so he thought he had another ace in the hole.”

  “The glasses? They couldn’t be worth much.”

  “No, he had it all worked out,” Mark began and Fiona cut in, as usual.

  “He got his ‘witnesses’ to say on record that he’d been carrying one of his ‘priceless’ paintings with him when Mark punched him. He even produced the damn thing right there on the conference table. There was a giant tear through the center.”

  “He didn’t have a painting with him!” I raised my voice and then glanced over to make sure I hadn’t woken Bailey.

  “Calm down, Nick Cage, I know,” Fiona threw back at me.

  “So, how did you prove he was lying?” I quieted myself.

  “I got us our own witness.” Fiona rubbed her hands together, à la mwahaha. “Turns out, there was a class letting out at the same time of the alleged confrontation.” She winked at Mark.

  There was nothing alleged about it and we all knew it. He laughed.

  “All I had to do was ask around. And, it just so happens that the professor of said class witnessed Anton conferring with his groupies right after the incident. He even heard them scheming.”

  “Damn. That’s a pretty credible witness. Impressive, Fiona.” I smiled at her and she preened. Damn, my brother had his hands full.

  Mark continued, “So, with Bailey and the professor’s statement discrediting Anton’s witnesses—and, therefore, the ‘priceless’ painting he was claiming in damages—there was really nothing left.”

  Fiona interjected, “Well, he still could have tried pushing the battery charge since I’m sure his face looked like hell, but the idiot didn’t even have any photographic evidence.” She snickered. “You should have seen his lawyer. She was all kinds of pissed.”

  “When Bailey and I left, she was getting ready to remove Anton’s balls with a rusty spoon,” Mark added.

  “I guess Bailey finished that job for her.” I smiled.

  After Mark and Fiona left, I called Jax to see if I’d tanked our job with the McGuires.

  “Well, if it isn’t the Casanova of the Triad,” he greeted. I did not smile at that. “Just giving you shit, man.”

  “I probably deserve it,” I responded.

  “No way. I assume you’re calling for a status report?”

  “You assume correctly. How badly did I fuck this up?” I pinched my eyes with my fingers as I waited for his answer.

  “I’m not saying you didn’t give it your best effort, but everything’s copacetic.”

  “Huh?” I marveled in a most sophisticated manner.

  “Look, I know women like Tessa McGuire. She doesn’t want her husband finding out about her extracurricular activities any more that you do. I simply paid her a friendly visit and informed her that if she didn’t want her husband knowing she was hitting on you, she’d better make herself scarce for the rest of the project and give you a wide berth. As in, restraining order size.”

  “Holy shit. And she agreed?”

  “Hell yes, she agreed. She knows where her bread is buttered. Her husband’s family is loaded, and she didn’t always wear such fancy duds, if you know what I mean. In fact, she used to be more partial to pasties.”

  Holy fuck. Pristine, buttoned-up Tessa McGuire used to be a damn stripper.

  “I don’t know how you do it, but thanks for saving my ass again,” I told Jax.

  “Not a problem, brother. Just a day in the life, you know.” He chuckled and I was sure he was leaning back in his chair with his feet up on his desk—shit-eating grin firmly in place.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Put the Sledgehammer Down and Let’s Settle This Like Adults

  BAILEY

  I awoke with my head resting on a very hard, very warm chest. Again. I groaned and stretched, causing my muscular pillow to shift and tighten. A glance up revealed Jake staring down at me.

  “I’m so sorry,” were the first words out of his mouth.

  I gave him a half-smile but didn’t respond to his statement. “What time is it?” I asked instead.

  He looked at his phone. “Two-thirty.”

  I sat up, realizing that we were situated on the couch. He must have moved me while I’d been sleeping. “Crap. I have to get to work. I’ve missed too much lately.”

  “You needed your rest. We don’t want to take any chances.”

  My lips tipped up again. “I know. But I really do have to go in. And I feel fine.”

  He sat up next to me, rearranging himself. “Can we talk first?”

  “Jake, I know you weren’t cheating on me. You didn’t do anything wrong, really. Well, I take that back. I wouldn’t have minded hearing you tell that bitch off, but I understand. You have to be careful with your business.”

  “No, that’s just it. I should have put you and us before the business. And I’m so sorry I di
dn’t.”

  “You were, in a way. I mean, we’d be kind of hurting if you had no income, don’t you think?”

  He laughed mirthlessly. “I guess, but you know what I mean. I’m really sorry. I told you to trust me, that I’d never let you down, and I failed at the first turn.”

