The engine purrs as Presley slides the Mercedes up Fenton’s driveway. The headlights bounce off the stucco front and I see the curtains by the front door rustle.
“Thanks, Pres!” I shout, jumping out and slamming the door behind me. She honks as I round the front and starts to back down the driveway.
Quicker than I’ve ever sprinted in my life, my heartbeat matching my steps, I fly around the garage and up the front steps. The door opens as soon as I reach the top and I fling myself, breathless, into the arms of the man of my dreams.
He pulls me in tight, nestling his face in my hair. My face burrows into his white t-shirt. I feel at home. Like everything in my life has finally come together.
We just stand in the entryway, locked together, absorbing the moment. There are so many things I want to say, but the moment is so pure, so perfect that I’m afraid to spoil it with words that I’m sure won’t come out right.
“Fenton,” I whisper, pulling away just far enough to see his face. His eyes are creased, his forehead marred with the stress of dealing with everything these past few weeks. I run my hand down the side of his face and when he leans into it, I break a little bit inside. “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be.” His tone is crisp, his words definite. He lowers his face so he can peer inside my soul. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”
“No, I do. I should’ve believed you.”
He chuckles, the sweet sound of amusement making me grin despite my guilt. “You should’ve. But,” he says, lifting his chin when I start to respond, silencing me, “I understand why you didn’t.”
“It was all too much, you know?”
His eyes, already heavy with stress and lack of sleep, crinkle even more as he grins. “It was. And now it’s over.”
Tears spring to my eyes, blurring my vision. “I can’t thank you enough for going after Brady. You brought him back to us, Fenton.”
“It was my responsibility to do that. I’d been trying to do it since the day he was taken. You have to believe that.”
“Brady believes that.”
“He’s a good man.”
“So are you. And Fenton, I believe that too,” I whisper. “I want you to know I can never repay you, but I’ll prove to you how much I appreciate what you’ve done and how sorry I am for not believing you. I have so much to make up to you and I will. I promise.”
He takes my hand and leads me into the living room. We sit on the sofa, the moon hanging low in the sky. The only light comes from it, swamping the room with a hazy glow. There’s no sound, just our breathing.
“How’s he feeling?” Fenton asks, his eyes shining. “He was a little sore on the plane.”
“He’s going to be fine,” I laugh. “He’ll get checked out again tomorrow, but he’s a doctor, you know.”
“I saw something about that,” he winks.
“I told him about you and I . . .”
Fenton’s face darkens. “You did?”
I nod.
“What did you say?”
“I just told him I’d met you and didn’t know who you were. And then I found out and was pretty shitty to you. But somehow, in the meantime, I kinda fell in love with you. I do love you, Fenton. I’m not saying I want to marry you tomorrow or anything,” I grin, making him laugh, “but I want to be here for you in the way you were for me. I want to make you laugh and smile and go with you on your trips and wear bikinis and make you mad so you’ll remind me who my man is.”
“No bikinis without me. That’s a deal breaker,” he says, trying to look stern.
“But I want to try this with you. For real this time. Starting over, me and you. Nothing lurking out there we haven’t said, no surprises. A real try.”
He laughs and drags me onto his lap. His hands lock around my waist and I can’t help the silly smile on my face as I look into his eyes.
“You make me believe in love,” he says, his voice soft. “I can see years of being together, taking trips, maybe even starting a family someday. I’ve never felt that way before. I’ve always felt like being with someone would be a compromise, that I would have to give up being me to be in that relationship. But with you, I want to do that. I want to make sure we figure this out so we are both happy. Together.”
I press my lips against his, the softness reducing me to a heap of mush. Our mouths fit together like they were made for one another, the dips and curves of our lips melding into the others’ perfectly.
“I don’t want you to have to give up being you for anything, especially me. I like you just the way you are.”
“I like me better when I’m with you.”
“Me too, Fent.”
“And I like when you call me that.”
Tossing my head back, I let out a laugh. For the first time in so long, happiness pours from my heart unbridled. When I look at him again, his face is cracked with a smile of his own. I kiss him once more for good measure and because I can. Because I’ve missed doing it.
“Will you stay with me tonight?” he asks.
