“Gretchen,” I sighed, wondering how to make her see the truth. There was only one thing that I could say. “You know that I love you, don't you?”
Gretchen stared up at me in surprise. “You do?”
“Yeah, baby. I love you,” I told her firmly. “More than you could even know.”
She stared at me for another moment and then smiled broadly. “I love you too,” she said quietly, almost shyly, as though there were anything left for either of us to be shy about. She bit her lower lip and then laughed a little. “So, we aren't just fucking anymore?”
I snorted and shoved her, almost succeeding in toppling her onto the sand. “I'll show you a good fucking when we get back home if you're going to have a mouth like that,” I told her.
“You'd better,” she said, a challenge in her eyes. Then, her expression softened a little and she gave me an uncertain look. “You aren't sorry that you came here?” she asked, clearly needing to hear it one more time.
“I'm honestly not at all sorry about it,” I told her, punctuating the words with a filthy kiss, which she eagerly returned.
“Okay,” she said breathlessly as we broke apart. “Okay, I'm glad to hear that.”
Epilogue
Christian
I groaned as Gretchen lightly shook my shoulder. I'd been up late the night before. I'd gotten caught up working on the boat out in the garage, and the next thing I'd known, it had been three in the morning, and I still hadn't gone to bed. Gretchen had to know that I'd gone to bed late, too, since she'd clearly stayed up waiting for me, she'd eventually fallen asleep with a book in her hands.
I'd come back to the room and found her like that, and I hadn't been able to hide a fond smile as I watched her. It seemed like every new day, every new caring gesture that she made, I loved her more, as though that were somehow possible. But she was so wonderful.
“Give me five more minutes,” I mumbled, turning my face into the pillow.
“But then your breakfast is going to get cold,” Gretchen said, and when I cracked an eye open, I saw that she had brought me breakfast in bed.
But of course she had because it was Sunday morning, and she always brought me breakfast in bed on Sunday mornings, just like I always cooked dinner for her on her days off. I always insisted that she didn't have to do that, but she liked doing it, and it wasn't like I was complaining about it.
I pushed myself up into a sitting position, surprised to see how late it already was. “One o'clock already?” I asked, baffled to see that.
“Yeah, you were asleep,” Gretchen said, smiling fondly at me. “I didn't have the heart to wake you up any sooner.”
“I slept well,” I admitted, stretching broadly.
“And how's the boat coming along?” she asked.
“Really well, actually,” I told her. “I think I'll have it ready to sail by the time summer starts.”
“Awesome,” she said. She slipped into bed next to me and pulled her tray over her lap as she cuddled up next to me. “You know, I am still worried that you're just going to sail away and disappear one of these days,” she teased.
“You know I wouldn't do that,” I said easily.
“Hmm,” was all Gretchen said, even though I knew she couldn't possibly think that anymore. She had finally stopped asking me if I regretted moving to Hawaii, and things had been going great between us over the past couple years.
“You're coming to the luau tonight, right?” I asked her, trying to sound nonchalant.
“What luau?” she asked, frowning at me.
I shrugged. “Mark told me about it,” I said. “You didn't hear about it from Mina?”
“No,” Gretchen said frowning. “I've been pretty busy with work lately, what with all the new clients that we've been taking on. I think I need to find another masseuse to take some of the work because Mina and I are pretty much booked solid!”
“I know,” I said. “I've missed seeing you lately.”
“You see me every evening,” Gretchen said, rolling her eyes a little, but she was smiling. “And every day off as well, with the rare exception of the days that Mina and I both take off.”
“I know,” I said. “But it's not enough.”
Gretchen laughed. “What about this luau tonight? What are we even celebrating, anyway?”
“Do you need a reason to celebrate to have a luau?” I asked, raising an eyebrow at her.
“Well, I guess not,” Gretchen said, giggling a little.
I shrugged again. “I don't know what it's about, I just know Mark told me about it, and he has his finger on the pulse here, so I'm sure there is one. You'll go with me, right?”
“Maybe you and Mark should just have a guy's night,” Gretchen suggested. “I have appointments tomorrow, nothing too early in the day because Mina said she'd take those, but even still.” She shook her head. “Honestly, I've been working a little too much lately, I think. I'm just tired. As fun as a luau sounds, I don't think I can make it.”
I sighed and lightly stroked the back of her neck. “I understand that,” I said. “I know just how hard you've been working, and your clients do as well. But don't you think we could have just one night of fun? I'm not saying that we have to stay out until late or anything like that, but maybe we could just go for an hour or two and then head home? I'm sure there are a lot of people there who'd like to see you and ask how the business is going, and you don't want to leave all the talking to Mina, do you?”
“No,” Gretchen admitted, grimacing a little. She sighed. “Fine, I'll go,” she finally agreed. “But just for an hour or two. And then I want to come straight back here and curl up on the couch with you to watch some shitty TV.”
“That's a deal,” I said, reaching out a hand so that we could shake on it. I grinned slyly at her. “Would you wear that pretty green dress that I love on you?” I asked.
