Read Cross Check (Marriage Contract #1) Online
Authors: Colleen Masters
I, Jamison
King, am writing to formally withdraw myself from consideration for the role of
president at King Enterprises. While I am of course honored to be thought of as
a successor to my late father, I believe it would be in the best interest of
the company for Leah Brody to take on the position of president on her own. Ms.
Brody has been an exemplary employee of King Enterprises for many years, and has
unparalleled expertise in her field. I look forward to learning from Ms. Brody
as I continue on in my role as creative executive of my family
’s company.
With my
withdrawal from the position of president, I am also dissolving any matrimonial
obligation on Ms. Brody
’s
part. There is no reason for us to follow through with my father’s proposed
marriage, as I am willingly giving the sole presidency of the company to her. I
have no doubt that my father’s intentions in this matter were good, but I feel
now that marriage should not be untaken as a matter of strategy or convenience.
A marriage entered into under anything other than free will is no marriage at
all. I only regret that I did not have the sense to come to this realization
sooner, and do the right thing by Ms. Brody and King Enterprises from the
start.
Sincerely,
Jamison King
The second my eyes land on Jamison’s signature, I read
through his letter a second time. And then a third. It isn’t until the fourth
read that the meaning of his message begins to sink in; Jamison has set me
free. And instead of this freedom feeling like a dismissal, it feels like the
ultimate gift. Clarity washes over me as I sit there at my old kitchen table.
Without the intense pressure of Loudon’s will hanging overhead, I know more
than ever what I want. And what I have to do.
I pick up my cell phone with steady hands and open up a new
text to Jay.
“Thank you,” I tell him simply, knowing those two words
carry the weight of all I’m feeling at this moment.
I hear my dad let himself in through the front door,
whistling as he walks into the kitchen. He stops short as he sees me there,
sitting before the stack of contracts.
“Lee, what’s all this?” he asks, looking warily down at the
papers.
“It’s a new start,” I tell him, rising to my feet and
walking past him.
“Where are you going?” he asks, baffled by my serene
demeanor.
“I’m gonna go clean myself up,” I tell him, “And then I
think I’ll get some fresh air.”
“Sure thing, sweetie,” Dad says, as I disappear up the
stairs, “Let me know if you need anything, OK?”
But of course, there’s only one thing I need right now. Or
rather, one person.
***
My rusty yellow beach cruiser could use a new coat of paint,
that’s for sure. But though my bicycle lets out its fair share of creaks as I
fly across the King estate, it certainly does the trick. I’ve swapped out my
sweats for a simple black tee shirt dress. Even though night has fallen by now,
the warm summer breeze keeps me plenty warm as I race along the foot path
toward the bay beyond Little Silver.
The gazebo looms on the horizon, rising up among the
cattails and weeds like a sentry of the past. I swing myself down from my bike,
letting it rest against the wooden rails of the old structure. Stepping up into
the old gazebo, I take a deep, steadying breath. The smells of wood and salty
air take me back a dozen years, to the last time I set foot in this place.
Then, I’d been eighteen years old with my whole life ahead of me. Tonight, I
feel as though my life—my future—has been renewed.
I stand at the gazebo railing, looking out across the bay.
The water is glassy and still, reflecting the starry night sky back on itself.
No loud music or screaming teenage voices disturb the silence, like they did on
the night of my high school graduation. Tonight, the world is quiet. So quiet
that the faint sound of footsteps behind me rumble past my ears like fireworks.
Bracing myself in case this whole thing goes to hell in the next few minutes, I
turn around to face my fellow wanderer.
It’s only been a week since Jamison and I have seen each
other, but catching a glimpse of him standing before the gazebo feels like
finding water in the desert. He stands there in his favorite jeans and a white
tee shirt, the stubble on his chin as pronounced as I’ve ever seen it. His dark
blonde hair falls across his forehead, and his strong hands are shoved into his
jeans pockets. He stares up at me in the near darkness with his discerning,
bottomless blue eyes. His broad, balanced body is free from the tense anger
that gripped it when last we saw each other. He looks focused. Determined.
Unwavering as ever.
“You’re here,” I say softly, taking a step toward him.
“I stopped by the cottage first,” he replies, stepping up to
join me in the gazebo, “Your dad said you’d gone out.”
“And you knew just where to find me,” I smile, “Of course.”
“Of course,” he echoes. “So… I guess Price dropped off the
new contracts.”
“He did,” I nod, “I…I had to read your letter about a
thousand times before it hit me.”
