Chapter 1 #2
“He’s your business partner, right?” Asher asks, then curiously looks around. “Ah, he’s over by the buffet, discovering the Beluga caviar tarts. He seems happy.”
“Come on, let’s ditch these losers,” Toby says and nods away from Terrence, Katrina, and Sheila.
I can’t help but laugh as I join them.
I might regret it later, but for now, my heart’s fluttering, my stomach’s as tight as a marble, and my ego is bruised enough to warrant a little bit of the Morgan brothers’ comfort.
“You’d better not be stupid enough to think you can weasel your way into the Morgan family again,” Sheila calls out.
I glance over my shoulder. Terrence doesn’t seem too happy with this conclusion. Katrina looks awkward, as if she really did get stuck with the wrong guy. Sheila’s eyes throw daggers at my face.
Toby laughs. “Projecting a little too much there, Sheila.”
She doesn’t get a chance to reply because we’re already too far away.
Once the tension and awkwardness wear off, I find myself sitting at one of the tables on the terrace overlooking Manhattan.
The charity event takes place every year on the top floor of the Marriott, which opens up to a gorgeous, glass-covered garden with fairy lights and plenty of seating, which is perfect even for a cool, late November night like this.
Inside, the music and the liquor flow as New York’s richest sign checks and rub elbows while making a difference for hundreds of aspiring designers supported by the William James Morgan Foundation.
And I catch glimpses of Jamie meeting and greeting some of them, clinking glasses and handing out business cards.
My three unexpected companions have my full, undivided attention.
“You’re nervous,” Cole remarks, leaning back into his seat.
We’re sharing a bottle of champagne, and we’re almost finished with it. The fizzy potion works its way through my body, taking the edge off. It’s not enough to wash away tonight’s troubles, though.
“I’m feeling a little bit of many things right now,” I tell him and smile weakly. “I can’t thank you enough for getting me away from Terrence.”
“It was our pleasure,” Toby says. A devilish grin slits across his handsome, bearded face, and I notice black tattoos peeking out from under his sleeves. They reach over his large, strong hands with intricate, fine-line details. “I love pissing Sheila off every chance I get.”
“I take it that you have a contentious relationship with your stepmother.”
The brothers exchange glances, and I observe the details I hadn’t noticed before.
Asher and Toby are the eldest, in their mid-forties.
Born at the same time, yet fascinatingly different.
Asher is the clean-cut, automotive business-mogul type, while Toby chose rebelliousness and makes custom motorcycles for high-end clients.
Cole is the youngest, in his early forties, and heir apparent to the William J.
Morgan financial empire—a role I know, for sure, Terrence desperately wants.
“She’s not our mother,” Cole says. “Step or otherwise. She’s been trying to cut us out of the family and the business ever since she married our father.”
“Oh. Terrence never mentioned—”
“Of course, he didn’t,” Cole replies, shaking his head. “Why would he? Sheila got it into his head that he should be included in our father’s will.”
“Love makes people do foolish things,” Asher adds, equally dismayed. “Our father is no exception.”
“Either way, you guys didn’t have to do that,” I say.
“Do what?” Toby gives me a confused look. I like the way the shadows deepen around his greenish-blue eyes when his brow furrows.
“Intervene,” I say. “It’s greatly appreciated.”
“We meant it,” Cole says.
And as soon as his gaze meets mine again, I feel the words coiling in the pit of my stomach as heat spreads through my limbs—the intensity of his attention is enough to make my skin tingle all over. It’s just that my brain needs to do a little catch-up.
“Meant what?” I foolishly ask.
“Terrence doesn’t even deserve to breathe the same air as you, Miss Willow Bennett,” Cole says.
I laugh lightly, if only to divert attention from my reddening cheeks. “You don’t even know me all that well.”
“I know everything there is to know about you,” he says. “Which only serves to reinforce my statement. You were always too good for him.”
My mind bounces back to Terrence and Sheila’s words, my gaze dropping as I look at myself. Full-figured, with thick thighs and full hips, wrapped in a floral-patterned evening gown, pink and yellow orchids stretching over my shoulders. I feel big.
“Our family is complicated,” Asher says, pouring himself another drink after he refills my glass. “When our mother died almost twenty years ago, we were sure Dad wouldn’t marry again. Plenty of women tried, most of them from within our Hamptons and Manhattan circles.”
Toby scoffs, shaking his head. “But Sheila Madison got her claws into him, eventually. The Hoboken pretender.”
“Hoboken?” I ask, somewhat confused. “She’s a Madison.”