  I reached for his hand, holding it in my own. “You didn’t let me down. The whole thing just made me realize I need to find my own way to really trust us. To trust this.” I looked to our joined hands and squeezed again.

  “How can I help make that happen, because I really need that to happen. I love you, and I want us to be a family,” he pleaded.

  “I think I have to figure that out on my own, Jake.”

  “Irish…”

  “I’m not kicking you out,” I reassured him. “I promise I’m going to do my best to fix whatever is going on in my head.”

  He released my hand and took my face in both of his palms, locking his dazzling hazel eyes on mine. Then he leaned in and gave me the sweetest kiss. It brought tears to my eyes, and I kissed him back, wanting nothing more than to give all of myself to this man. But I had work to do first.

  And I knew just where to start.

  “Hey, Dad,” I said as I walked into his office. “Does Mom know you’re working today?” I teased. It was well known that my mom did not approve of her husband spending much time in the office. She blamed his work habits for his heart attack last year. Personally, I blamed his former diet of fast food and Chinese take-out. But who could really blame him for his clandestine trips to the drive-thru when all he had waiting at home was my mom’s cooking?

  “Well, with you and Mark gallivanting about town, somebody had to work.” He gave me a grin so I’d know he was teasing back. “I heard Mark is off the hook, thank Christ.”

  I sat down across from him. “Yeah. That’s a huge relief.”

  “Well, sometimes a man deserves a good punch. If he can’t take it, he’s not much of a man.”

  “Another pearl of Irish wisdom?” I asked.

  He gave me the eye. “Don’t have to be Irish to know that one. It’s just a fact.”

  I smiled back at him. I really did love the crap out of my dad.

  “So, Dad, there’s something I need to talk to you about,” I began, bracing myself for the difficult conversation ahead.

  “If it’s about marrying that Jake, you already know my feelings. But it wouldn’t hurt if he officially asked me for your hand. Not that he deserves you.” His eyes went back to the papers on his desk.

  I rolled my eyes when I knew he wasn’t looking.

  “It’s not about Jake. Well, not directly.”

  He looked back up. “What is it, then?”

  I paused and bit my lip. I could do this. After all, I’d stood up to him when he’d been having his hissy fit at the work site. It was time to grow up. Time to be decisive and take control of my own damn future.

  “I don’t want the company.” Shit, I said it!

  He shifted his head to the side as if positioning himself to hear better. “Come again?”

  I straightened my spine, sitting up in the chair. “I don’t want Built by Murphy. I want to be an artist—a real one. And I want to go back to school if I can. Either way, I can’t keep working here, filling my days with building specs and space planning. It’s just not me,” I finished.

  He was silent. He just stared at me.

  I squirmed under his scrutiny. Then I began to lose my nerve. “I mean, I know with the baby coming and all, I’ll need insurance and an income, but I’m talking long-term.”

  “I see,” he said. “And exactly how long have you felt this way?”

  I looked down at my hands and mumbled, “Um, forever.”

  I heard him sigh. Then there was more silence. I finally risked a glance up. My dad had his hands steepled in front of him and he was looking at me, not with disappointment, but with something else. I could be totally mistaken, but it almost looked like pride.

  “Why didn’t you say anything?”

  “I was afraid to disappoint you—to hurt you.”

  “Oh, my Bailey.” His hands dropped flat on the desk and he looked at me with nothing but love in his eyes. I felt the tears welling in mine. These hormones were going to be the death of me. How did women survive this without stabbing someone? “All I ever wanted was for you to be happy. You have to know that.”

  I nodded because I did know that.

  “Sure, I want you and Nate to have your legacy, but not at the expense of your own dreams. If you need to find your own path, I’ll be nothing but proud.”

  I smiled and he gestured for me to come around the desk for a hug. “You know what they say, ‘You’ve got to do your own growing no matter how tall your father is.’”

  He just had to get one in there. I hugged him tightly and kissed his cheek, a totally uncharacteristic move for old Bailey. But my body had been taken over by “Bailey the Girl,” so I had little control.

  I pulled back a bit. “I know I have a lot to work out, but I really appreciate your support, Dad.”

  “I have faith in you. And, though it kills me to say it, I’m sure Jake will help.” He squeezed my arms.

  I smiled a little at that. “If I don’t totally screw things up with him.”

  My dad’s brow wrinkled. “What do you mean? That boy is half crazy with love for you.”

  My eyes widened. “You really think so?”

  “I know so. He even told me himself.”

