The Marriage Clause (Marriage Mayhem #8)

Chapter One

~ Jackson ~

"Jackson Wyatt, I thought you were dead."

I let out a grunt as I stood and shook the hand Miles Cranston held out to me. "Some days I feel like it."

"Fuck you, man." Miles grinned. "We're the same age."

I chuckled.

"You still based in London?"

I nodded. "For now, but that might change soon, which is what I need to talk to you about today."

"Come on back to my office," Miles said. "We can talk there."

I followed Miles down the hallway to a set of double doors. The room he led me to was a rather large corner office. The lines were pretty sleek, but I liked the pops of color here and there. Made it seem less industrial.

"Have a seat." Miles gestured to the chairs in front of his desk and then sat down on the other side.

I took a seat, setting my briefcase on the floor next to my chair.

"So, what did you need to meet with me about?" Miles asked.

"You know my father died recently, right?"

"Yes, I'd heard."

Not surprising. My father was filthy rich. It only made sense that someone like Miles had heard that he had died.

"We had the reading of the will yesterday." I grabbed my briefcase and opened it, pulling a file out. I set the briefcase back on the floor and then handed Miles the file. "I need to know if the will is valid."

Miles raised an eyebrow, but took the file, set it on his desk in front of him, and opened it up. I leaned back in my chair and waited as he began to read it from beginning to end.

About thirty minutes later, Miles sighed and looked up at me. "I'm afraid the will is valid and iron-clad. There's no changing it even if you were to take it to court."

My shoulders slumped. "I was afraid of that."

"Are you really going to do this, man?"

"I don't know," I replied. "I mean, it's a pretty big offer. Except for some small stipends to some of the faithful employees that served my father for years and one to that man, if I agree to all of this, everything is mine. The house upstate, the business, and all the money. But marrying my father's husband?"

I shuddered to think about it.

"Have you ever met the man?"

I shook my head. "I haven't seen or spoken to my father in ten years, not since I graduated from the university so I never went home and this guy didn't show up for the reading of the will."

The day I graduated, I moved to London. I'd had a job waiting for me there. I hadn't come back. Things between me and my father hadn't been the same since my mother passed away when I was just a teenager. They had grown nonexistent when I went away to the university and that hadn't changed to this day.

Miles's eyebrows lifted. "He didn't show up for the reading of the will?"

"Nope."

I felt like that was weird, especially if this guy was a gold digger. Wouldn't he want to know what he was taking away from my father? Maybe he already knew.

"If you don't marry this man, everything gets donated to charity."

"Oh, I am aware."

It wasn't so much that I was greedy for the money. I had plenty of my own. It was letting my family's legacy be sold off in bits and pieces that rankled me.

My great-great-great grandfather had started that investment firm back when Wall Street was just starting to be the heart of the financial district. It had been run by a member of our family ever since and right up until my father had grown ill.

I had no idea who was in charge now.

"So, what are you going to do?"

"Miles, I don't want to get married, and I especially don't want to get married to some guy my father was married to."

How creepy was that?

"Just because you're married doesn't mean you have to build a life with this guy. The will states you have to marry him and take care of his needs for the rest of his life. That does not mean you have to have a relationship with him. You do have your father's place upstate after all. The guy is already living there. Why can't you marry him, set him up there, and just live here? I know you have a place here in New York that you can stay in."

I did, not that I used it that often. I probably saw the place like three or four times a year. I hated staying in hotels and the investment had been good.

"If you don't marry him, everything gets sold and donated to charity. That would give you a lot less headache to deal with and you wouldn't have to marry this guy. You could stay in London. Although..." Miles frowned as he glanced at the will again.

"Although what?"

"If you don't marry him, he gets the place upstate and a stipend to take care of his needs for the rest of his life, so you wouldn't be leaving him in the lurch. He'd be taken care of, if that's what you're worried about."

"It's not."

I didn't know this guy. I hadn't even known about him until the will had been read. It had been a bit of a shock. He was probably some gold-digger that had gotten his claws into my father in his last years on earth and now hoped to cash in on his death.