“Before what hit you?” he asks, leaning against a thick
vertical beam.
“How crazy I’d been to doubt you,” I say softly, holding my
ground.
We stand facing each other from opposite sides of the
gazebo, just like we did all those years ago. And just like then, we can no
longer hold back what we’ve been waiting to say.
“It was the only way I could think of to do right by you,”
Jay says, “It’s what I should have done from the start. I knew you were the
right person to run King Enterprises. I just didn’t want to admit it to myself.
And to be perfectly honest…I liked the idea of us being together.”
“I did too,” I tell him softly, “Even if I wasn’t willing to
own up to it.”
“You know, I think I was relieved by my dad’s crazy
ultimatum,” Jay laughs quietly, “I figured a contract was my best chance at
keeping a woman like you. But even with that in place, I still managed to fuck
things up.”
“Jay…” I say, taking a step toward him.
“No. Don’t try to tell me otherwise,” he says firmly, “It
was fucked up, that stunt with Svea. I could feel you pulling away from me, and
that was my crazy last-ditch effort to get your attention, I guess.”
“It hurt like hell, I won’t deny that,” I tell him, “But I
was
pulling away from you. I let other people’s opinions get inside my head.”
“I want you to know something,” Jay says, his sharp jaw set
firm, “That afternoon, after you and Elsie left DeLeonardo’s, Svea and I stayed
for about another ten minutes. I didn’t even finish my drink before I left.”
“What?” I breathe, “You were gone for hours.”
“But not with her,” he tells me, “I went off on my own,
getting hammered, knowing you’d be thinking the worst. I went into sabotage
mode. Maybe I was trying to give you an excuse to leave my ass. Like if you
broke things off because of some stupid stunt of mine, it would have less to do
with me failing you as a man. As a partner.”
“Stop it,” I tell him, yearning to close the space between
our bodies, “You’re an amazing partner, Jay. You may be arrogant as all get out
and stubborn to boot, but you showed me more kindness, more understanding in
one week than anyone ever has. Don't ever think for a second that you aren’t a
good partner. Or a good man.”
“I wasn’t good enough to keep you,” he says, his eyes hard
on my face. “Which is exactly why I knew I had to dissolve the contract and let
you go.”
“But that’s just it, Jay,” I say softly, “By letting me
go…you gave me a way to come back to you.”
His eyes widen as I walk slowly across the gazebo, my body
vibrating with the want to be close to him.
“Are you…are you saying…?” he begins gruffly, straightening
up as I approach.
“You never needed a contract to keep me,” I tell him,
resting my hands on his firm chest, “And you know what? I’m glad the ultimatum
is gone. Because now, when I tell you I want to be with you, you’ll always know
that it’s for you, and you alone.”
Jay catches my face in his hands, staring down at me in
wonder.
“You still want to be with me,” he murmurs, amazed.
“More than anything,” I whisper, feeling his heart beating
under my hands, “I love you, Jamison. I always have.”
“I love you, Leah Brody,” he says ardently, his blue eyes
blazing, “And I always will.”
Jay brings his mouth to mine, catching my lips in a deep,
searing kiss. I wrap my arms around his shoulders as I let my mouth fall open
to his. The taste of him is a hit of pure joy, sweeping away all the heartache
and loneliness of this past week. He swings me around, pressing my back against
the wooden beams of the gazebo. Our tongues glide against each other, our
mouths moving as one as we run our hands along one another’s bodies.
“Jay,” I breathe, closing my eyes as he kisses along my
throat.
“Mhm?” he murmurs, grabbing hold of my waist as he kisses
along my collarbone.
“There’s one more thing I wanted to talk to you about…”
“What is it?” he asks, pulling back to look me in the eye.
“Your letter, it technically ended our engagement under your
dad’s contract,” I tell him, running my hands down his chest, “Our agreement to
get married has been dissolved.”
“Yeah,” he says, his brow furrowing, “I know. I just
couldn’t hold you to marrying me under those circumstances. I want to be with
you because it’s what you want. Not because it’s what you feel obligated to
do—”
“But do you still want to be engaged to me?” I cut in.
“What are you doing, proposing to me?” he laughs, wrapping
his arms around me.
“I…I think I am,” I tell him in all seriousness, bringing my
honey-brown eyes to his.
His smile fades to a look of awe as I take his hands in
mine.
“Jamison King,” I say softly, “Will you marry me?”
