by Piper Rayne
Ford: I would never allow my soon-to-be wife to meet me at a party. Especially one hosted by my parents.
My hand squeezes the phone before hammering out a message.
Me: Fine. See you in an hour. I’ll be waiting downstairs in my lobby.
I figured that would end our conversation, but the three dots appear again. I can’t imagine what else he has to say now.
Ford: Do you take me for a schmuck? I’ll come up.
Me: No need.
Ford: It’s going to be a long year if you fight me on everything.
Me: Fine. Do whatever. But I have to go if I’m going to be ready in time.
Ford: You might want to dig deeper into that box. If you were mine, you’d show up with a glow that shows you’re a very satisfied woman.
I drop the phone and ruffle through the tissue paper, finding a box with a vibrator inside.
Ford: I’ll take your silence as another thank you. See you in an hour.
I don’t bother responding, staring at this unusual gift from a man who barely knows me. How will I get through this year without sleeping with him? Ford is a gorgeous hockey player who obviously has more game than I gave him credit for. It’s almost as though I can feel the first fracture of my heart, knowing our breakup is inevitable.
I’ve just finished putting on my lipstick when my phone goes off. Shit, I forgot to tell Ricky that Ford is okay to come up.
I rush into my bedroom, answer the phone, and tell Ricky to send him up. Then I open the door and use the dead bolt to keep it slightly ajar so I can finish getting ready. As I’m switching a few things out in my purse, I hear Ford curse.
“You live in New York City, you do realize that?” A second later, the door shuts and the lock clicks into place.
“You were on your way up,” I say, coming out of my room carrying my shoes and handbag. “Just think, if something should happen to me, then you’re off the hook. You could mourn my death for the next year.”
“Morbid much?” he mumbles.
I emerge around the corner and stop so I can catch my breath. Ford stands in a suit that fits him like a glove. I’ve seen Ford in a suit plenty of times. After a hockey game where he didn’t take the time to blow-dry his hair, so it’s still a little damp on the edges. At functions or charity events with his family. He knows how to pull one off, but there’s something different about it tonight.
The suit is black, which is more conservative than he normally wears. He doesn’t wear a tie, but the top two buttons are undone with a suit jacket over top, buttoned at his waist. The gel in his hair shows off his golden tips.
“So she has legs,” he says, pulling me out of my stupor.
I look down at my burgundy dress that has long sleeves and bells out at my waist over my thighs. “Is that a compliment?”
“Sure, if you weren’t my date. Remind me next time to send a dress.” He walks around my apartment, his fingers brushing along the boxes.
Having him in my space is uncomfortable. His presence seems to fill the whole apartment. Although my apartment is nicer than I think I deserve to spend on myself, it probably looks like a shack to him.
“You’re not bringing all of this to Florida?”
Disregarding his question and his insults to my attire for the evening, I sit on the edge of a chair to put on my heels.
“Now those I could get on board with. Wear those and just those panties I got you.” He shifts. “I’m already half hard.”
“Good to know I don’t completely repulse you,” I say, standing and grabbing my handbag.
“Repulse me? Where did you get that idea?” He follows me to the door, reaching around me to grab the knob before I have a chance. His mouth is at my ear. “Remember, I’m your fiancé. You wait for me to open doors for you now.”
I close my eyes briefly from the rush of his hot breath on my neck and the shiver that courses through me. We file out of the condo and I lock up while he waits. We head down the hall, and every step he’s next to me feels weird somehow. I feel more aware of his presence than I ever have.
“Let’s circle back to the repulsive comment?” Ford says, reaching ahead of me again to push the elevator button, purposely giving me a stare.
There’s no one around. I don’t know why he cares right now.
“Clearly you don’t like my dress.”
His gaze sweeps over me. “I like the dress if we were going to church. You should show off your legs more often, cleavage would be nice, and in all honesty, shorter sleeves.” His nose scrunches. “Give a man a reason to give you his coat.”
