by Tina Martin
Wives And Champions
The Champion Brothers
Book 4
By Tina Martin
Copyright © 2016 by Tina Martin
WIVES AND CHAMPIONS
Smashwords Edition
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, photocopying and recording, without prior written consent of the author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, businesses and products are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any similarity to actual events, locales, business establishments, organizations or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
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Dear Reader,
When I wrote the first book in The Champion Brothers series, titled, His Paradise Wife, I knew book two, When A Champion Wants You, and book three, The Best Thing He Never Knew He Needed would follow. However, I had no idea I would end up writing a family novel, but after many emails and requests from my readers (I love you guys!), I’m happy to be able to share book four of The Champion Brothers series titled, Wives And Champions. Book four takes a deeper look inside the lives of Dante & Emily, Dimitrius & Melanie and Desmond & Sherita. Too often in writing, readers don’t get to see what happens AFTER the happily ever afters. Well, in Wives And Champions, you have that rare opportunity!
While you may read Wives And Champions as a standalone book, for a better reading experience, please get to know the brothers in detail by reading their individual stories, listed in order below.
Book #1 - HIS PARADISE WIFE
Widower, Dante Champion, has his eyes and heart set on Emily Mitchell, but she’s not interested. She’s falling for a man she met online. When she discovers her mystery, online man is none other than Dante Champion, will a weekend at Pleasure Island change her mind about him?
Book #2 - WHEN A CHAMPION WANTS YOU
Melanie Summers is not ready for a relationship, but a possible new job at The Champion Corporation puts her center stage in front of Dimitrius Champion. They’ve exchanged glances before, but hardly anything more. But will a straightforward proposition from Dimitrius interfere with her chances of landing a dream job and real love?
Book #3 - THE BEST THING HE NEVER KNEW HE NEEDED
Bad boy, motorcycle-riding, alpha male, Desmond Champion, is the youngest of the Champion brothers. He’s had his mind on Sherita Wilkins more times than he’d ever admit. A business deal brings them together, but it may be Desmond’s selfish ways that drives them apart.
Happy reading!
Tina Martin
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ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
I’m very appreciative of the readers who give my work a chance, and who email me with kind words of support. It means a lot! Thankful to those who take the time to leave book reviews, not only for me, but all indie authors. Thankful to the people who understand that writing is an art form. That it is hard, excruciating work at times. (The struggle is real!) Thankful to those who know the difference between fiction and nonfiction. Thankful for those who read books to be entertained and not to take words, ideas and imaginations of authors out of context. Thank you for being a reader! Love you guys!
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WIVES AND CHAMPIONS
Chapter One
“Have mercy on my soul,” Dante uttered slowly to himself as he lowered the business magazine that had claimed his attention for the last ten minutes to watch Emily walk towards him with her signature strut in a black formfitting dress. He’d reserved a private table at Connelley’s – a swanky, upscale Asheville restaurant – for himself and Emily, only they couldn’t ride there together because she was tied up at work. So he arrived first, killed time by skimming over business articles until she arrived, and boy did she arrive. His eyes found exquisite joy in watching Emily sashay towards the table, hips swaying, head held high. She wore confidence well and looked so good, she turned heads with every step. Looked so breathtakingly beautiful, she even made him squint, and he was married to her. Lived with her. Had made a baby with her. Still, she had the power to make his insides sizzle with unbridled heat. Made small, electrical jolts involuntarily move his hands while other parts of him ached.
He leaned back in his chair, fully checking her out, eyes raking over her – rolling down to her smooth-shaven legs, stiletto, peep-toe heels and back up the contours of her body before landing on a beautiful face. He instinctively licked his lips. The black dress hugged every one of her delectable curves. Hair was different than it was when they went their separate ways this morning for work. Then, it was curly. Now, it was straight, long, brown and silky, resting on delicate, feminine shoulders. Her glossy-pink lips were as full as the harvest moon. Eyes brighter than a summer morning. Smile gorgeous. Toffee skin glowing just right, kissed by the dimly lit light fixtures in the restaurant.
He grimaced. She looked so good it hurt. And she was his. And yes, he considered himself lucky.
When she was closer to the table, Dante stood up, greeting her with open arms. “Good evening, sweetheart.”
“Good evening, Dante.” She stepped into his embrace, closed her arms around him and breathed like she was taking part in an aromatherapy exercise. “Ah. It’s so nice to be in your arms after a hard day’s work.” She squeezed, held on and breathed in his familiar, calming scent. He smelled good. Even after what was probably a stressful day for him holding things down at The Champion Corporation, he looked good. Cool. Calm. In control. When was he not in control?
