Page 64 of Ms. Fortune

My mother gets misty-eyed listening to Sophie, and I’m reminded that my father refused to sell their house after she was kidnapped. My heart aches for her and my dad, knowing things could have been so different between them if he had just done that one thing for her. It makes me appreciate Brandon’s actions even more.

“I know,” I say quietly with a nod. “I know.”

All of these aren’t things I don’t know about Brandon. I know how much he cares about me because he shows me every day and in a million different ways. Selling his house is just one of a dozen grand gestures he’s made to prove his love for me. And I don’t take any of it for granted.

So, I tell him that night. And I don’t stop saying it to him whenever I get the chance. I tell him first thing in the morning, the last thing before we fall asleep, before we hang up a call, or as one of us leaves or returns, and the best time to say it is whenever I damn well feel like it. Out of the blue and in the middle of a conversation is the greatest because it always throws him off his game. More often than not, that will lead to incredible sexy times, but that’s just a bonus. I was stupid for holding back the words because it makes me feel good to tell him what he means to me. Yes, showing him is most important, but saying it and hearing it confirms it. I don’t ever want him to doubt us, or me, or himself. This love is real.

Three Months Later

“Be careful with that. It’s an original Charles Rennie Mackintosh,” Dennis, Brandon’s interior designer, says to the movers, carrying a gorgeous painting of a Fae woman standing among flowers. He has excellent taste, not only in art but in furnishings too. He’s duplicating the feel of Brandon’s New York apartment in the house that we’re now going to share. I was more than happy to hand over the reins and let him do his thing with the house. As long as Brandon and I are together, I don’t care what the place looks like, but it’s a bonus that it will look nice.

Last week I said my final goodbyes to my life in Sacramento, transferred my clients to colleagues I trust, sold most of my furniture, and broke the lease on my townhouse to move in with Brandon. I think I knew deep down once I returned to Vegas to deal with my father’s estate that I was back for good.

Chelsie is ecstatic since I signed over our dad’s house to her. When I realized what had happened to my mother there and her reluctance to visit because of it, I knew I had to find somewhere else to live. Conveniently, Brandon is going through the same thing, and we can just meld our lives together for the same purpose. Well, there are other reasons too: mainly, we want to spend as much time together as possible when he’s in town. He's arranging for a satellite office of LC Consolidated to be established here in Vegas, so he won’t need to be in New York as often.

This house is a temporary stop, as Brandon wants to build another home along the Red Rock Canyon, this time including things I want, which is sweet, but I keep trying to tell him I’m not picky. I'm sure Dennis will be decorating that house too, and Brandon wants to get hands-on with the construction again. I can’t wait to see hot Brandon the Builder in action.

“I see Dennis hasn’t strangled any movers, so that’s a sign of a successful day.” I feel arms wrap around me and Brandon’s breath in my ear as I watch the finishing touches go into place. Art pieces are hung, and furniture is rearranged several times until Dennis is happy with everything.

“It was a near thing when they almost dropped your office desk a little while ago,” I chuckle, pulling his arms tighter around me. “I thought for sure we’d need to start a cemetery plot in the backyard.” I glance at my watch. “You’re early. Did you finalize the office space you were looking at?”

He squeezes me again, pressing his arousal against my backside, making my core instantly ache for him. I need to stop myself from reaching around to touch him with other people in the room.

“I did. And now I want to start christening every fuckable surface in the house with you as soon as possible.” The low growl in his throat sends my blood singing through my veins as my pulse quickens at his words. And suddenly, I want that too. I want that so bad; my anticipation crests, and I can’t take much more.

“Dennis!” I interrupt him instructing the movers for yet another change in the furniture placement, but I don’t step away from Brandon. I don’t think he’d let me move if I tried anyway. “That looks great just where it is. It’s perfect. Thank you so much for everything. Really, the whole house is fantastic. You’ve outdone yourself.”

His initial confusion turns to bashful modesty as the compliments are laid on thicker. I’m not lying. The house looks great. But he needs to leave it. Now. It ends up taking another entire half hour until we have the place to ourselves.

“Finally.” Brandon pulls me to him after seeing the last person out the door and gently presses his lips to mine, letting his lips linger as he smiles. His fingers are tracing a teasing line down the center of my back, his touch delicate.

I am not in the mood for delicate. Not after the provocative way he’s been tempting me for the last half hour surreptitiously in front of everyone. I reach down and firmly seize him with insistent fingers, making him gasp into my mouth, his smile widening. And those god-damned dimples do me in. The next thing I know, the inside of the front door is christened, the foyer echoing with our feverish cravings. And then the library, his office, and finally, our master bedroom.

“That was a decent opening salvo,” I say, running a finger down his chest and swirling a lazy circle around his belly button. He twitches under my touch, ticklish.

He raises an eyebrow. “That wasn’t enough for you?”

“It was a good start. But there’s a lot of house left.”

Chapter 43

WILD LOVE

BRANDON

Four Months Later

“You’re positive you want to do this?” I ask Normandy, my finger hovering nervously over the Enter key on my laptop.

She bites her bottom lip but nods. “Yes. Absolutely.”

I hit the key and take a deep breath, expelling it slowly. We’ve just applied for a marriage license. We’re getting married. Tonight.

Normandy proposed over dinner this evening. Actually, no, she didn’t ask. She told me, “We should get married.” And when I asked when, she earnestly said, “How about tonight?” So, here we are, applying for a marriage license online and making extremely last-minute arrangements. As neither of us has been married before, outside of the license part, we are like the blind leading the blind.

“I just texted Chelsie and Bianca to meet us at the chapel at eight, but I just gave them the address and didn’t say it was a wedding chapel. Just mentioned they might want to dress up a little.” She snickers to herself with a devious giggle as she scrolls her phone. “Can you text Sophie and your brother to meet us?” Watching her evil amusement at the situation pushes buttons in me I didn’t know I even had, and I’m almost beside myself that I will get to spend the rest of my life with this woman.

My brother Jon has been in town for about a week to visit; surprise, he’s about to be my best man. I text them both and confirm they can make it. Sophie guesses what might be happening, but I won't confirm or deny it. Normandy would have my head on a platter if I gave it away. Why we’re surprising anyone with this wedding is beyond me, but whatever the bride-to-be wants, she will get.

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