Until You Say I Do (Until You #3)

Chapter One Welcome to the Jungle ~August~

Welcome to the Jungle

August

Joseph

WHEN I WAS A KID, I begged my parents to take the training wheels off my bike so I could ride around like the big kids—like my older brothers.

I was tired of feeling left behind, like the runt of the group, not so much in size but in ability.

My dad was uncertain, sure I would hurt myself and damage my confidence.

“Let him try,” Mom said.

“He’s only four, Fiona. He’s too young. He can’t even tie his own shoes yet,” Dad protested, ever my protector.

“Take ’em off, Hugh. He’ll fall and come crying for you to put them back on.” She was so sure.

With a sigh of resignation, and as I bounced on the balls of my feet in nervous anticipation, my dad removed my training wheels.

It took one good push with my left foot, while my right pressed down hard on the pedal, to get enough momentum to place both feet on the pedals.

It was a millisecond, a mere beat of my heart, a gasp from my mom, and yes!

from my dad, and I was off, tearing down the street.

My balance improved with every steady pump of my legs and the fierce support from my brothers as they ran beside me—not in front to lead me, or behind to push me—but beside me to guide and encourage.

That’s been the story of my life, all twenty-three years of it. My need to prove myself before it was time, my family’s ability to let me do it, and my brothers being by my side the entire time.

My proverbial training wheels as VP of Products and Technology for McIntyre Corporate Industries are off.

Uncle Max is officially retired. I’m on my own.

Only I’m not. My brothers are here, sitting in the chairs facing my desk, in my executive office at MCI’s corporate headquarters in downtown Dallas.

They’re eyeing me expectantly, waiting for my next words, for my agreement, for my approval.

“Do you really think he’s ready? That he’s right for the job? Right for MCI?” I know the answer. I’ve always known the answer, but what happened a year and a half ago put a damper on my enthusiasm in bringing Samantha’s brother, Jace, on board.

“He’s changed, Joe. He’s really trying. He had an impressive start at Solengers. They’d be fools to let him walk away, but I know he wants to be here as much as I want him here.” Matt glances at Fin before his identical green eyes flash on me. “Jace won’t accept our offer unless you okay the deal.”

I pace to the wall of windows, not that I have to get up to see the view. I could have just turned my chair as two of my four walls are windows. But I need a break from their expectant stares. “You don’t need my approval. Marketing is your baby.” Matt doesn’t need my approval, but he wants it.

He laughs. “Apparently I do.”

A knock at the door brings a reprieve. “Mr. McIntyre.” Lydia pokes her head in without waiting for my reply. Her face lights up when she sees me. “I…er.” She looks between Matt and Fin as she enters the office.

I scowl at Matt, who’s eyeballing her a little too appreciatively. When he sees me notice, he simply shrugs and looks away.

She throws her shoulders back, bringing her all-too perky breasts front and center. Her eyes lock on my crotch, and her tongue sweeps across her lower lip.

Christ, really? Have some self-respect. I internally sigh and roll my eyes.

What to do about my new overly eager assistant, who spends entirely too much time staring at my dick and playing with her hair?

Mary, my regular assistant, is on maternity leave, and I fear she may decide not to come back.

I need her now more than ever. Lydia makes Mary look like a goddess among admins.

I clear my throat, and Lydia’s eyes dart to mine without a hint of embarrassment, more like a dare. “Your two o’clock rescheduled to tomorrow.”

I glance at my watch, noting the time, and wonder what Samantha’s doing for lunch. Hands in my pockets, scowling, I clench and unclench my jaw, tempering my response. “You could have told me that between meetings.”

She nods. “Yes, well…I thought you would want to know, given you’d requested it be set up for today.”

True. I did. “Thank you for being thorough. I’m fine with tomorrow.”

She smiles as if my thanks means more than it does. “I like to be hands-on and thorough.” Her gaze darts to my crotch again, only this time she bites her lip.

Christ. She’s trouble. “Thank you, Lydia.” I usher her out of the office and all but slam the door.

I turn, letting out a punch of air.

“Brother, you have a problem,” Fin states the obvious.

“I’m well aware.” I return to my seat and run my hand through my hair as I call Michael.

“Boss,” he answers before it even rings.

“Lydia. She needs to be gone today, before my wife sees her.”

“She’s not your wife yet.” The humor in his voice is unmistakable.