I look into his eyes, lost for a moment in thought of us walking the streets of New York City and having him shrug out of his jacket and place it over my shoulders. Damn my unrealistic romantic side. “So you don’t like my dress. Like I said.”
We step into the elevator. I wait this time, allowing him to press the button for the bottom floor and he smiles at me as though I’m a quick study. Makes me want to knee him in the nuts.
He steps in front of me, barricading me against the wall of the elevator, caging me in with both hands on either side of me. I swallow past the dryness that coats my throat.
Then he inches even closer and lowers his voice. “You’re mistaking what I meant. You look gorgeous and I bet you look even more stunning in the lingerie I sent you, but it’s for selfish reasons that I want to send you a dress. I want the tease of a slit up your thigh or a deep V that shows just enough cleavage to drive me wild. It’s purely self-serving that I want you to show off what you have, rather than hiding it. Believe me, when you walked down that hall, I was anything but repulsed.”
Ding.
The elevator doors open and Ford’s fingers run down the length of my arm, securing my hand in his. We exit the elevator and I’m sure I must be as red as a tomato. All I can think of is that I want to hear what comes out of his mouth next.
“Have a great night, Miss Boyd.” Ricky waves at us.
“Thank you,” I mumble, offering him a smile.
The next thing I know, Ford is leading me into the back of a black SUV and it’s time for the show to begin.
But if that wasn’t part of the show, what the hell was it?
I file out of the black SUV and hold my hand out for Lena. There are no obvious witnesses, but being a Jacobs my entire life, I know eyes are everywhere.
Her legs emerge, and damn, I just can’t get enough of them. I always thought I was an ass man, but all I envision when I see her bare legs are them wrapped around me as I have her pinned to the wall.
Her soft hand slides into mine, and I help her out of the car and off the curb. I tell the driver I’ll call when we’re ready to leave.
“I’ll just get a c—”
I put my finger to her lips, leaning forward. “You’re forgetting already,” I whisper. “I’m not going to allow my fiancée to get in a cab at the end of the evening and go home to a dark apartment by herself.”
She lets out a breath. The same one she did in the elevator when I told her exactly what I thought about her dress and her in it.
This won’t be an easy night for Lena. She’s essentially going from being on the payroll to being one of us, even if my family already kind of treated her as one of their own. There will be a whole new level of scrutiny now. Women will judge her, and men will wonder what makes her so special to be the one who finally claimed me. She’s going to be cornered, sneered at, questioned, and talked about behind her back. I grew up with it, so my skin has toughened over the years, but Lena is like a freshly healed wound, her skin still thin and fragile.
“Mr. Jacobs.” Anessa nods at us, opening the door. “Miss Boyd, you look spectacular tonight.” Anessa winks at me, and I shake my head, leading Lena to the elevators.
“Hi, Anessa,” Lena says, stopping me with a firm tug on my hand. “What is Libby going as for Halloween?”
She knows her daughter, Libby?
Anessa smiles, looking both ways before allowing
the door to close and turning to us. “A unicorn. She loves them.”
“Who doesn’t?” Lena says. “I can’t wait to see the pictures.”
“I’ll make sure to grab lots. Have a good night, you two. I heard congratulations are in order.” Her gaze shoots to Lena’s left hand, who quickly slides it to her back.
Shit, I forgot earlier.
“Thank you. You know my dad, we better get up there.” I nod toward the elevators.
“Go. Enjoy your night.” She smiles as though nothing is amiss, but Anessa makes her living off of knowing what people want before they want it. Her attention to detail is the reason she’s the best doorperson in Manhattan.
“You too,” Lena says, waving with her hand that holds no engagement ring. Yet.
Once we’re secure in the elevator, I slide my hand into my pocket and pull out the ring I meant to give her at her apartment. Before I got distracted by imagining her in those heels with the bra and panty set I sent over. Her using the vibrator I sent along with it. Shit, I shake my head before my mind goes there again.