“By marriage,” Toby says. “Sheila married into wealth.”
“Her husband died, right?”
“When Terrence was just a kid,” Asher replies. “She squandered the little fortune he left her. By the time she met our father, she was pretty much broke.”
“And now she thinks she’s better than the Queen of England,” Toby mutters.
“Personally, we didn’t have an issue with Sheila until she started pressuring our father into knocking Asher and Toby out of the will, particularly where the ownership of his financial companies is concerned,” Cole says with a heavy sigh.
“My brothers may have businesses of their own, but they’re still Morgan men. The companies need to stay with us.”
“She wants Terrence in the will, I know,” I nod slowly. “He mentioned something about it more than once.”
“Let’s just say you dodged a bullet with that prick,” Cole says and leans in closer, taking me by surprise.
My body responds before my brain has a chance to process the sudden proximity. “To be perfectly honest, I was close to calling it all off,” I say. “I just kept hoping he’d change.”
“A man like Terrence doesn’t change,” Cole says.
“And a man like Terrence wouldn’t know how to make a woman like you happy,” Asher adds, leaning in from my left.
I find myself under the sizzling attention of three of New York’s most handsome and most successful men, and I don’t know what to do with it.
Terrence and Sheila’s jabs still echo in the back of my mind, fueling insecurities I’ve struggled with since middle school. Insecurities I thought I’d gotten over.
“I’m too fat for Terrence.” I blurt it out, holding back tears under a strained smile.
“No, Terrence’s an idiot. And Sheila’s his mother, so don’t expect her to be any better,” Toby replies. “You’re a beautiful and successful woman, Willow. Don’t ever let those parasites make you feel like you deserve less.”
Cole’s gaze drops to my cleavage, hunger darkening his eyes. “You’re all woman, Willow, from top to bottom. Poets wrote about bodies like yours. Painters were inspired by your curves. And your character just makes you the total package.”
“I am flattered. Thank you…” I giggle softly.
“I’m not looking to flatter you,” he says, getting even closer.
I hold my breath. His lips are mere inches away.
His eyes drill holes into my very soul. I should push away, I should move, I should do something, but…
I don’t think I want to. I think I like this, perhaps more than I should.
I’m a free woman now. And the heat spreading through my core feels natural.
It’s filling a void that Terrence could never even touch.
“Like I said, we meant it,” he adds. “You’ll be seeing more of us, Willow, not less.”
“Wait, you really were serious,” I gasp.
Asher chuckles softly, then whispers into my ear. “As a heart attack.”
His lips brush over my earlobe, and a thousand tiny pinpricks spread across my skin. I can feel my nipples hardening, struggling against the fabric of my dress. All I can do is pray they don’t notice.
The Morgan brothers arrange for a ride back for Jamie, and I promise my best friend that I will see him first thing tomorrow at our office, over coffee and lox and cream cheese bagels—our “gossip” breakfast routine.
Cole, Asher, and Toby then escort me to their limo and have the driver take us to my apartment in Lower Manhattan before they head home.
The conversation flows in the meantime, and I find myself growing more and more curious about them, about what they’re like, about where this might lead, because a quiet promise hangs in the crisp air between us as they get out of the limo to escort me to the building’s front door.
“It was a surprisingly lovely evening,” I tell the brothers as I turn around to face them at the base of the steps. “Thank you for that.”
“The only way you can thank us is if you let us take you out some time,” Cole declares, squaring his shoulders.
“Take me out…”
“On a date, Willow.”
“Okay,” I say and muster a shy smile.
“We’ll see you soon then,” he replies and kisses me right on the lips. I fail to react, his lips quick to silence me, to arouse me, to turn me inside out and to make my insides quicken with brimming desire. It’s short but intentional. It speaks volumes.
“Have a lovely evening,” Asher adds and takes over as Cole steps back with a hungry smile.
I’m about to say, “You too,” when Asher kisses me too.
Breathlessly, I welcome him, his tongue briefly playing with mine before he, too, pulls away to let Toby seal the deal.
I’m flustered and wet, my heart throbbing maniacally as I breathe in the deep notes of Toby’s cologne while his lips caress mine. I’m helpless.
“We’ll be in touch,” Toby says.
I manage to find my keys and get inside the building, my knees as soft as jelly, as I head for the elevator.
Equal parts confused and aroused, I keep looking back, catching glimpses of them as they climb into the back of the limo.
It’s not until I see the red taillights disappear down the street that I’m able to truly breathe again, realizing that I may have just traded a wanna-be Morgan for the real deal.
Times three.