“Yes. Presley left. So unless you’re going to take me home, I have no other choice.”
“Good thing because it really wasn’t a question. I wasn’t letting you leave,” he winks.
“I’m supposed to work tomorrow afternoon, but I’m going to call and see if they’ll give me the day off. I really want to spend the day with my family if I can. I know Brady has a bunch of things to do tomorrow,” I yawn, glancing at the clock. “Or today, I mean. But I’d like to hang out with him some if he’s able.”
Fenton nods, his face sobering. “I have a few things tomorrow afternoon too.”
“Oh, yeah? Work?”
“Sort of.”
The way he says it piques my interest. It’s in his tone, the way he clearly didn’t mean for it to be a lead-in for a follow-up, which is exactly why I want more information.
“Such as?”
“So nosey.”
“Like you’re surprised.”
He glances away from me, his jaw ticking. “Mandla is now defunct.”
“What? What’s that mean?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Oh, it does matter!” I say, taking his chin and pulling his gaze towards me. “What’s going on, Fenton?”
“I didn’t have authority to go in after Brady. There are laws about those types of things and I broke quite a few of them.”
“Fent . . .”
“Yeah. So in my little meeting tonight with the FBI, I was told to start shutting it down.”
“Oh, no,” I say, pulling him in close for a change. “I am so sorry, babe.”
“Don’t be.” He pulls back, the tilt of his lips catching my attention. “I mean, I hate it. It was my mother’s thing. But you know, I ran that company out of obligation, really. Because it was the right thing to do. Don’t get me wrong—I wanted to do the things I was doing. But it had become more of a routine thing than an intentional thing. I need to do things with the right spirit, like my mother preached, with a servant’s heart. And I wasn’t doing that, anyway. Not really.”
“I still feel terrible you lost Mandla.”
He leans back on the sofa, putting some distance between us. He studies me in his way. “I think my mother would approve.”
“Do you really?”
“Uh huh. She would’ve wanted me to do what’s right for family, for the one I love. And I did that. So, by all accounts, this was the right thing to do—losing Mandla or not.”
I shouldn’t smile, but I do. “I love you.”
“I know.”
I roll my eyes, making him laugh.
“What other questions do you have before I take you into my bedroom and ravage you?”
“Just one more,” I say, my body humming at his words. I have to ask the one question left so it’s out of the way. Because it’s worrying me like crazy. “Are you going to be in any trouble for this?”
“I don’t think so. I could be thrown in prison, but I think the government is probably going to spin it like they did some big, grand thing getting your brother back. When in reality, they did nothing but throw up roadblocks. If they try to arrest me, they’ll look like complete assholes. That’s what my attorney says, anyway. Once the media gets wind of this, we’ll know for sure. Probably morning.”
“What if they do?” I bite my bottom lip instinctively. His thumb catches it, pulling it away from my teeth.
“Then they do. And I bail out and fight it and I’ll win. I always win, rudo.”
“You won me,” I whisper.
“I better have. Is that all of your questions?” He swivels his hips, his rock hard cock brushing against my leg.
“Nope. One more,” I say breathlessly.
“Make it quick,” he groans.
“What’s rudo mean? The truth, Fent.”
“Love. It means love.” He kisses me reverently, his lips searing mine. “I’ve always known you were my rudo, or going to be, anyway.”
My cheeks ache from the wide smile on my face, but it disappears as he rubs his cock against my leg again.
“Anymore questions?” he asks, his eyes darkening.
I gulp. “That’s all.”
He lifts me in one fluid motion and sets off towards his bedroom. I pull his head to mine and run my tongue over his bottom lip. He growls in response, squeezing the back of my thighs as we enter the room. We’re to the bed in a couple of seconds and I’m on my back, his body on top of mine, his breath hot against my mouth.
“This is where you belong,” he whispers.
“Well, mostly. If your cock was inside me, it would be perfect.”
Through the moonlight streaming in from the pulled back curtains, I can see him shaking his head. “Never a dull moment with you.”
“I don’t like dull. I like . . . hard.” I palm his cock through his pants. “That kind of hard.”
His mouth meets mine, our tongues winding together, and I relax completely in his arms.