Just My Luck (The Kings)

We were so close. A few more inches and his mouth would have covered mine and devoured me—that much I knew for certain. Abel King didn’t strike me as the kind of man who delivered soft, gentle kisses. No, a man like that took, and I had been ready and willing to give.

In the early-afternoon sun, I dug my toes into the sand as I waited for Sylvie to join me on the beach. She’d called, and we’d agreed to meet up by the water so her son could splash around and we could catch up.

Nerves skittered through me as I wondered if she’d somehow know I’d been fantasizing about her oldest brother. Sylvie was much quieter and more reserved than me, but I still think she’d have plenty to say about me hooking up with him.

I groaned at myself as I looked out onto the water. I worked for the man, and that was a boundary that shouldn’t be crossed.

So why was I even thinking of hooking up with him in the first place?

Because he had a big dick, that was why.

My stomach whooshed as I recalled the hard mass that had lengthened between us as he’d held me. Oh yeah, Abel was big all right.

When his arm slid up my back and pressed me closer, I was a goner. His brown eyes went dark, and when his tongue slid over his lip, all I wanted was a taste.

He should have kissed me. At that moment, I didn’t care that he was my boss or my friend’s brother. Not only would I have allowed the kiss, but I had craved it.

My nipples hardened into aching points just thinking about his hulking frame folding over mine, pinning me to a soft mattress and allowing me to steal his warmth. That was also something totally unexpected. Abel ran hot—and not just in the tall-and-muscular handsome man kind of way, but as though actual lava coursed beneath his skin.

I soaked up the summer sun and listened to the steady rhythm of water lapping at the shoreline. I let my mind wander to what it might feel like for his rough hands to rake over my naked body. Would he put those massive hands to good use? Was he even a good kisser?

Freaking Reina.

In reality, I didn’t blame her at all for needing help in the taproom. It was also obvious she knew something was up. Despite me trying to pretend like nothing had happened in Abel’s office, Reina kept looking at me with sly, knowing smiles.

Shit.

What the hell was wrong with me? The man barely spoke in complete sentences around me, and when he did, he was usually irritated. In fact, most of the time he was downright rude. Still, there were tiny glimmers where I saw something—someone—different. He cared about his employees, and he loved that brewery. He was soft and gentle with my children. Sylvie always promised there was a soft heart hidden in there somewhere, and that had to count for something, right?

As if I willed her into existence, sand kicked up beside me as Sylvie plopped down with her son August in her arms.All content is © N0velDrama.Org.

“Hey,” she huffed.

Her son was the perfect mix of her and Duke, with sandy-blond hair and light-brown eyes. His pillowy baby cheeks were slowly changing into those of a toddler. I grinned, holding my arms open and opening my hands in a grabby motion. “Give him here!”

Sylvie smiled and hoisted her son into my arms. Her light-blond hair was tucked into the back of a Sullivan Farms baseball cap and tumbled down her back in a thick wave. Her brown eyes were shadowed by the brim, but I could see she’d never looked happier.

“Ooof.” I nuzzled Gus’s chubby neck. “You’re getting huge.”

“Right?” Sylvie said as she arranged a beach blanket and deposited a few toys for Gus. “He’s a monster.”

“No,” I said, speaking to the grinning toddler, who blew a raspberry in my face. “Well, a cute monster maybe.” I squeezed him, and Gus tugged at my ponytail.

It felt like only yesterday the twins were Gus’s age. Lately time moved too quickly. I’d always wanted a big family, lots of kids and a house full of sunshine and laughter. I swallowed back a hot ball of regret, shoving the sad thoughts from my mind and focusing on my friend.

“What about Ben and Tillie?” Sylvie asked.

I set Gus down on his blanket and shook a crocheted jellyfish toy to grab his attention. “Granddad took them fishing. He should be dropping them off in a little while.”

“That’s nice. How is Bax?” My granddad, Norman Robinson, was known around town as Bax—don’t ask me why.

I sighed. “I don’t know. Sad? Bored? He won’t talk about it.”

“Men.” Sylvie playfully rolled her eyes.

“He won’t admit it, but I think he misses the farmhouse. I mean, how could he not? We’re in close quarters with me and the twins in that tiny cabin. Plus, he grew up there, and now it’s just a burned-up reminder of everything we lost.” I picked at the blanket beside me.

“Still no news from the investigation?” she asked.

I shook my head. “It’s slow going, I guess.” I sighed and looked out at the tourists gathering on the beach. “They did say we could rebuild, but insurance won’t do anything until the criminal investigation is complete, and I know I don’t have the money to build a whole house. Serving tables at the brewery doesn’t pay that much.”

I chuckled a dry laugh, but beside me, Sylvie frowned. “I wish there was something I could do to help.”

I bumped my shoulder into hers and took a sip of water from my tumbler. “You did. You got me a job in the first place.”

“How is Abel treating you? I told him to lighten up a little.”

A laugh burst from my chest as I nearly choked on my water. She slid a sidelong glance in my direction, and I grunted to clear my throat. “He’s been fine. Kind, actually. The other day he helped me out when Ben had a meltdown in the middle of Wegman’s.”

She frowned. “Poor Ben.”

“I know.” My foot wiggled in an anxious jitter. “He said he saw Jared and freaked out.”

“He did?” She was as shocked and worried as I was. “Do you think it was really him?”

I lifted a shoulder. “I don’t want to believe it but . . . maybe?” I toyed with my lip before deciding to finally admit to my best friend the extent of what had really been going on. “Jared has also been trying to contact me. I’d blocked him from social media, but then he used my money-transfer app to send me some nasty messages.”

“Sloane, I am so sorry. That’s really scary.” Her arm wrapped around my shoulder. When she released me, she let out a frustrated growl. “God, what a prick!”

I swallowed and nodded before the truth came out in a tiny whisper. “I just want my kids to be safe. Sometimes I feel really alone and . . . I don’t know—exposed in the cabin.”

Sylvie frowned. “Do you need to stay at the farm for a while? It’s not a fortress like Abel’s place, but there are lots of people there, and we can all keep our eyes out for Jared.”

I leaned into her. “You’re the best, you know that? Right now I think we’re okay. But thank you.”

Our conversation shifted to Gus and how he was growing like a weed. Not long after, Tillie came running up to us with smears of orange sherbet on her face, and Ben was grinning behind her. It was a relief to see them unburdened and carefree. Granddad wouldn’t stay, of course, but I was glad to see him out and about for at least a little while.

Throughout the day, a thought kept nagging me. It stayed with me long into the night as I lay on the floor staring at the cabin’s leaky ceiling.

It’s not a fortress like Abel’s place.

What had Sylvie meant by that?

The fact that I knew very little about my boss and I still wanted to climb him like a tree didn’t sit well with me. Stress from the house; not being able to access the trust fund money; Jared’s incessant, manipulative contact despite an order of protection; and worry over how I was ever going to climb out of this hole I’d gotten myself into was overwhelming.

It felt like all my troubles would float away on the breeze if only I could access the trust. There was more money there than I even knew what to do with. With those funds, I could help rebuild the farmhouse, pay for a proper lawyer to end Jared’s harassment, give more to the kids. I couldn’t let my ex control my life with fear any longer. I needed to be strong.

We could finally start over.

Then, as if I was struck by lightning, the perfect solution came to me. It was wild and ridiculous and completely feasible.

With a surge of energy, I jumped off the floor and tiptoed out of the bedroom toward the kitchen table. After firing up my laptop, I reread the email from the bank trustee.

I bit back a squeal when I realized the answer was right there in front of me.

All I had to do was convince my surly boss to marry me.