I take her left hand, resting my fingers lightly on her ring finger. “Lena Boyd, will you marry me?”
Her impatient gaze shoots to where the elevator is counting up the floors. “Just put the ring on.”
“Hey, I’m trying to be a gentleman here.” I place the ring at the tip of her finger.
She glances to the floor we’re on again. “Let’s not pretend this is anything but fake.”
“You’re no fun.” I slide on the ring.
Damn, that three-carat cushion-cut diamond looks good on her. I would’ve gone bigger, but my gut told me she would think anything larger was too ostentatious. She admires it for a second, and I relish her smile as she watches it sparkle under the lights. If this wasn’t fake, I would have pinned her to the wall by now.
“You didn’t have to get anything so big. Now I’m scared I’ll lose it.”
I shake my head. “Would Ford Jacobs get his soon-to-be wife a chip of a diamond? Hell no. And it’s insured.”
She nods. “Thank you.”
I bring my hand down to rest on the small of her back, stepping into her. She tries to shift away, but my hand molds to her hip, tightening to keep her in place. The elevator dings and the doors slide open. Moving my mouth by her ear, I whisper, “Showtime, wifey.”
We step off and I straighten my back. Hell, I could pull this off in my sleep, but Lena looks pale and about ready to vomit.
“Trust me.” I take her hand and walk us into the wolf’s den.
All eyes shoot to us. I expected this, so I usher Lena casually to the bar.
“She’ll have an Aperol spritz, and I’ll have a whiskey neat.”
The bartender nods and I grab a tip from my pocket, ready to put it in the jar.
“How did you know?” she asks.
I chuckle. “There isn’t much I don’t notice, Lena.”
In all truth, I’m lying. Imogen told me how much they’ve been enjoying them lately.
“Bullshit,” she says. “I’ve never had one around you before.”
“Are you sure about that?” I tilt my head.
Then she does the cutest thing ever. She nibbles on her bottom lip while her eyes squint as though she’s going over all the times we’ve been around each other.
The bartender puts the Aperol spritz down in front of her as Imogen walks up to join us.
“Good choice.” Imogen holds up her own drink that matches Lena’s to cheers her.
Lena looks at me and shakes her head.
“I can’t tell you all my ways,” I say, shrugging and accepting my whiskey before putting money in the glass jar. “What’s up, little sis? Who’s this?”
I eye the guy next to her like any big brother would. Tattoos up his neck, piercing in his lip, and he’s dressed in a leather jacket and black combat boots. Not a bad-looking guy though.
“This is Jay. He’s an artist.” She smiles widely.
I sip my whiskey and nod. “Nice to meet you. I’m Ford.”
Imogen puts her arm through Jay’s and points. “This is my older brother. He plays on the Florida Fury.”
The guy looks unimpressed, but I’m gonna take a guess that he doesn’t follow hockey.
“And this is his fiancée, Lena. But they’re announcing it tonight, so shh.”
His eyes fall over Lena so intently she shifts her body closer to me. I switch my drink into my other hand and put my arm around her. She stiffens before she relaxes in my hold.
“Nice to meet you,” I say, not really meaning it.
Jay looks around. “Nice place. A little stuffy.”
“I’ll be sure to tell my parents.” I eye Imogen with a bored expression because we both know she’s using this guy to get attention from my father. She’s always had middle child syndrome. Thought she was the forgotten child. She says she wants to take over Jacobs Enterprises, but I know my sister—she doesn’t. She just doesn’t know what she wants to do with her life yet. She got access to her trust fund when she graduated college. She has money and time on her side, so why rush?
“Who’s that handsome young man?” My Aunt Claudia comes over, kissing me on the cheek. She eyes Lena. “Are you going to introduce me to your friend?”
“This is Lena Boyd.”
Unfortunately, my great-aunt Claudia is starting to forget things, so her forehead wrinkles as though she’s never seen Lena before.