  I swallowed hard. “But what if he breaks my heart?”

  “Well, I suppose there are no guarantees in life, but sometimes you just have to jump in feet first. Otherwise, you’re going to miss out on the good stuff.” He squeezed my arms again. “I promise you that.”

  “So, I guess I just need to make a decision to trust him—trust us—and hope for the best.”

  “That would be my advice. Follow your heart, Bailey. ‘Everything will be alright in the end. If it’s not alright it’s not the end.’”

  I hugged him again and laughed. “You’re a never-ending font of wisdom, Dad.”

  “And don’t you forget it.”

  After my big talk with my dad, I went to my office and tackled my inbox, all the while getting distracted by thoughts of Jake. He texted me around quitting time, asking if he should head back to his mom’s or come over to my place. I told him to come to the condo.

  It was time to nail this thing down once and for all. If I didn’t take the risk and let him in, I’d always regret it—I knew that down to my bones.

  But Jake wasn’t the only one I had to trust; I had to believe in myself too. Baby or no baby, I deserved to be loved. And it wasn’t up to my heart or the baby to let Jake over the wall. They could put their rope ladder and sledgehammer away. I was going to be the one to take my duct-taped heart and place it in Jake’s hands myself. Because if he loved me, he’d not only be the first, but with any luck he’d be the last. And how could I throw that chance away?

  By the time Jake knocked on my door, I was pulling a frozen pizza out of the oven. Baby steps, people. I dropped it on the cutting board and went to let him in. He stood in my doorway, dressed in a clean thermal and dark gray cargo pants. I wanted to eat him instead of the pizza.

  I met his eyes and saw trepidation. I needed to wipe that shit out ASAP, so I got up on tiptoes and planted a hot kiss on his lips. It took him about a third of a second to put his arms around me and take control of the kiss. I felt him urge me back a few steps and then I heard the door shut. Next thing I knew, Jake was pressing me against the door, as he so loves to do. I grinned against his lips, and he took the opportunity to slip his tongue between my teeth. My tongue met his stroke for stroke and I felt everything south of the border burst into flame.

  I grabbed at his hair, twisting it in my fingers as I began to pant into his mouth. Jesus, at least these hormones were good for one thing. Although, pregnancy hormones aside, Jake had affected me this strongly from the very b
eginning. My mind tripped back to our first night together and it hit me. Maybe I wasn’t Bailey 2.0, but regular Bailey had been in that hotel too. And Jake had wanted her—wanted me. Just like he did now.

  With a surge of self-assurance and good old fashioned horniness, I pushed him forward until the backs of his knees hit the arm of the couch and we both went tumbling onto it. I pulled at the hem of his shirt as he grabbed my ass with both hands. As soon as I revealed his bare skin, I brought my mouth down to have a taste. God, he was firm and hot and his skin was salty on my tongue.

  He released my ass just long enough to remove his shirt entirely and then his hands were back, delving inside the back of my pants and granny panties—I know, but don’t ruin the moment for me. I went back to my sensory exploration of his chest and stomach, flicking my tongue down his happy trail. Jake groaned and pulled me up by my asscheeks so I was straddling him. He quickly disposed of my shirt and bra and started on the button of my pants, only to get distracted by my breasts.

  He took one firm peak in his mouth and bit down gently on my puckered nipple. I moaned and arched my back, silently begging for more. My breasts were so damn sensitive—another point going to team pregnancy. He licked over the spot he’d bitten before moving to my other breast.

  By this point, he had my zipper down and I was reaching between us for his. I rose up on my knees to get better access and he used the opportunity to pull down my pants and underwear, shifting me so he could remove them entirely. I did the same with his and then he pulled me back on top of him, both of us naked.

  His eyes devoured me and I fought a blush. I lost, of course, and a flush spread over my entire body. Jake’s eyes were stormy with lust. His hands gently caressed me from the top of my breasts down to my knees, his eyes following his hands the entire time. I felt…worshipped. I’d never experienced this before.

  His eyes finally met mine again. “You are so goddamn beautiful, Irish.” Then he took my mouth again.

  We were a frenetic tumble of limbs and mouths, each of us exploring every square inch of the other’s body. At some point, Jake stood with me wrapped around him like a spider monkey, and strode to the bedroom where he deposited me on my bed. He proceeded to climb on top of me and hold my wrists over my head with one hand while his other went between us to find my clit. He circled it with his thumb while his mouth teased my breasts. I squirmed beneath him, but his hold was tight so I just went along for the ride.

 

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