I don’t need the reminder. It was my brilliant idea to have the big wedding, talking Samantha out of the elopement she wanted.

Or said she wanted, but deep down she really wants the full-blown affair: white dress, wedding cake, reception, first dance, and family.

It’s the family part that makes her think she doesn’t need the fuss. Her family, not mine.

Four months. I have to make it four more months, then she’s mine. Forever.

“Just…fix it.”

“I’ll talk to HR,” Michael assures me before hanging up.

He’s been a great addition to MCI’s security team.

Though he reports to Victor for all things security related, he’s my man.

My number one in security and getting things I don’t necessarily have the time or tact for done.

Not that Michael is full of tact. This is one thing he truly lacks, except when it comes to my wife.

He and Samantha formed an unbreakable bond over the death of her father and his subsequent protection over her.

After he and Samantha both shot her father’s killer, he retired from the FBI, took some time off, and has since started working for MCI.

“What about Jace?” Fin brings me back to the topic at hand.

Jace. He’s spent the best part of a year apologizing to me and Samantha in every way possible for bringing Tiff into my bed, and for all but abandoning his mom and sister when their father died.

He’s remorseful. I believe that. But has he truly changed?

Am I the one to judge whether he’s groveled enough to warrant a reprieve?

Maybe. On the Tiff thing, yes. But on the family abandonment issue, no.

That’s all Samantha. It’s her place to let him back in.

She’s trying, but trust doesn’t come easy for her.

Their relationship is vulnerable. I can sense her waiting for him to screw up, to prove she’s justified in her doubt and mistrust.

I, on the other hand, still have no memory of Tiff and our drunken encounter.

Rape. I was raped by Tiff. Samantha is outraged for me.

I only remember my drinking-induced fantasy sex dream with Samantha.

I can still see and feel her as if it were real.

But it wasn’t Samantha, it was Tiff. Samantha hates that I’m not more upset by it.

I’m pissed at what Jace did and feel like something was taken from me that I did not offer or knowingly give.

But because I still have a sweet memory of Samantha, I won’t let it be tainted by dwelling on the Tiff aspect.

I choose to focus on all that is Samantha Cavanagh.

The fantasy of her, the reality of her, and the blessed day she becomes my wife.

Until Samantha is ready, though, I can’t fully get on board the Jace bandwagon.

I’m following her lead as Jace has caused enough damage to last her a lifetime.

“Here’s the thing.” I steeple my hands, resting my elbows on the edge of my desk.

“I think Jace has potential. The potential to be highly successful at MCI and bring our marketing to the next level with you, Matt. But, he also has the potential to break my wife’s heart, irrevocably. ”

“She’s not your wife,” they both chime in. Fin smirks, and I can hear his silent caveman in my head.

I raise my hand dismissively. “Semantics.” She is my wife—my life—in every way that matters. “I’m remaining on the fence. It’s Jace’s game to win or lose. I won’t disagree with bringing him on board, but I’m not going to champion him, either.” I meet Matt’s gaze. “That’s the best I can give you.”

He nods and rises to leave. “Fair enough.”

Fin stays behind and waits until the door closes behind Matt. He crosses his leg, playing with the seam of his slacks. “And Lydia?”

“You want her?”

“Fuck, no.” He chuckles. “She’s a lawsuit waiting to happen. HR needs to have a serious discussion with her, and then place her with a female boss.”

“Or leave MCI.”

He laughs again. “Yes, or leave.” He stands and buttons his suit jacket. “That would make your life way too easy if all of your challenges simply up and left, brother.”

“We’re planning a wedding, I’m new to this VP gig, and my wife is getting ready to live apart from me for the next year while she finishes college in Austin. I could use fewer challenges.”

“She’s not your…” He stops mid-protest when he sees my scowl. “Fine. Fine. Call her your wife. You’re already like an old married couple anyway.”

“There’s nothing old about us.”

He laughs. “No, I suppose there’s not, but you do have that couple thing about you. I don’t think you’ll survive a year apart from her.”

I scrub my face. “Fuck. I can’t ask her to stay. I can’t ask her to give up her dream of graduating from the same college as her parents.”

He shrugs. “She’d do it for you, you know.”

“I know. That’s why I can’t ask.”

“I hear ya. Regarding Lydia, I’ll talk to Michael and Victor. We’ll ensure she gets a job, somewhere outside of your organization and the view of your crotch.”

I slump back in my chair in relief. He’ll make it happen. “I owe you one.”