Dante pressed his lips against her temple. “I’m glad I can be of comfort to you.” He pulled out a chair for her. “For you, my lady.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
He sat down, leaned back in his chair while staring at her again. He watched her lips grow into a smile. Saw her cheeks redden.
“Yes?” she asked, glancing up at him with wide eyes and dark, defined lashes.
“I didn’t say anything.”
“No, but you’re staring at me like you want to say something.”
“That’s simply because I have the most beautiful wife a man could ever ask for.”
“Really?”
“Yes. Really.”
“Does she know I’m here with you tonight?” Emily asked, mildly amused.
Dante smirked. He didn’t respond, just looked at her, remembering how they’d met and how much work he put into ensuring that, one day, Emily Mitchell would be Emily Champion. He was relentless in his efforts, yet patient. Determined. He’d created a fake online persona, Armand Hill, connected with her in cyberspace, dated online for a few months and it was only when they met in person that she found out Armand Hill was really Dante Champion. While she rejected him at first, she came around in the end. And it had all been worth it.
“You look beautiful, Emily. Absolutely stunning.”
“Thank you, Dante,” she told him as she fiddled with the gold-plated bar necklace on her neck, inscribed with their son’s name – Ezra. It had been a gift from Dante. “I know you like my hair like this. Figured I’d switch it up for you for a change.”
“Baby, I like your hair any way you want to wear it. Trust me on that.”
She smiled, eyes roaming his face, catching sight of his trimmed mustache. Slender lips. A five o’clock shadow peeping through that she was tempted to reach across the table and touch.
; “Shall we order some wine?” he asked.
“Wine? What’s the occasion, Mr. Champion?”
“Do we need one?”
“No. I guess we don’t.”
Right on cue, a waiter came by their table. Dante ordered a bottle of sweet, red wine then focused his attention on Emily again. “So, how was your day?”
She dispelled a breath. “It was hectic. Had to order more inventory.”
“Ordering inventory is a good thing, right? That means you’re selling stock and have to replenish it.”
“Yes, you’re right. It is a good thing.”
“Then why do I sense some frustration.”
She smiled uncomfortably. “It’s just that…it’s nothing.”
“Tell me.”
“We were just crazy busy again today.”
“But Carly’s helping you, right?”
Emily sighed. Carly, her new assistant, helped her out, but Carly didn’t handle anxiety well. She easily became flustered when one customer was pulling her this way, another that way and then, to add to the chaos, Carly had to take phone calls.
So even with help, Emily still had to step in more times than she deemed necessary, especially during the boutique’s busiest hours – primarily from 11:00 a.m. until 2:00 p.m.
“Yes. She’s helping me, but I can sense she’s overwhelmed. I think she may quit on me.”
Eyebrows raised, he asked, “Are you overwhelmed?”
“I’m not worried about me.”
“I am.”
“Dante—”
“Are you overwhelmed?”
“I can manage.”
His jaw hardened as he fully shifted into protective, husband mode. “That doesn’t answer my question, Emily,” he said evenly, sitting up tall, broad shoulders alert, waiting for her response.
“I’m not going to answer your question because I already know what you’re going to say, Dante, and I don’t need you to be preachy and fatherly right now.”
“What?” he asked with a deep ridge on his forehead.
“I need to be able to vent to you without you trying to save the day. I just want to be able to talk. You don’t have to solve all of my problems.”
His frown deepened. “Where is this coming from?”
Arriving with the wine, the waiter interrupted their conversation, and maybe that was a good thing. It would help reduce the sudden tension floating around their table. While the waiter was there, he took their food orders.
Dante ordered a ribeye and lobster.
Emily opted for the salmon.
When they were alone again, Dante poured wine in their glasses, handed a glass to Emily and said, “You know what…let’s not talk about work. I don’t want to ruin dinner with business talk.”
Emily nodded, pushing out a heavy sigh, one contrary to her head nod. Placing her glass on the table, she glanced up at Dante and forced herself to smile. Work was hard on her, especially with having a child at home and juggling so many responsibilities, trying to keep track of it all in her head.
While they had a nanny now, Ms. Praline, the sweetest, most kindest woman ever, Emily still struggled with what every working mom considered a thorn – having someone else raise her children while she was busy working. And her case was a unique one because she didn’t need to work. Time and time again, Dante reminded her of that. He made enough money for the both of them, so from his vantage point, her working so hard was voluntary, which meant she was voluntarily taking time away from Ezra. And what angered her the most was, he was right.
She closed her eyes and took a breath. It was her boutique. Her store. Her passion. What was she supposed to do? Give it up because her husband had money? Could a woman not have her own money-making venture, or did marrying a man with wealth automatically mean the woman was supposed to stay home, raise children, walk around with bare feet and forego her dreams?
