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She rattles off the whole disgusting series of events and it’s a good thing Stacie and Martin are on their way to the airport because I’m ready to strangle them both. The house is paid for by Milly, but her dad is on the deed, so he and my sister just sort of made the assumption it was going to be their home.

Ordered all new furniture. Stacie basically took over the entire place and moved Milly to the basement, tactlessly letting her know it was a little weird that she would want to be living there with them. Newlyweds and all…

Fuck.

So, they arranged for movers, at her expense of course, to move her stuff out this Friday, even though in the three weeks since it all went down, she’s not had a chance to figure out where the fuck she’s going to go.

Which is a blessing in disguise, honestly. Less work for me to untangle a lease or get out of a purchase agreement she may have signed because she’s moving in with me. Full stop.

“If you could live anywhere, where would you live, baby?”

She worries her lip on a shrug.

“It will sound dumb.”

“Nothing you say or think will ever sound or be dumb. Don’t say that. Now, just answer my question.”

“I’ve always dreamed of living out west. A big like log-cabin ranch. I mean, when people look at me, they make all these assumptions, you know? They see the black, the sort of Tinkerbell goes goth vibe, and they write me off.”

My heart is shattering as I listen, because I can tell, these are her truths and I don’t think she’s ever shared them with anyone else. My heart swells with the honor and I want to know everything.

“Keep going…out west, log cabin…what else?”

“I love that house on Yellowstone, have you watched it?”

I open my mouth to lie, but lies aren’t going to bring us closer together, so I go with the truth. “I haven’t, little starling, but I guarantee you as soon as I can, I will.”

“The house is amazing, I mean it’s big but it’s not like obnoxious. And the land, man. The horses too. I’d love to have animals. My father never let me have even a goldfish. In my dreams, I’d have this like fairytale sort of farm with a garden, an art studio and I’d wear a cowboy hat. And boots.”

“All black?”

“Well, I like pink too.”

“I like pink too. Especially the pink parts I saw last night.”

I absorb every word, prod her a bit more about her company and from what she said last night when the alcohol had her tongue a bit looser, they are having some growing pains, but I can tell, it’s her baby and she will fight for it to succeed.

“I have an idea.”

“What’s that?”

“How much do you think your company is worth?”

She shakes her head. “I have no idea. All I know is we did about three million in revenue last year and we are projected to triple that this year. If I can get some things figured out.”

“Things?”

“Just growing pains.”

“I understand growing pains.” I lean in and brush my lips across hers, thinking what they would feel like kissing the tip of my dick. “I’ll buy your company for ten million. You stay in charge, of course.”

She narrows her eyes and screws up her face. “No way. I’m not taking pity money. This is my business and I need to run it. I need to prove I can do it.”

“You can still run it—”

“I said no.” She’s dug in and I know I’ll get my way, but breaking her spirit in the process is not a win and I always win.

“Okay,” I concede for the moment. “You want to do this right, then we will. I know your company probably needs to level up and that takes cash. Investors. That’s what I do. I’ll set up a meeting. A real meeting with my team later today. You come, we talk, if they think it’s a good risk, if they’re in, then you let me help. That’s not a pity offer, that’s how we do business. I’m just going to set it up.”

I see her eyes light up and she starts shifting her hips against on top of my raging erection.

“That’s it? Those are your terms?” Her voice lowers, licking her lips, her hands slipping around my neck.

“There may be one more clause in our verbal contract.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah.”

CHAPTER 6

Milly

This rollercoaster is going to make me throw up again. Only this time, I can’t blame it on the booze.

I’m sitting in Reid’s office. It’s magnificent. Glass and warm wood, books and computer monitors. He’s like a master conducting the orchestra.

People stream in and out of the office, asking questions as he takes phone calls and fixes problems I can’t begin to understand. He’s talking about billion-dollar deals. Companies that are household names.

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