If I married him, I could cut off any attempts by him to get my father's money, but I'd still be married to him. If I didn't marry him, he'd get the family estate and enough of my father's money to live on for the rest of his life, but I wouldn't be married to him.

I really wasn't sure which way to go.

"You could go meet him," Miles suggested. "See what type of man he is. Maybe living on the estate is what he wants. Maybe this doesn't have to be as stressful as it seems. Hell, if anything, being married to him would keep the matchmakers off your back."

Wouldn't that be something?

I'd made a fair amount of money over the years and business was booming. I could easily quit work today and never work again and still live in the lap of luxury. For me, it wasn't the money, but the thrill of the win that fueled my business interests.

Having that money, however, meant that every good meaning mother, aunt, and matchmaker out there wanted to pair me up with their daughter, niece, or friend of a friend.

Too bad I was gay.

"Unless you are dead set against marrying this guy, I wouldn't make any rash decisions before you meet him." Miles slapped the will down on his desk. "That's my best advice at the moment."

I knew he was probably right.

I sighed as I reached over and grabbed the will before placing it in my briefcase. I stood and then held my hand out to Miles. "Thanks for helping me out on this. I'll probably be back once I figure out what I'm doing."

Miles stood as well before shaking my hand. "My door is always open."

I gave him a stiff nod. "I appreciate it, Miles."

Miles smiled at me. "What are frat brothers for if not to help out when you need it?"

I started to turn, but then paused and squinted at the man. "Did I hear correctly? Did you get married recently?"

Miles's smile grew huge, filled with a happiness I could only dream of. "I did. Do you want to meet him?"

My eyebrows lifted. "He's here?"

Miles nodded toward the door on the far side of his office. "Sam has a studio right next door."

"A studio?"

Miles nodded. "I built it for him so he could come to work with me every day."

I must have looked totally confused—which I was—because Miles walked over and opened the door. I followed him into the large room, my jaw dropping as soon as I stepped inside.

There was a row of floor to ceiling windows all along one side giving the room a massive amount of light. Paintings were hung on the walls, stacked on the floor, and pretty much covered every available space.

Except for a circle in the middle of the room. There was a black haired man sitting in front of an easel in that small circle. His features were delicate, but carved as if from a block of ice. His sky blue eyes lit up the moment they landed on Miles.

"Sam, this is my frat brother Jackson Wyatt," Miles stated as he stopped next to the man. His arm went around the guy in a gesture that almost seemed protective. "Jack, this is my husband Sam Cranston."

Sam nodded to me as he moved closer to Miles, pressing into his larger frame as if he wanted to hide behind him.

I nodded back, not moving any closer. I could see from his demeanor that Sam was wary of me. I just didn't know why. I'd never met the man before today.

Miles gripped the bottom of Sam's chin and tilted his face up. "How your painting going today, baby boy?"

And there it was.

With those two little words, I knew exactly what was going on. Considering some of the things I'd seen Miles do back when we were at the university, I shouldn't have been surprised.

I glanced away knowing that Sam would be uncomfortable with me looking at him too long. When I did, a splash of color caught my eye. I started looking around with more interest, noticing the paintings for real this time.

"Did you paint all of these?" I asked. "They are amazing. The colors are so vivid."

"Sam's two great loves are me and painting," Miles replied before letting out a small chuckle. "It varies day to day which holds first place in his heart."

The small laugh I heard come from Sam seemed to light Miles up like a Christmas tree. Watching him stare down at Sam with that special sparkle in his eyes that had been missing from mine my entire life, I felt envious.

No matter their dynamics—and I wasn't about to ask what they were—these two men were truly in love. It almost hurt to watch them.

I needed to go.

"Miles, thank you for the help. I'll let you know what I decide." I nodded to Sam. "It was nice meeting you, Sam. I can see why Miles loves you so much. You're an amazing artist."

Sam's face flushed as he buried it in Miles's chest. Miles smiled at me and gave me a nod. I knew he was thanking me for not making things hard for Sam.

