Ex, It's Over! I've Found My Love

4

3

Nathan

"You asked her to marry you?" My half-brother, Knox gapes at me.

I glare at him. He clamps his cigar between his teeth and flashes me a shark-like smile. He might be my half-sibling, but he’s made it clear, when it comes to splitting the family fortune, he’ll fight me on both my claim to the title of CEO and to my share of Arthur’s wealth. Not that I want either, but Arthur wants me to head up his group of companies, and when I saw how royally it ticked-off Knox, I accepted the role. Just for the pleasure of watching him stew. Also, because it's rightfully mine.

"Of course, you did." Sinclair Sterling snickers. He’s done business with Arthur, and over the years, my grandfather has grown to trust him and rely on his business acumen. At some point, that turned into a close friendship. Not being close to his grandsons, Arthur seems to have sought out Sinclair as a replacement. Now, Arthur likes to have him around at his weekly poker games to referee any possible run-ins the rest of us Davenports tend to favor. It helps to have someone who is not family be the neutral party. You’d think a bunch of grown-ass men could spend a few hours together without coming to blows. Sadly, our track record points to the contrary.

I take in the gleam in his eyes. "What’re you cackling about, Sterling?’

"Nothing." He coughs, then slides a couple of chips forward.

I glance at my cards, then slide all my chips in.

Knox blinks. "You sure you want to do that?"

"You sure you don’t want to fold?" I sneer.

Knox scowls, then, without taking his gaze off mine, moves all his chips into the pot. "Raise."

Ryot, my other half-brother who’s joined the game for the first time, shows no indication he’s affected by the goings on at the table. He slides his cigar between his lips, then throws down his cards. He makes a sign indicating he’s out. Fucker tries not to speak unless he absolutely must.

"You’re out?" Knox side-eyes his brother. "What’s the matter, lost your balls?"

Ryot doesn’t react. The man has a poker face—no pun intended—which reveals nothing of his thoughts. And I thought I perfected the art of being emotionless. It's the way I navigated a childhood where I was part of a one-parent home.

My mother never kept my father’s identity a secret. She also made it clear she had no respect for him; not after he discarded her after finding out she was pregnant with me. They were sixteen, and he was worried his father would disinherit him. When my grandmother found out, she insisted on paying my mother enough for us to lead a comfortable life. Her only condition was my mother take me far away and not have any contact with my father or the rest of the family. She also insisted my mother not give me my family name.

My mother signed the contract, then took the money and moved to the other side of the country. She deposited the check, then promptly broke her promise by naming my father on my birth certificate and giving me the Davenport surname. She never did contact my father’s family, and my grandmother never did follow up to ensure she complied with the stipulations of the contract. While I had a passing curiosity about my father’s family, my mother’s contempt for him and his family rubbed off on me. I had no desire to contact them. Then my mother passed away, and I enlisted. What got me through my tours of duty was my ability to lock down my emotions and focus on the task at hand.

I was very good at blocking out the world and concentrating on the job I had to do. Which is why I climbed the ladder of the military quickly. Which is why I gave orders for that last mission in which I lost my team. If not for Ben, I wouldn’t have survived, either. That error in judgement is what prompted me to leave the Marines. And now, I’ve proposed to Ben’s sister—not a real marriage, but still… It’ll mean involving her in my messy family situation. What the hell was I thinking? Or not thinking.

The sight of little Skylar all grown up with those rosebud lips, those spectacular t**s, and that voluptuous body made me want to grab handfuls of her butt and squeeze. It evoked memories of that kiss, which kept me company on many a night in my spartan quarters in whichever hellhole of the world I was serving in. I wanked off to that kiss, the feel of her flesh under my fingers, the give of her mouth against mine, that cherry blossom scent of hers, which has haunted my dreams.

And which I smelled under the aroma of her freshly baked desserts. All of it was a sensory overload. Not to mention, I looked into her features and was reminded of Ben. I remembered my promise to him to look out for his sister, and realized I could deliver on it by helping to rescue her business.

Of course, in return, she’ll have to marry me. But this way, I’ll be able to keep her safe. Further, it’s also the incentive needed for Arthur to confirm me as the CEO of the company. I’ll have the title and controlling interest and use it to have my revenge for how this family treated my mother.

I glance around at everyone, then slap my cards on the table face-up. "Royal flush."

"What the f**k?" Knox growls.

"You mean what the Royal Flush, don’t you?" I allow myself a smirk.

He glowers at me. I lean over and slide all the notes in my direction.

"Not bad," Sinclair drawls.

