Julian cleared his throat. “Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that.”
“Let me try to take a stab at it. You’re going to introduce another woman into the mix,” Aiden guessed. “How about a Latina? I heard they’re feisty in bed.”
Julian rolled his eyes. “No, it’s not like that.”
“Are you and Milo going to duel at dawn? If that’s the case, I will not be your second, no offense.”
“Offense taken,” Julian commented. “What happened to brothers for life, man?”
“I’m too old for this shit,” Aiden retorted, shoving a mouthful of fries into his mouth. Julian took a handful and paused, wondering how Aiden was going to react to the news.
So far, he’d been amused but silent, voicing his surprise every so often, but beyond that, Julian wasn’t really sure if he was on Julian’s side, or secretly waiting for the whole thing to fall apart.
In any case, he wouldn’t be surprised if Aiden was the latter, given his rather stoic view on love, and he couldn’t say he blamed him. From the get go, it seemed as if everyone had expected the relationship to fail, convinced that it spelled doom in its infancy stages.
Now, even as a full-fledged relationship, their odds were, apparently, not much better. Milo knew the statistics, had often spouted them himself, in an attempt to get people to stop trying to set him up, ranting about divorce rates, and the general misery of it all.
Back then, he would’ve laughed if anyone had sat him down and told him he’d be in a loving relationship with two other people, one of whom was a man, and the other the love of his life.
Yes, it sounded like the opening scenes of some weird ass rom com, even to him, but it was his life, and he was ridiculously happy, more than a man ought to be, and he had no regrets.
With or without the support of his loved ones, he intended to go through with it, but he really hoped that Aiden had his back on this because he couldn’t imagine going through it without his best man by his side.
“You’ve been saying that since college,” Julian pointed out, traces of amusement lingering in his tone. “You’re only as old as you feel.”
“Fine. I feel sixty. You happy now?”
“Then you’re up way past your bedtime,” Julian commented, pretending not to notice when Aiden shot him a murderous look, one that could’ve turned any solid object into liquid, a puddle before his very eyes.
“Screw you, Banner,” Aiden replied, plastering a fake smile on his lips.
“Getting senile in your old age, aren’t you?” Julian continued, ignoring his comment altogether.
Aiden reached for his burger and smothered it in ketchup, adding a good dollop of mustard for good measure, the entire concoction spilling out of the bun and onto his plate. He opened his mouth and took a huge bite, muttering something under his breath.
“I don’t speak food,” Julian replied.
Aiden swallowed. “I said, what’s the news? If you haven’t added a fourth person into the mix that is.”
“I’m engaged.”
Aiden’s mouth fell open, the sandwich halfway up. The burger slipped out and plopped onto his plate, unusually loud in the middle of the pub. His brows were drawn together, confusion plastered across his features, his mouth opening and closing several times, a fish trying to breathe on land.
“Eh?”
“I said I’m engaged,” Julian repeated.
“To be married?”
“No, to be executed. Yes, to be married. What other kind of engaged is there?” Julian asked, watching his friend’s expression carefully. Half of him wanted to burst into snickers, filing away the comical face for later.
First, he needed to give Aiden time to process the news.
“To Olive?” Aiden asked. “And Milo?”
“Well, no. Just to Olive.”
“How does Milo feel about it?”
“He’s engaged to her, too,” Julian added, reaching for his burger. He cursed under his breath when his fingers touched the hot plate and drew back, blowing on it. Hesitantly, he used a napkin to turn it around and huffed, his stomach growling in protest.
Gingerly, he touched his tongue to the tip and relaxed, taking a big bite and chewing thoughtfully. Seated in front of him, Aiden struggled to process, his eyes blinking rapidly, chest rising and falling, but his movements seemed stunted, in some kind of drunken stupor.
“Wait, so let me get this straight. You and Milo are engaged to the same person? So, the three of you will get up in front of a priest or whatever and say I do?”
“I doubt a priest will agree to marry us,” Julian disagreed. “Even the more progressive types would probably be against it, but the general idea is to get married yes, exchange vows, and all that jazz.”
“Humph,” Aiden commented, lowering his sandwich and dropping it onto his plate. “Well, I’ll be damned. This is, by far, the strangest thing I’ve ever heard, man. How is it going to work?”
“We’ll work out the details later,” Julian informed him, waving his concerns away. “It really shouldn’t be an issue since we’re all on the same page.”
“Your kids are going to have so many questions,” Aiden muttered, shaking his head in amusement. “So, you’re both the groom, huh? So, you’re like a brother husband now.”
Julian waited for Aiden to finish tearing into him, letting his friend have his fun because he knew that someday, soon, he would have his chance for revenge, and payback was a bitch.
“I don’t think there’s a term for it,” Julian answered, vaguely.
“I am not a divorce lawyer, and you can’t pay me enough to get in the middle of that shit,” Aiden announced. “Just getting this out there right now.”
“I know you’re not a divorce lawyer. By the way, how’s that high-profile case you were working on?”