“You’re fucking right I will,” he murmurs, a wide grin
breaking across his gorgeous face.
I throw my arms around him, happy tears welling in my eyes.
Jay catches me up in his arms, lifting me off the ground in an ecstatic
embrace. Our laughing voices float up into the night sky together, disrupting
the silent night with our uncontainable joy.
“You’re an amazing woman, Brody,” he tells me, letting me
gently back down to the ground before him, “And you’re going to be my wife.”
“Christ, I like the sound of that,” I grin back, drunk with
excitement.
“Well how does this sound,” he counters, running his hands
down my back, “I think you and I should spend the rest of the night right here
in this gazebo, making up for this last week we spent apart…”
“You read my mind, future husband,” I murmur, pressing
myself flush against his sculpted body.
We fall into each other’s arms, giving ourselves over to the
moment just like we did twelve years ago. But whereas that night was all about
having one last chance at having each other, tonight is all about firsts. This
is the first night of the rest of our lives together. And that’s more exciting
than one fleeting fling could ever be.
One year later…
I watch from behind a wall of video monitors as the cameras
begin to roll on an epic fight sequence. Warring factions of futuristic
fighters rush at each other, locked in a deadly struggle for power. Leading the
charge is Svea Andersson, killing it in the role of Gemma Moore. She commits so
fully to the scene that for a moment, I almost forget that I’m standing in the
middle of a sound stage.
“Cut!” someone calls from the set of Huntress of Tomorrow,
“I think we got it.”
On screen, the actors relax, dropping out of the characters
and congratulating each other on a great take. I can’t help but burst out in a
little round of applause. It’s incredible to see my vision translated into
production like this. I couldn’t be more proud.
“Damn,” Jamison whistles at my side, “This is absolute
gold.”
“Right?” I reply excitedly, “I can’t believe how well it’s
all coming together.”
“All thanks to you, Madam President,” he smiles, wrapping an
arm around my waist.
“Thanks to
us
, Mr. VP,” I correct him with a playful
nudge.
The entertainment world was shocked when Jamison first
decided to step aside as let me take over as sole president of King
Enterprises. No one could comprehend why someone like Jay would choose to give
up his “birth right” and take a lesser position at his family’s company. But as
soon as I took on my role as president, one of my first actions was to make
Jamison my VP. And this new hierarchy did such wonders for King Enterprises
that people had no choice but to stop questioning our choices.
The fact to of the matter is, I was always the more
qualified candidate to take over the company. Jay will be the first person to
tell you that his expertise has more to do with branding, marketing,
understanding what people want and how to tell a compelling story. The last
thing he wants to do is deal with the nuts and bolts of movie production. That’s
where my expertise come in. Running a production from afar, overseeing the big
picture, managing a ton of moving parts, that’s what
I’m
good at. And
these disparate skills are what make our current professional partnership so
successful.
“Are you happy with how it’s going so far?” I ask Elsie
Walker, who’s been watching the monitors alongside me and Jamison.
She turns to me with misty eyes, and I’m almost taken aback
by how moved she looks. The Elsie I know is all acumen and armor. She never
lets her guard down or gets emotional in front of other people. But right now,
even she can’t contain her feelings.
“It’s amazing…” she breathes, placing her hands over her
heart, “Seeing my books come to life like this.”
“I’m so glad you’re happy with it,” I tell her, giving her
hand a squeeze.
Elsie and I may have had our bumps over the past year or so,
and god knows we’re extremely different, but we’ve come to have great respect
for each other. Even those parts of each other’s lives we may not be able to
understand. We may never be great friends, but we are great collaborators. And
in my book, that’s just as valuable a relationship to take care of.
“You guys made it!” a happy voice calls from beyond the
monitors.
I look up to see Svea Andersson approaching, wrapping Elsie
up in a big, generous hug.
“All the way from New York,” I laugh, accepting her warm
embrace and watching as she gives one to Jamison as well.
Luckily, the incident at DeLeonardo’s hasn’t affected my
working relationship with Svea at or, or Jamison’s for that matter. To Svea’s
mind, there was nothing out of the ordinary about that afternoon. She’s as warm
and compassionate with everyone she meets as she was with us that day—that’s
just her nature. Probably, she has no idea that she was a feature in my and
Jay’s fight a year ago. And that makes sense, because our fight wasn’t really
about Svea. It was about each of us running up against our own boundaries and
struggling to break through. But now that we’ve blown those boundaries to
smithereens, Jay and I are stronger than ever.