“You know her, Aunt Claudia, she’s our family PR rep,” Imogen says.
Lena offers her hand. “It’s okay, I think I’ve only met you once or twice. Pleasure to see you again.”
They shake hands, then Aunt Claudia looks at me. “Girlfriend?” she mouths as though no one else can see her.
“Yeah.” If I tell my aunt now that Lena is my fiancée she’ll have the news spread throughout the party in two minutes flat and my dad won’t get his big moment to announce it to everyone.
A huge smile lands on her lips. “I knew you’d come back from the dark side. Your mom says the baby is with a nanny tonight?”
I nod. “She is.”
“You need to come home.”
“Or you come down to Florida,” I say with a wink.
She waves me off. “The heat makes me sweat under my boobs.”
I guess it’s clear I get my sense of humor from my mom’s side.
Lena chokes but recovers. “Sorry, went down the wrong pipe.”
“Aunt Claudia!” Imogen exclaims.
“I like her. My ballsac gets all sweaty in the heat too,” Jay adds, and I catch Lena cringe.
“Well, I guess I’ve just gotten used to it.” I shrug, wanting to move on.
She smiles and glances at Imogen and Jay. Her eyes narrow. “Imogen, you need to grow up.” And she walks away.
Imogen balks. “I hate this family.”
“You know you don’t.” I give her a light shove on the shoulder.
Just as I see the trace of a smile, my dad approaches.
“Don’t you two look happy,” Dad says, ruining my mood. “I think we’ll make the announcement now. People are asking a lot of questions.”
“Happy Birthday, Mr. Jacobs.” Lena smiles at him.
“Thank you, Lena, but it will be Eli from here on out. You’re going to be family, after all.”
He ushers us to the center of the room, then grabs a fork from the appetizer display and taps his glass that holds the same drink as mine. What can I say? The apple fell close to the tree, then rolled away.
The waitstaff appears with glasses of champagne, handing every guest a flute.
“I have an announcement to share. Tonight, I’m blessed with the best birthday gift.” My dad’s voice carries through the large room.
I tense, every muscle from my neck down to my toes tightening. After this, there’s no going back. I look at Lena and she’s staring at the floor, shifting her stance.
Lowering so my lips reach her ear, I say, “Own this. Sell our h
appiness. Hand on my chest.” I put my arm around her waist, tugging her toward me.
She’s just as stiff as I am, but there’s no going back now. She tentatively puts her hand on my stomach, over my suit jacket.
“Ford not only blessed me with a grandchild this year, but he’s giving me another daughter. They’ve been sneaking around for a while behind our backs.”
My jaw clenches through my father’s lie.
“But Ford has proposed and Lena has accepted his hand in marriage. A wedding is on the horizon.” Dad raises his flute in the air. “To the happy couple. Welcome to the family, Lena.”
He holds out his arms and Lena steps away from me and into his. Then my mom comes over and gives us fake congratulations. Morgan, Imogen, and Jay follow shortly before all the party guests line up to offer their best wishes.
Once it’s over, my breathing finally slows, as though the moment of impact is over and it’s all smooth sailing from here. That is, until my dad taps his glass with that damn fork again and everyone in the room starts in on a “kiss, kiss, kiss” chant.
A strangled cry comes from Lena next to me, but as I told myself this afternoon, we’re selling this because we have no other option. I tug her toward me with force so that her hands land on my chest. She really is the perfect fit. I put my finger under her chin, inching it up to look at me, then I bend and capture her lips.
When she doesn’t move, I murmur, “Open for me.”
Her lips soften, and I lick the seam. Her hands slide up my chest and wrap around my neck, bringing her breasts flush against me. Our kiss is languid and lulling and heart-thumping goodness. She tastes like citrus and I find that I can’t get enough.
Her tongue grazes mine and passion threatens to overflow from inside me. To take her, to have her, to claim her. By the time we stop, I think we’re both mystified as to what just happened, but we smack on our smiles at the applause in the room.