While I hadn't indulged quite like Miles had back in the day, I knew a submissive person when I saw one. Sam was obviously deeply into the lifestyle, which fit Miles perfectly.

"If you decide to stick around the city, give me a call when you have time," Miles directed. "We can plan lunch or something."

"That would be nice. I haven't seen the others in awhile." A few stopped by to visit when they were in London, but it wasn't like it was back in our university days when we all got together. "I have a penthouse over by Central Park so it's not too far from here. It would be easy to meet you for lunch."

One of Miles's eyebrows cocked up. "Central Park?"

"I bought it several years ago back before the place was retrofitted. It's actually pretty nice now. Unfortunately, it's on the opposite side of the building from Central Park, but I still have a nice view. I would have bought the other penthouse on the same floor, but it was sold to some businessman that works in computer parts or something. I really don't remember."

This time, both of Miles's eyebrows shot up before he quickly gave me the name of the building where I lived and the address.

"Yeah, how'd you know?"

Miles let out a snort. "Jake is that businessman, Jack."

"Jake? Jake D'Amato?"

Miles nodded. "Sam and I live downstairs as do several of our frat brothers. At this rate, we'll be taking over the entire building soon."

Interesting.

"Guess I need to visit my neighbors."

Miles chuckled again as he slapped my shoulder. "Figure out your schedule and I'll give Jake a call. I'm sure he wouldn't mind throwing a little get together."

"I'll do that." I first needed to figure out what I was going to do about my father's widowed husband. "I need to get going." I waved to the man plastered to Miles's side. "It was nice meeting you, Sam."

I considered it a win when I received a wave back and a smile small.

I walked back through the doorway and headed out of Miles's office. I gave a small nod to the receptionist as I passed through the lobby and then headed down the hallway to the elevators.

Miles had given me a lot to think about and not just because of what he said about the will. Watching him with Sam reminded me of how long it had been since I'd had someone in my life.

I'd been so determined to make a name for myself when I moved to London that dating became something of a frustration. More often than not I'd simply find someone at a bar or a party and have a one-night stand. It seemed easier than dealing with the entanglements and draw on my time that came with a relationship.

But was it?

I was kind of regretting it now. I'd felt a lot less like partying over the last few years and more like I wanted someone to warmly greet me at the door when I came home after work, maybe curl up with me on the couch and spend time together.

I suppose I could get a dog, but I didn't think that would be the same thing.

My executive assistant was waiting for me when I reached the lobby of the building. He immediately stepped forward and started walking beside me. "Where to now, sir?"

"What do my appointments look like today?" I asked instead of answering his question. My mind was still on the sight of Miles and Sam standing together.

"You have a two o'clock meeting with the finance manager of Opeum Oil, but nothing after that. You were sent an invitation to a cocktail party tonight at the Croker Estate, but you haven't replied yet and I wasn't sure if you wanted to."

I squinted as I racked my brain for information. "A cocktail party at the Croker Estate?"

"It's basically a meet and great at the Croker Estate, which is owned by Conrad Forester. You've done business with him in the past, but you don't tend to socialize with him. He can be somewhat abrasive, sir."

I shook my head because that sounded like a dull bore. "Send my regards to Mr. Forester. Let him know that I am still dealing with my father's estate and am unable to attend."

"Of course, sir," Edward replied before making several notes on his tablet.

When we reached the car, the driver opened the door to the backseat. He closed it after I slid in. Edward slid into the front passenger seat.

When we got underway, I knew we were headed back to my penthouse since I'd been working out of my home office there while in the states, and because I hadn't given my driver any indication that I wanted to go anywhere else.

The driver was new.

Edward came with me from London.

I glanced up at the tall black glass building where I'd seen Miles and Sam as we pulled out of the parking garage. I felt a peculiar ache in my chest, one of loneliness and regret.

Things would be weird if there was a romantic relationship between me and my father's husband, but maybe we could be friends. It would be nice to at least have someone to spend the holidays with.

"Edward," I stated with more conviction than I felt. "I want to go to my father's estate."

It was time to see who my father wanted me to marry.