“Are you going to be in LA for a while?” Svea asks us.
“I’m staying for a while,” Elsie confirms.
“We’re just passing through,” Jay tells the actress, “Wanted
to come see how everything was going on set, but we’re heading back to New York
later today.”
“Oh, of course,” Svea smiles, “The big day is almost here,
isn’t it?”
“This weekend,” I tell her excitedly, looking over at
Jamison with a smile.
“It’s going to be so beautiful,” Svea gushes, “You two are
perfect together.”
“Well, there’s no such thing as perfect,” I laugh, “We know
that better than anyone. But we do make an awesome team.”
“Fucking right we do,” Jay grins, kissing the top of my
head, “And that’s what counts more than anything.”
One thing’s for sure, I definitely don’t mind the perks of
being the president of King Enterprises. And a perk that I’m particularly fond
of is getting to travel via private jet. It’s a piece of cake for Jay and I to
take our leave of Los Angeles and head back to the East Coast, arriving late
Friday evening. By now, I’ve fully moved into Jay’s brownstone on West 10th,
but that isn’t where we head tonight. Instead, we drive right from the airport
to the King Estate in Little Silver. That’s where all the festivities are
taking place this weekend.
We pass out as soon as our heads hit the pillow. When I wake
up in the morning, Jay is already up and sitting out on the balcony off his
room. We’re staying together in the King’s mansion, just like we always do when
we come home to Little Silver. The estate was split evening between Jay and
Cordelia, which means that each King sibling has access to this house whenever
they like. Even Cordelia couldn’t imagine selling this gorgeous home where we
all grew up. And that’s saying something.
I roll onto my back in Jamison’s king bed, taking in the
now-familiar room. Jay and Cordelia have both held onto the rooms they slept in
as children—with updated decor of course, but still. In a way, this will always
feel like Loudon and Priscilla’s home, so their master suite is left more or
less undisturbed. Maybe someday there will be new little family members to fill
in the empty spaces of this home—but it’s only been a year since Loudon and
Priscilla passed. The loss is still too fresh to look over, unacknowledged.
“You’re up,” Jay says, glancing up at me from the balcony.
“Mhm,” I reply sleepily, rolling onto my side to face him,
“Just thinking about what eighteen-year-old Leah would say if she could see me
now.”
“She’d probably give you a high five for bagging such a
stud,” he teases, settling back into his adirondack chair as he sips his
coffee.
“You know something?” I reply, standing up to join him on
the balcony, “That’s probably not too far off.”
I brush aside the flowing curtains and take a seat beside
Jay. A fresh press and extra coffee cup are waiting for me on the side table. I
smile at this little act of thoughtfulness. Jay’s always been surprisingly good
at the small stuff like this. To be fair, he’s good at the big stuff, too. But
it’s the little gestures of daily care that really make this relationship what
it is. Even with our larger-than-life jobs and jet-setting ways, we make sure
to check in with each other every single day. That’s the kind of relationship
work that I’m more than happy to do.
“So. How’re your feet doing?” I ask Jay, pouring myself a
cup of coffee.
“What about my feet?” he asks, glancing down toward his
toes.
“Are they starting to feel chilly?” I tease, settling back
into my chair, “Perfectly natural for the day before your wedding.”
“Don’t worry,” Jay laughs, “My feet are doing just fine. How
are yours?”
“Warm and toasty,” I tell him with a smile.
It’s actually kind of incredible, how easy this engagement
has been. The press was all excited about it when we first announced on Morning
in New York, but that was a year ago. They’ve long since moved on. The
paparazzi still pop up every once in a while, but even that had died down
considerably. I think the press was expecting our relationship to be fraught
and dramatic. Jamison does have a bit of a party boy reputation in the public
eye from his days in the NHL, so I understand why people might make assumptions.
But that’s not what he and I are about as a couple. Our lives are plenty
exciting, what with the work we do and all, but we’ve far from the hot messes
people like their celebrities to be.
“What’s the plan for the day?” Jay asks, sipping his coffee
as he looks out at the view of the bay.
“Everything’s pretty much taken care of,” I tell him,
“Everyone has their marching orders for tomorrow. I think it’s gonna go off
without a hitch.”
I guess the easiest way to have a low-stress engagement is
to plan a low-stress wedding. A lot of people expected me and Jamison to go all
out with our nuptials. You know—400 guests, famous musical guests, champagne
fountains, all that business that Cordelia and her husband has at their
wedding. But nothing could be further from our style as a couple. Neither of us
wanted mindless extravagance for our big day. Just a cool, tasteful, fun as
hell party that our small circle of friends and family could really enjoy.