Gretchen laughed. “Sure,” she said, blushing a little.
That night, when we got to the beach, Gretchen looked around in confusion, even more confusion than she'd sported when I insisted on “dressing up” a little, in khaki shorts and a green button-down shirt that matched her dress. Of course, it was nothing like the dressing up that I used to do in New York, but she'd grown pretty accustomed to seeing me in t-shirts by this point. I had to hide a grin.
“No one's here yet,” Gretchen said slowly, looking around. “Are you sure that Mark said there was going to be a luau?”
“Yeah,” I said, shrugging a little. “Maybe everyone's getting a late start since it's a work day. But come on, let's take a little walk down the beach. If we come back and no one's here, then we'll head home and have that TV date that I promised you.”
“Okay,” Gretchen said.
We ambled hand-in-hand down the beach, just on the line where the ocean met the shore. “It's still so beautiful out here,” I sighed as we walked along. “You know, I am so lucky to have met you and to have you in my life.”
Gretchen laughed a little. “I'm lucky too,” she said. “I never thought I was going to end up loving someone like you.”
“You are the sexiest, most beautiful, most talented woman that I know,” I continued. “When you want something, you get it. You constantly keep me on my toes. You have from the first day that I met you. That's what makes dating you so much fun. You've got a real spark to you. And I love that.”
Gretchen giggled. “What, are you trying to make me blush?” she asked.
“You're adorable when you blush,” I told her. “Honestly. I don't know what it is about it, but I love that you still get so shy around me sometimes, as though we haven't been intimately living together for the past couple of years. And I love hearing you giggle. It's cute.”
“Seriously, Christian, what's going on?” Gretchen asked, pulling me around to face her, looking searchingly up into my face.
I smiled gently down at her. “I'm just trying to tell you how much I love you, that's all,” I told her, steering her into walking again. We wer
e almost there.
“You don't have to-”
“Yes, I do,” I interrupted her. “I want to make sure that you know, every single day for the rest of your life, how special you are to me, and how much I love you. I want to wake up with you every morning, and I want to go to bed with you every night. I want to stay with you here in Hawaii, or wherever we end up living. I want to build a home and a life with you.” I turned to face her as I led her into the spot that Mark and I had chosen.
Then, I sank down on one knee, as Mark illuminated the fairy lights all around us, showing the elaborate flower trellises and other decorations that we'd set up.
“Gretchen Means, I would very much like for you to do me the honor of becoming my wife.”
Gretchen stared down at me, her hands up over her mouth. Then, she looked around at the decorations, and then back at me. “Did you…”
“Yes,” I told her. “I had a little help from Mark and Mina, but it was my idea.”
She shook her head and then laughed, reaching a hand down toward me and cupping my cheek. “Yes,” she said, the sound choked with emotion. “Yes, Christian, God, yes. I would be so lucky to be your wife.”
I smiled at her and slipped the ring out of its box, sliding it carefully onto her third finger.
“God, it's gorgeous,” Gretchen said, her fingers tracing the pattern of flowers, dotted with little diamond centers, which swirled around the ring.
“If you don't like it, we can return it and get you something else,” I told her. I hadn't been sure about the design. Something about it spoke to me.
“I love it,” Gretchen told me, reaching down to pull me to my feet. “And I love you too.” She leaned in to kiss me. As we kissed, cheering and clapping broke out around us, and I grinned.
Gretchen whirled toward the sound and blushed brilliantly as she realized that pretty much everyone that she knew was there. They'd been waiting off in the shadows, but they'd seen the whole thing. She turned back to me, laughing. “You did all of this?” she asked.
I nodded and shrugged. “I know how important everyone is to you here,” I told her. “They're your family. It was only right that they be here for this special night.”
“There isn't a luau tonight, is there?” Gretchen asked.
“There will be now,” I said. “But I was the one to organize it. You should also know that Mina has canceled all the appointments at the shop for tomorrow, so you don't have to worry about staying out late. And speaking of Mina-”
Mina threw herself into Gretchen's arms. “I'm so excited for you!” she cried. Then, she pulled away, grabbing Gretchen's hand. “Let me see the ring. Christian wouldn't let me see it before he gave it to you, even though I told him that I'm good at keeping secrets; I kept this whole thing a secret, didn't I? But he wanted you to be the first person to see it, other than him. And wow, that is pretty. It suits you too.”
“Congratulations, man,” Mark said, clapping me on the back as he joined our little group. “Seems like just yesterday I was picking you up at the airport.”
“Oh, come on, don't get all nostalgic already,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Plenty of time for that when we're old.”
“I'm going to file that comment away and make sure I get super nostalgic in my speech at the wedding,” Jeff told me, winking at Mina as he slipped an arm around her waist. “That is if I'm allowed to be part of the wedding.”
I rolled my eyes again. “You're going to be my best man, aren't you?” I asked him. “So, yeah, I think you might have to be there at my wedding.”