Ryot does a chin jerk in my direction.

The door to the den opens, and paws patter on the wooden floor. There’s a woof, then Tiny, the Great Dane who’s adopted G-Pa as his dog parent, lumbers into the room. The mutt pushes his head into my shoulder. When I scratch him behind his ear, he pants happily, then drops down to the floor with his tongue lolling out of the side of his mouth.

"What are my favorite men in the world up to?" My grandfather, the reason we're all here and in one place—under one roof, despite most of us not wanting to be in this situation—saunters into the room. If there was a personification of someone having a spring in his step, then it’s him. He beams at us.

Knox groans. "What have you done, old man?"

G-Pa holds up his hands. "Can’t this old man be happy that his grandsons seem to be getting along?"

"Seem, being the operative word," I mutter.

Ryot frowns in the direction of the senior citizen. Not that it has any effect on Gramps. He bounds over to the table with the energy of someone half his age and drops into the chair between Knox and me. "Seems you won this round, my boy." He slaps me on my shoulder.

I wince. Gramps might be closing in on eighty-two, but he’s strong enough for me to feel the weight of his muscles behind that tap.

"No seems about that." I rise to my feet. “So long, farewell, and all that.”

"What, you’re not giving us a chance to win back our money?" Knox growls.

I slide my cigar to the other side of my mouth. "Gotta quit when you’re ahead; that’s the first rule of gambling."

"But you’d gamble your life on a marriage of convenience?" Knox tilts his head. His eyes flash. I know he’s trying to bait me, and I don’t want to give him that satisfaction, but I can’t stop myself from narrowing my gaze on him. "What I do with my life is my choice."

"Not when it affects the rest of us," he shoots back.

"It’s true." Gramps bites off the edge of his cigar then reaches for a light.

"You’re agreeing with him?"

"I am. What you do sets the precedent for your brothers to follow."

"Half-brothers." I tip up my chin. "And I’m not the first. Edward agreed to an arranged marriage⁠—"

"And he’s very happy," G-Pa says without any trace of smugness. For which I should, perhaps, be grateful. But I don’t trust the guy. He’s pretending to be uninvolved in his approach, but he knows he’s steering us all on this road to marrying and settling down. A part of me resents being led in that direction. And yet, I can’t help but feel admiration for his single-mindedness in having us commit ourselves.

"He might be; doesn’t mean that route is the right one for the rest of us."

"Doesn’t mean it’s not." He blows out a puff of smoke. "All I can do is try to guide my family to find happiness."

"The way you and Greta were happy?" Knox snorts.

G-Pa lowers his cigar. "I admit, there were secrets between us. Which was my fault. I should have been more available for my sons. I should have been more open to having a conversation with my wife. I will forever regret that my oldest did not feel confident enough to approach me about having made his girlfriend pregnant or walking away from the woman who was probably the love of his life." The latter… He’s referring to Edward’s mother.

"Not to mention, staying married, out of duty, to our mother, and being absent as a father to the rest of us,” Ryot signs.

He’s a man of few words, and of late, he’s taken to signing instead of speaking. And even that is rare, so when he does sign, everyone listens. Even Tiny stops panting as the attention of the table focuses on him. Good thing, I think, I’d picked up the rudiments of sign language while coaching football for special needs children.

"It’s admirable you’re repentant about your past mistakes, but it hardly makes us confident about your approach to getting us hitched." Ryot’s gaze narrows.

G-Pa places his cigar on the notch in the ashtray. The smoke trails into the air. His movements are careful, considered, and when he finally looks up at Ryot, his eyes are conflicted. The old man’s a heartless old coot who’d do anything to ensure his company is profitable. But he’s made a special attempt to study sign language so he can converse with Ryot. Likely, so he can implement whatever machinations he has in mind. I’m not ready to give my grandfather the benefit of doubt... yet.

"I’m aware of my shortcomings. I’m aware of the mistakes I made with my sons, which is why"—he looks around the table—"I’m determined to set things right. I’m determined that my grandsons will not face the challenges I or my older two sons did. I am determined all of you and your uncle, my youngest son, will find true love and happiness. The kind I had with Greta but did not cherish. It’s when you have something and then lose it that you realize its importance. For you young people, life is about power and success and that malarkey⁠—"

Knox sneers, but Arthur ignores him.

"—when really, it’s about family, and relationships, and having those who care for you and those you care for around. When it’s about finding the love of the right woman and having your own family to nurture and cherish. To see yourself in the faces of your children as they grow, in the happiness of your other half, without whom your life will be incomplete."