I look out across the property toward my dad’s cottage. With
my salary from King Enterprises, Dad doesn’t need to work another day in his
life. But even after he agreed to retire from his role of groundskeeper, he
still wanted to go on living in the cottage.
“It was the home I shared with your mother,” he explained to
me, when I asked if he wouldn’t rather a new place all his own. “I never want
to leave.”
Thinking of my mom brings a knot rising in my throat. Every
step along the way in our wedding planning, I could feel her absence. I’ve
decided to wear her white eyelet dress—the same one I wore to graduation—on my
wedding day. How I wish she could have been alive to see me get
married—especially to Jamison. And it isn’t just my own mother’s absence I’ve
felt more acutely than ever in the lead-up to the wedding, it’s the absence of
Jay’s parents, too. Loudon and Priscilla would have loved to throw us a perfect
wedding, sparing no expense along the way.
I smile sadly, thinking of how proud Loudon would have been
to see me and Jay as an honest-to-god couple. He was obviously in favor of us
being together—he made that perfectly clear in the most dramatic way possible.
But even he seemed to think that our partnership would be more pragmatic than
anything. No one could have predicted how deeply caring our relationship would
eventually come to be, not even me and Jamison.
“I’m really glad we decided to get married here,” I tell
Jay, reaching for his hand.
“It feels right, doesn’t it?” he nods, stroking the back of
my hand with his thumb.
“I mean, this is where it all began,” I reply, looking out
across the King Estate.
“Could you ever have guessed that this is where we’d end
up?” Jay asks.
“Not in a million fucking years,” I laugh, shooting him a
grin, “I thought you were my own personal nemesis when we were little.”
“Right back at you,” he laughs, giving my hand a tug and
pulling me into his lap. “Not to mention that fact that you were just a quiet
little book worm while I was the star of our town.”
“Um, hello, you were a nerd too,” I remind him, throwing an
arm over his shoulders, “Just a secret nerd, is all.”
“Thanks for not giving away my secret,” he murmurs, bringing
his lips to my throat.
“Of course,” I reply, arching my back as he brushes his lips
against my skin, “That way, I got to have your nerdy side all to myself…”
“You get all the sides to yourself now,” he smiles, setting
down his coffee and grabbing hold of my hips.
“That’s right,” I grin, putting my cup down and straddling
him on the chair, “And how I do love all those sides…”
I slip my hands up under his tee shirt, running my
fingertips along his rows of abs. Tugging his shirt up over his head, I admire
his sculpted torso, his thickly muscled arms. Sometimes, I still have trouble
believing that I get the privilege of beholding this gorgeous, perfect body of
his. I bring my lips down to his chest, kissing across his firm pecs. I can
feel him start to harden beneath me, and that stirring only eggs me on.
“Want to have one last sinful fuck before we’re man and
wife?” I murmur in his ear.
“Just one?” he growls, “You don’t give me enough credit.”
I laugh in surprise as he stands up, holding me up with
ease. I wrap my legs around his waist and he takes hold of my firm ass. After a
year of nearly daily fucking, our appetites for each other have only grown. And
today is no exception.
I bring my mouth to Jay’s as he carries me back into the
bedroom, bearing me across the space as if I were weightless. I suppose I am
only half his size, but his well-built athlete’s body certainly helps. It’s
strange to think that we had entire other lives before we reunited last year. I
missed out on his rise to NHL fame, he missed out on my time at Harvard and my
rise through the ranks of King Enterprises. But I don’t mourn those years we
spent apart. They made us who we are today. We were blessed to have time to
find ourselves before we found each other again. Everyone should be so lucky.
I gasp as Jay all but throws me down on the bed before me.
He knows by now that I don’t mind a little rough play. In fact, I even enjoy
getting a little dirty now that I have a partner I trust so fully. Pulling
myself up onto my elbows, I let me knees fall wide open before him. My booty
shorts and thin tank top cover just enough skin to drive him absolutely wild.
He steps out of his own shorts and kneels before me on the
bed, his perfect cock standing at attention for me. Lowering himself to me, he
takes the waist of my shorts in his teeth and tugs them down over my ass. I
hurry to tear off my tank top, tossing it across the room as he brings his body
to mine. The weight of him on top of me is the definition of bliss.