AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Always.
My entire life was crafted around one thing—the knowledge that someday I’d take over my dad’s business. Instead of reading me bedtime stories, I used to sit on his lap in his office and hear briefs about executive finance meetings and the viability of his next investment.
And every consecutive phase of life brought me closer to that end.
First step- high school valedictorian.
Second step- Dean’s List in college. Double major in business administration and marketing, with a concentration in entrepreneurship.
Third (and most recent) step- Double master’s degrees—MBA and Commercial Real Estate.
The fact that I’d had no social life for the last decade was easy to understand, given I was glued to my fucking laptop. In his mind, it was a necessary sacrifice. The kind he’d made his entire life.
Step by step by step, I’d had a front-row seat to his success, and it was never a question of if I’d take over.
It was when.
Marrying Ethan was one of those steps. And I’d known about it—we both had—since we were fifteen.
That’s my girl, my dad would say. It’s not always easy to do what needs to be done, but a Lynch does it anyway.
Wasn’t it so easy for my dad to say that?
He wasn’t shackled off to a toothpick-armed crybaby with clammy hands.
With my father’s voice echoing through my head, I’d take anything to derail the runaway train of my thoughts.
And the most obvious distraction sat right in front of me, with mile long legs and broad shoulders wrapped in a gray Henley. I could practically feel his massive arm wrapped tight around my waist, and my cheeks went suspiciously warm.
Yup.
I definitely needed to get laid once I was out of here.
A twenty-five-year drought, punctuated by a mediocre one-time romp to divest myself of my V card, was just a bit too much, given the current circumstances.
“What’s your name?” I asked.
His head lifted, and the weight of his eyes was on my face again. “Cameron.”
I stuck my hand out, assuming he could see it. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
There was a brief glimpse of white teeth as he smiled, and he shifted forward on the ground, sliding his warm, dry hand into mine.
It was a big hand.
Rough, too.
He didn’t sit at a desk and shuffle papers all day, I’d bet my entire trust fund on that.
It wasn’t clammy at all, and he didn’t wuss out from giving my hand a firm shake, which made my belly tighten pleasantly.
I managed to swallow past that unhelpful thought. “Ivy,” I told him.
His palm was still pressed against mine, my fingers over his.
He cleared his throat, slowly pulling his hand away.
“Ivy,” he repeated. “Pretty name.”