She frowned slightly. Cleared her throat. She couldn’t tell Dante any of this because she knew what his solution would be. He’d tell her to quit, or hire people to run the boutique for her. The businessman inside of his six-feet body wouldn’t understand her predicament. Besides, men and women had completely different mindsets when it came to rearing children. While Dante loved Ezra, was a phenomenal father and provider, most of the responsibility for Ezra’s care fell on her. Like, for instance, when Ezra needed his shots – she left work to take Ezra to the doctor, not him. And what about those occasions when a child just needed his mother. When no one else would do, not even a sixty-year-old, nurturing Ms. Praline.
“Emily.” He called her name so she could look at him. He’d been trying to get her attention for the last few minutes, but she’d completely checked out, daydreaming.
She blinked, came out of her reverie and caught sight of his narrowed, inquisitive eyes.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
She nodded. “Yes. Just tired.”
Just tired.
He sighed heavily. Every married man knew what just tired meant. While it could’ve actually meant she was exhausted in a physical sense, and maybe she was, she was more tired of whatever it was bothering her. Was she tired of the boutique? Tired of him asking her questions? What?
“Maybe dinner was a bad idea,” he told her. “I thought it would be nice to go out since we haven’t had an opportunity to do this in a while, but—”
“It’s fine, Dante.”
He lifted a brow. “Is it?”
“Yes.”
“Then why do I feel so much tension between us right now?”
“Because you’re making it tense. Just drop it. Please?”
His eyes narrowed. Veins hardened at his temples. “Okay. Dropped,” he said, taking his glass of wine from the table, enjoying a long sip. He set the glass on the table, twirled it while looking across the table at her and her untouched glass of wine. She didn’t want to be here. He could feel it.
The waiter was back with their meals and while they ate, Dante glanced up at Emily now and then because he was concerned about her. She didn’t need to stress herself out over the boutique or anything else. He understood her drive and loved the fact that she was a driven, go-getter, but she didn’t need to do much go-getting when he was pulling in millions of dollars in income every year. Her work was by choice, which meant her stress was also by choice. Now, without her even having to confess it to him, he realized the boutique was too much for her. And what he wanted to talk about tonight would make her stress level rise even higher.
He wanted another child.
He hesitated to bring it up in the past, but he had to bring it up now. He wanted his children to grow up together. He didn’t want them spread too far apart in age and Ezra was already a year old. Now was the time to discuss having another baby.
“How’s your meal?” she asked him.
“It’s delicious.” Dante took a sip of water.
“Mine, too.”
More silence passed between them while they continued eating.
Breaking the silence after licking butter from his fingers, Dante said, “Emily, I’ve been hesitant to bring up this subject, but I’m just going to put it out there. Have you given any consideration to another baby?”
Emily fought hard to keep a straight, expressionless face. Another baby? Was she hearing things? Had to be. She barely had time to spend with Ezra. When would she have time for another baby?
“Emily.”
“No, I haven’t given it any consideration,” she said, avoiding eye contact. She took a sip of water.
He frowned. “Why not?”
“Because—”
“Can you look at me?” he interrupted to request.
She looked at him, holding his gaze and said, “I’m not ready for another baby.”
“Can you elaborate?”
“What’s there to elaborate on? I’m not ready.”
Dante dropped his fork on his plate and snatched the black napkin from his lap to wipe his mouth.
E
mily frowned. Okay, he wanted her to elaborate, so she decided to do just that. “Do you know I haven’t seen Ezra since I left home this morning? I left the house at eight o’clock and I haven’t seen my son once during the course of the day,” Emily said with a strained voice. She rolled her wrist to check the time. “It’s a few minutes after nine, and I haven’t seen my child at all today. Do you know how that makes me feel, Dante?”
“What do you mean you haven’t seen him? Didn’t you go home to change clothes before coming here?”
“No,” she responded, flustered.
“Then—”
“I took this dress from my inventory at the boutique, then went straight to the salon to get something done to my hair so I could look halfway decent enough to come to a five-star restaurant tonight, but if I’m being completely honest with you, I would much rather—” Her voice cracked. Broke. She took a moment before continuing, “I would much rather be home with my son right now.”
Dante dropped the black napkin on his plate. He knew she didn’t want to be here. This confirmed it. What was the point of continuing to sit, have dinner, enjoy dessert and conversation when their exchange had been strained from the start. “We can go.”
“We’re here now. We may as well—”
Dante stood up. “No. Let’s go. If you don’t want to be here, then you shouldn’t.”
“Dante—”
“I’m not going to make you spend time with me, Emily. You don’t want to be here so the simple solution is to go. So let’s go.”
“All right,” Emily said, pushing her chair away from the table and standing. She started walking to the exit while Dante placed a few bills on the table.