“Celebrities can be so fucked up, man. I don’t even know why I agreed to this job,” Aiden mumbled. “How’s the corporate world?”
“Same old.” Julian shrugged, reached for the dressing and squeezed a generous amount out, adding to the side, so he could dip his fries. Aiden looked up, his eyes fixed on something in the distance then froze, all the blood draining from his face.
Julian frowned and turned in his seat, spotting a blonde heading their way.
She stopped at their table, and Aiden went still, staring at her as if she was a specter, the ghost of Christmas present.
“Dixie?” Aiden whispered, his voice barely carrying through.
About the Author
Henley Maverick lives in Northern California with her husband and fur baby, and when she's not writing, she's reading, shoe shopping, or at the beach. Feel free to reach out to her on Instagram @authorhenleymaverick.
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Also by Henley Maverick
Stuck with the Mountain Man
Expose
Just One Night FREE on Amazon, iTunes, B&N and Kobo
Always
The Lust Duet: Untamed and Unbroken
Seduction
Royally Addicted
Love Affair with the Billionaire
Forbidden Lessons
Second Chances
Spark
Right Reasons
Attraction: A MFM Menage Romance
The Doctor and the Teacher
The Billionaire’s Second Chance
Love Affair with the Billionaire’s Brother
Billionaire
Baby
Betrayal
Sneak Peek
Billionaire, Moxley and Sawyer’s story and the first in the Billionaire Boys series, is out now!
Chapter 1
Moxley
He hated traffic with every fiber in his being, with the fire of a thousa
nd burning signs, destroying everything in their path until nothing’s left but ashes.
Actually, wait, hate wasn’t strong enough for how he felt; the domino effect of traffic leading him to somewhere was something he despised even more.
Loathed was better, and it packed an extra kind of punch, the kind reserved for situations like this.
He was going to be late.
With both hands firmly on the steering wheel, Bon Jovi blasting through the car’s speakers, he tried to relax, to think of something other than the fact that he was not going to make it on time.
His brother, Phoenix, was going to have his head.
On a pike.
Displayed on the front gates for the entire company to see, medieval style, and he couldn’t even say he’d blamed him. After all, it was entirely his fault that he was running late, or at least the redhead that he left in bed this morning.
Being CEO of Denton Enterprises offered him many perks, cars, money, and the attention of a rotating plethora of beautiful and charming women, but unfortunately, it didn’t offer him any kind of immunity when it came to his siblings. Either of them.
At the end of the day, though he sat at the head of the table, they each owned controlling shares in the company, ensuring each and every one of them had an equal amount of power and influence.
A smart move on his father’s part, recognizing that he didn’t want his children to be at each other’s throats. Instead, he made sure that, business-wise at least, they were united in a common goal, seeing the company flourish, a dragon among men.
Naturally, it hadn’t all been smooth sailing, far from it. In fact, it had taken them entirely too long to be able to agree on which direction the company should be taking once their father stepped down as CEO.
As the oldest, Moxley had trained his whole for it, the moment he would step up and take his rightful place as the leader and face of the company, so he’d been shocked when his siblings didn’t fall into line, preferring to have an active role rather than a quiet one.
Moxley loved his siblings; it was never about that, but it didn’t mean he wanted to run a company with them, not when the three of them were as different as night and day. Luckily, Indiana seemed to gravitate more towards a quiet role, only pitching in when something was big whereas Phoenix had decided on a more hands-on approach, making his presence in the company known, generally a thorn in Moxley’s side, often acting like an insufferable know it all.
What was the saying?
Business made for strange bedfellows.
He drummed his fingers against the wheel and checked the watch, letting out a stream of colorful curse words as he pressed his fingers to the pedal, hoping for some kind of miracle to get there on time.
As things stood, it was highly unlikely especially with the cars coming to a complete stop. Soon enough, he had to slow his car down, his knuckles turning white with effort. He heaved a deep breath and pried his fingers away, a hot blast of air blowing through him.
Moxley frowned and hit the button, allowing the car to make a swishing noise as the cover came back up, encasing him, so he wasn’t exposed to the heavy smog settling over the city.
Around him, people were at their wit’s end, pressing their hands to the honk and refusing to release, a cacophony that rose and swell, so he had to turn up the music to drown it out.
“Elisabeth.”
“Mr. Denton,” Elisabeth greeted, her smooth voice filling up the spaces in his car, soft and alluring. “How may I help you?”
“Can you please inform my brother that I’m stuck in traffic and will be running late?”
“Of course, Mr. Denton. I’ll also have your coffee ready for you by the time you’re out,” Elisabeth added, practically purring.
He wasn’t under any delusions regarding his assistant’s intentions. To her credit, she didn’t try to hide her true nature when it came to him, taking every opportunity available to throw herself at him, staying late in the office and finding excuses just to touch him.
It was flattering, and she was incredibly attractive, but he made it a point not to get involved with anyone he worked with, bypassing all the unnecessary drama altogether.
“Maybe a muffin, too,” Moxley mused.