"You realize, we may not share the same sentiments?" I crack my neck.

"And you realize, the only way you can become the CEO is by getting married?" Once more, there’s no smugness or sense of triumph in Arthur’s voice. But damn, if the old man isn’t using his condition as a way to get what he wants.

Sinclair looks between us. "Uh, perhaps it’s time I left?"

"Stay," I say at the same time as Arthur.

"Your presence helps keep peace between my grandsons and I value that. It makes you family." Arthur straightens his spine. "There are no secrets from you."

I cross my arms across my chest. "You concede you manipulated events so I landed at the bakery of my best friend’s little sister?"

"Oh, were you acquainted with the owner of the bakery?" His eyes are wide with innocence. In fact, the surprise on his features is almost believable. Almost.

"If you expect me to believe you didn’t know about the relationship between me and the woman running the bakery, then you’re mistaken."

"So, there is a relationship between the two of you?" The old man’s eyes sparkle.

"There is nothing between us," I bite out.

"But there could be something in the future. After all, you did ask her to marry you?"

I glower at him. "How do you know that?’

He widens his smile. "A lucky guess?"

When I continue to stare at him, he sighs. "It was a logical conclusion, given how upset you seem, how you reacted to having met the owner of the bakery, and that I had thrown down the gauntlet of you getting married before you could confirm your position as the CEO. Also,"—he raises his hand—"I swear, I had no idea you were acquaintances."

"I’ve met her three times." On the first two occasions, I accompanied Ben home between our deployments. I merely saw her as my best friend’s kid-sister and nothing more. The third time was when she turned eighteen, and she kissed me. And everything changed.

"That’s more than enough time to know if she’s the woman of your dreams." Arthur nods.

"She’s not—" I begin, but with Arthur’s keen gaze on me, I swallow my words.

"The bakery is a good investment," he offers.

"What do you know about bakeries?" I narrow my gaze on him.

"It was Greta’s dream to run a bakery, but it was something she wanted me to be involved with, with her. I always thought it would be something we’d do together when we retired."

"You wanted to run a bakery with you wife when you retired?" Knox gapes at him.

"Indeed. I thought it would be a great way to spend time with my wife, but then Greta passed before I could find a way to slow down. Time"—he glances around the table—" has a way of getting away from you. One moment, you’re getting married; the next, you’re burying your wife. Then, you find you’re estranged from your own children." He turns to me. "You have to believe me when I say, I only want what’s best for you. I want you to have everything I didn’t. Besides, as long as the owner of the bakery isn’t a Whittington or a Madison—though the former is preferable to the latter—and I’m assuming she isn’t either, you have my blessings."

"Not that I asked for it," I scoff. "Also, who’re these Whittingtons and Madisons?"

"Only our mortal enemies."

“But you hate the Madisons more than the Whittingtons?”

“If there were degrees of hate, then yes.” He glares around the table. "As long as I’m alive, there’ll never be a Whittington or a Madison spouse for a Davenport, mark my words."

As if sensing the change in mood, Tiny rises from the floor. With a final bump of his head against my hip, he lumbers over to Arthur. He pushes his big head into Arthur’s shoulder. G-Pa’s features soften. He seems to shake off his anger and pats the mutt’s head. With a sigh, Tiny plants his butt on the floor, but keeps his face pressed against Arthur’s upper arm.

The old man’s repentant about his past and wants to make amends for his transgressions. And I do appreciate the sentiment.

I’m cognizant that he wants the best for us. Only, he wants to maneuver us along and ensure each of us have tied the knot. The reason I’m happy to comply is because I actually want her with me. And this is the perfect opportunity to coerce her into marrying me in return for saving her business. This way, I can ensure she’s by my side where I can watch over her.

Once we have wed, nothing stops Arthur from confirming me as the CEO. Then, I can use my position to steer the future of this company. I’ll use my power to teach the Davenports a lesson for turning away my mother when she was pregnant and refusing to recognize her child. They may have paid her, but nothing can take away the hurt and anger that drove her to an early grave. Arthur might want to repair the damage he caused, but it’s too little, too late. Only taking over the leadership role in the company, and then breaking down Arthur’s life’s work, will suffice. Bringing down the Davenport name is the only way my mother will be avenged.

I push away the prickle of discomfort that trickles down my spine and wave my cigar in Arthur’s direction. "I don’t appreciate the way you’ve finagled me into this arrangement, but fine."

"Fine?" He lowers his chin to his chest. "Care to elaborate?"

I blow out a breath. "Fine, I’ll go through with the wedding."