Total pages in book: 40
Estimated words: 36964 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 185(@200wpm)___ 148(@250wpm)___ 123(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36964 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 185(@200wpm)___ 148(@250wpm)___ 123(@300wpm)
“Governor Wescott, so nice of you to drop by my client’s home, which he purchased with his own money. You wouldn’t happen to know about his inheritance that’s suddenly missing, would you?” Boston’s body locks up behind me. I let out a small squeak. Holy shit. Surely, the governor wouldn’t take money that wasn’t his, right?
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Wescott tries to brush it off, turning around to face Sylvester. I wish he’d take a long walk off a short bridge.
“I bet. It was good to see you, Wescott. I’m sure we’ll be seeing more of you, too.” Sly shrugs his shoulders and takes a step closer until Boston’s father has no other choice but to walk by, and with the space Sylvester is taking up, it’s Wescott who has to squeeze by.
“You’re on my radar, Sterling. Watch your back. Boston, I suggest you leave New York, take your trollop with you, and never return.” Well, then, I’ll give him an A for effort. Can’t say that’s been used on me in the past month or so. These men are something else.
“I do believe you just made a threat. Probably not your wisest move, with witnesses are all around. The governor running for presidency and all,” Sly inserts. Wescott must get the memo. His mouth is firmly shut. He should probably see about gluing his lips together permanently. Everyone watches as he walks away.
“Well, that was interesting. I guess both our fathers are rays of sunshine on a cloudy day,” I joke to lighten the mood.
“Always a pleasure, Amelie,” Sly says.
“We won’t have to deal with either of them much longer, beautiful,” Boston whispers along the shell of my ear. “Amelie, meet everyone. Everyone, Amelie, the mother of my child and my fiancée.” This time, it’s me spinning around. No way did he just tell me I’m going to marry him.
“Boston!” A chorus of laughs and awes sound behind me as I watch as he drops to one knee, ring in hand.
“This isn’t how I was planning to ask you to marry me, but now is the best time. My family is with us. They know how much we love one another. Amelie, marry me.” It’s still not a question, more of a statement. I don’t care. I’m already nodding, eyes full of tears, and he’s back on his feet, arms around my body, hugging me while picking me up, lips locked with mine, celebrating while our friends do the same surrounding us.
TWENTY-SIX
Boston
“You okay after what went down?” Parker asks from across the table. They came inside, we talked a bit, did our introductions, then Amelie demanded real food. The snack tray I had put together before we landed wasn’t cutting it, and I know the mother of my child. It was time for food, carbs preferably.
“I am. More pissed that every male thinks it’s okay to call a woman a demoralizing name. Twice now I’ve had to keep my hands to myself. It’s fucking annoying.” Noah would have spun it in a way in order to rip money off me. My father would slander the hell out of me and bring Four Brothers into the mix. No one would win.
“You’re doing well. Let Sly take care of the rest. It’s better to stay under the radar, like we did not long ago,” Ezra says.
“If anyone is going to kick that cocksucker’s ass, it’s going to be me. I’ve got not one single thing to lose.” Theo, our usual voice of reason, is itching for a fight. Either that or he needs to get laid.
“I’ve got it under control. You four jackasses keep your panties out of a twist. My office is working on something. Once we have a solid game plan, we’ll meet up.” Sylvester states.
“We’re not leaving until Monday, you all want to guys want to get together tomorrow, meet at the gym,” I tell them.
“Nessa is working tomorrow.” Parker isn’t one to leave the house or office unless Vanessa is at work or she drags him out from his cave.
“That will work. Millie does account shit first thing in the morning, so make it early.” Ezra is much like Parker and me, driving her to the coffee shop, making sure she’s safely inside and an employee is there with her.
“I’ll be there,” Theo rounds out. We each start our own conversations. Sylvester getting my attention.
“Congrats, brother, you deserve it,” he tells me as the waiter and waitress set down the bowls of salads, baskets of bread sticks, and trays of pizza. The restaurant was the women’s choice. They each wanted something different, but they finally came up with a plan and decided on a little Italian pizzeria down the street from our homes. The food is good, the service is impeccable, and most importantly, there isn’t a wait.