“Aren’t you supposed to be staying in shape?” Elisabeth asked, thinly veiled distaste coloring her tone.
“Yes, I am, but one can’t hurt. Blueberry, please. Thank you, Elisabeth.”
With that, he hung up, not wanting to hear the derision and judgment in her tone. Elisabeth was great at her job, positioning herself, so she was indispensable to him, but it didn’t mean she didn’t get under his skin.
Granted, she knew how to reign it in, observing the warning signals and backing off when she needed, but still. He had too much on his plate, and the last thing he wanted was to add an irate assistant to the list, on top of everything else.
Today’s meeting had been a long time coming, one of the few things the three could actually agree on. Between Phoenix’s practicality, and Moxley’s big dreams, it hadn’t been easy, and it was Indiana who suggested it, knowing exactly what to do to bring her brothers together.
It was time to expand, so Denton Enterprises was no longer just a software company, a multimedia conglomerate with ties in every major market. Now, it was time to take it a step further and take a plunge, a leap of faith into the unknown.
Publishing.
A risky but lucrative endeavor, one that promised to be incredibly fruitful should it pan out. Unfortunately, they hadn’t been able to nail the right PR person until now.
She better be damn good.
***
The tires screeched against the pavement, and he leaped out, flinching as the gleamed in front of him, casting long shadows across the floor, all towering metal. He tossed the keys to the valet, his jacket thrown carelessly over his arm. He flew past the front doors, greeting several people on his way, his eyes narrowing in on the elevator.
Almost there. Come on, step on it.
His shoes slapped against the marble, echoing loudly, gaining the attention of several people who craned their necks to look, surprised to see the CEO tearing past them like a tornado, possessed in his frenzy.
Later, he’d probably laugh about it, but for now, he needed to cover the distance, and he only had a few seconds to do it. He was going as fast as his legs allowed, long strides, but it wasn’t enough.
Clusters of people were spread out, making it harder for him to navigate as he weaved in and out of them, the din of conversation barely registering as anything more than background noise.
Finally.
The elevator was in sight, his heart thudding steadily inside his chest. Ahead of him, a petite blonde came out of nowhere and stepped onto the elevator, leaning forward to hit the button.
He waved his arms frantically, gesturing for her to hold the doors, but she glanced down, her phone in hand. Her fingers danced across the keyboard, and her blonde hair fell forward, covering half her face.
Look the fuck up. I just need you to hold them open for one second. Jesus!
Adrenaline flooded through him, pushing him the last few steps, close enough he could almost feel the whoosh, the familiar ping as the elevator doors closed behind him, briefcase and jacket tow.
In slow motion, he watched, eyes wide as saucers as the doors began to close, his window of opportunity rapidly slipping him by. He skidded to a halt just as they swung shut, barely avoiding a head-on collision.
Moxley made a low frustrated noise into the back of his hand and raked his other through his hair, making it stand up in out of control messy strands instead of the careful mess he was going for.
At this point, he didn’t care because he was running out of options, and he could just picture his brother, a younger identical-looking version of him, tapping his feet impatiently, his mouth pressed into a line, and disapproval written all over his features.
All Phoenix needed was the steam coming out of his ears
, and the picture would be complete. He snorted in amusement as the image flitted through his mind then the smile fell from his face.
Okay, he could take the stairs.
He ducked his head to the side, mentally calculating the distance. Yes, it was true he kept in shape, making it a point to work out every day, regardless of how mentally exhausted he was, in part because it kept him healthy, and the other part was to blow off steam.
In the gym, it was just him and the machines.
He was not Moxley Denton, CEO of Denton Enterprises. Instead, he was just another man in track pants, shorts and a shirt, with sweat rolling down his body, and one goal in mind.
Fitness.
Most of all, he liked the calm that settled over him after he was done, with energy coursing through him, and his muscles straining with effort, the high wasn’t like anything else, and he enjoyed it immensely.
Yes, he was in shape, but no, he wasn’t stupid.
He’d never be able to make it up two hundred floors without crumpling to a heap once he finally made it to the top, and that’s if he made it that far. He was ambitious, but he was also realistic.
With that thought in mind, he scrapped the idea and jabbed the button for the elevator, leveling it with a dirty look, in the hopes that it would make somehow make the elevator go faster.
While waiting, he slid his jacket on and did up two buttons in the center, bringing the briefcase up to check on the papers. He spotted the tie left behind, a gift from his brother, no doubt and grimaced, pushing it away.
No, he was not going to put on that dog collar.
He was well aware that it was meant to make him look distinguished, a man in charge, who knew how to take control, but there were other days he could do that, and a piece of fabric around his neck just wasn’t going to cut it for him.
Phoenix would get over it because short of wrestling him to the ground and forcing it around Moxley’s neck, it just wasn’t going to happen.
Five minutes ticked by, agonizingly slow, each second stretching out, so it felt like an eternity, and he resisted the urge to jab the button repeatedly, knowing it would do nothing except aggravate him further.
Blazing: A Billionaire Boys MFM Menage novel Page 7