“Hey, I thought I was going to be your best man!” Mark said, laughing.
I shook my head. “Sorry man, I've already destroyed my friendship with my brother once; I don't need to do it again.” I grinned.
Gretchen threw her arms around me again, burying her face against my shirt. “You're the best,” she said.
“No, you are,” I told her teasingly. I looked around. “Now, I know you all want to congratulate our beautiful bride-to-be, but let's get this luau started!”
Later that night, it was just Gretchen and me again, walking down the beach. “That was the best night,” she told me quietly, twisting her fingers into mine.
“It was,” I agreed, just as quietly. I paused. “You know, I am glad to be here.”
“I'm glad that you're here too.”
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BILLIONAIRE’S SECRET BABIES
By Claire Adams
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2017 Claire Adams
Chapter One
Archer
I woke up before the sun and immediately got down on my knees to make my bed. In the Army, they taught me how to smooth down the top and tuck the ends underneath the mattress so that the bed was perfectly flat and stiff. It was so tight I could’ve bounced a nickel off it. When I was done, I stood up to inspect my work. A fleck of lint remained at the foot of the bed, sitting there like a scar on a beautiful face. I snatched it up and threw it into the trash before I hopped into the shower.
Everything in my world had to be perfect. I couldn’t tolerate uncertainties, and I refused to wait and see how things turned out, not with two boys to raise and a business to run.
It wasn’t just any business, either. Sans Contracting was a multi-billion dollar contracting firm. We worked closely with the Navy, providing them a never-ending stream of technological advancements for their aircraft. That meant steady, well-thought-out research and a diligent staff who could work miracles on a daily basis.
If the company couldn’t deliver consistent results, it would collapse. The Navy would pull our contracts, and we’d be left with nothing but an empty warehouse and a worthless pile of stock. The only way to keep things afloat was to maintain a strict measure of discipline in my life.
I pulled on a crisp white button-up, a jacket, and black slacks. Then I checked myself in the mirror to make sure I looked presentable. This wasn’t vanity. I hated worrying about my appearance, but as the old saying goes, the clothes make the man. I had to look the part if I wanted to inspire confidence in my staff and in my clients.
Still, my focus on image extended only so far. I kept my black hair short, almost buzzed on the top with a fade on the sides. The last thing I wanted to do was go to the hairdresser once a week to get dolled up like royalty.
It didn’t matter. I left an impression on everyone I met, whether for good or for bad. It was my eyes that did it. People said they looked unnatural, like green fire set against my mocha-colored skin. I used to play with people whenever I first met them. I’d train my eyes on them with a serious look and watch as they shifted around uncomfortably or shut down altogether. That trick was partially responsible for my success. A man with the ability to disarm people with a single glance could easily get ahead.
When I was done getting dressed, I grabbed my phone off the nightstand and called my nanny, Mona.
“I’m downstairs,” she said. “I’ll be up in a moment.” She hung up. The woman was in her eighties and still managed to get up at four in the morning.
I was almost ready for work when I saw her walk up quietly to my bedroom door. She was short and round, her white hair in a bun. A scarlet broach held the collar of her black dress together.
“You can come in,” I said, once I’d finished tying my shoes.
“I checked on the boys. They’re still sleeping.”
“You didn’t wake them up?” I asked as I gathered my things.
“No, they’re fine.”
I began walking downstairs. “Was Abel’s forehead warm?”
She followed me. “Not that I could tell. I think he got over the worst of it yesterday afternoon.”
“Let me know if he gets a fever.”
“You don’t have anything to worry about,” she said as I walked out the front door.
I wasn’t the kind of man who just left his children with anybody—quite the opposite. An Olympic gold medalist wouldn’t meet my standards, but Mona did. She was the only person I’d ever trusted my children with, and I couldn’t imagine using anyone else.
A hulking black luxury sedan waited for me outside. I got in the back seat and motioned for the driver to get moving. The car had lots of room, so I wouldn’t have to feel claustrophobic and could move around comfortably.
I wanted to drive myself, but that was a silly dream. My life was too demanding. Usually, by the time I got to the car I was already swimming in emails and phone calls, all of them requiring my urgent attention. I could either work or drive. I chose work.
Most of my company’s projects were done on the naval base. I hated the place. It felt like entering a fascist dictatorship, but there was an airstrip and a place for my research and testing departments to work. They were the most important departments. What they did could make or break the company, so I kept them close and did my best to keep tabs on what they were doing.
When we arrived at the base, we passed through a series of security gates where they checked our IDs before letting us in. To the east, I could see the yellow glare of the sun rising over the airplane graveyard, where they kept miles and miles of historic models, all of them rotting in the field. I would’ve killed to get a look at them and tinker around inside, but access was restricted.
It didn’t matter. I barely had time to see what my people were working on. I couldn’t spare a moment to indulge my interest in old planes, even if they would grant me access. Oddly enough, today was different. My phone hadn’t beeped once, so I had a few free moments of silence on the ride over.
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