The Complete Bad Boy Series (5 in 1): Best Billionaire Romance Collection (Bad Boy Billionaire Stepbrother Romance Paranormal Series) (10 page)

That night, Laura sat in her basement, her binder spilled out, feeling a loving desire to research each and every one of these people and their stories, almost felt as if it had been her purpose. She had shown her parents the binder, explaining to them that her discovery made her feel a close kinship to the dead, and she knew why now. They had actually turned around and encouraged her to do this, asking her to come to them with this information. She wasn’t sure if she was ready for that, had felt lied to by her parents, even though once they had spoken all day, she easily understood their fear and reasoning.

She felt empowered as she sat with her truth, but there was a little voice inside of her warning her about this truth and Ian. She felt tears form in her eyes, one single, cold tear dripping down her face, coming to the realization that Ian would find her crazy and disgusting, a step away from a corpse. She mustered the courage to tell him that night, felt that she would have to tell him it all and tell him quickly, similar to ripping a Band-Aid off.

He came a bit earlier that night, as if he sensed something was different in their bond. She heard the soft rapt on the door. Suddenly, Laura was scared and backed herself into the corner. Her tears drained down her face like a loose faucet and she left his rapping taps, running upstairs and slamming the basement door shut.

As she lay in bed that night, she went over the conversation she should’ve had over and over again in her mind, rotating like a wheel in her brain. She was plagued with a broken heart, but didn’t know if she could stand the rejection and fear that would surely be in Ian’s eyes and demeanor. She cried herself to sleep that night, her mother hearing her, and coming to sleep next to her, holding her the same way she had when she was 3 years old.

The following morning brought sunshine and birds’ chirping, and Laura tried her best to get pull herself out of bed. Her mother lay next to her, running a finger through her Ian, similar to how Ian had.

“Mommy,” she heard herself whine and her mother kissed her on the forehead.

“What is it sweetheart? Is there something more going on as well?” and Laura felt her head nod in her mother’s chest, needing her mother as she had needed her as a child.

“Don’t be mad,” she whispered and her mother agreed.

“You tell me what it is,” her mother said.

“I met a boy and I love him. I’m so scared…I don’t know how to tell him any of this. But I need to, I know I need to,” she spat out. Her mother was silent and calm.

“I’m not sure this is something we should share with just anyone; the judgement that will ensue, the harshness, have you considered any of that? We have tried our best to hide you from these things, sweetheart.”

“Mom, this is something I need to do.”

“If you love him, truly, then I support you,” and her mother had sat with her for another hour before turning to her and telling her honestly that their lives needed to proceed and go on, and this would begin with a big breakfast and a hot shower. She ran the shower for her, placing freshly cleaned towels on the sink and told her that she would make her favorite French toast and Laura agreed, finding her own strength within her mothers. She knew she had to get up, step one foot in front of the other, and find this strength to continue on and to speak to Ian that day.

She sat with her parents around the kitchen table, hair wet against her bare back, fidgeting with her French toast, forcing herself to eat every minute or two. It was a slow process, but with each bite she felt herself feeling stronger and more durable.

Suddenly, there was a gentle rapping at the door and her heart stopped in her chest, knowing immediately who it was.

“Oh my God,” she whispered. Her mother’s eyes met hers. Laura forced herself out of her chair and walked slowly and deliberately to the front door, chastising herself for having not had this conversation alone with Ian the previous night. She opened the door slowly, it creaking with every light tug.

“Ian,” she said breathless as her eyes met his. He stood before her, a look of worry and concern across his face.

“I was worried…you didn’t come to the door last night and I thought I heard you in there. Are you okay?”

“Well, I need to speak with you,” she said slowly and opened the door further. Ian’s eyes looked scared and concerned.

“I hope everything is okay,” he said, stepping alongside her and into their home. “I look forward to at least meeting your parents,” he said, trying to erase some of the tension, smiling.

There was a sudden abrupt shatter behind her and Laura averted her eyes up, saw her mother standing there, having dropped the plates with the French toast onto the floor. She let out a howl, bare and to the core. Laura felt a shiver overcome her and then heard her father gasp.

“Ian Hayes,” her mother screeched. Ian stood in the doorway, shuddering himself.

“How do you know my name?” he asked quickly.

“Laura, this is the boy that was killed in the crash that killed you.”  Laura turned to Ian quickly, saw his knees buckle and his body seep slowly onto the floor like warm molasses.

“You too?” Laura breathed breathlessly and Ian nodded his head, taking her hands in his.

“I-I-I… I didn’t know how to tell you…I-I….I knew you were my kind, sensed it from the moment you all moved in, but I had no idea we were connected in the same incident,” he breathed, his eyes searching hers for answers. Their eyes darted to Laura’s parents. Her mother motioned for them to follow her, her own legs unsteady, and they fumbled their ways into the family room, sitting on the couch.

“I think we should get your mother over here as well…is she home?” Bernard asked and Ian nodded, he himself silent and desperate. He sat next to Laura, their cold hands freezing to one another.

They sat in silence until Angela came to the door, shaken herself. It had taken Bernard a good half hour to coax her into coming, discussing with her how he understood the deep impact this would have on their families, how voicing their history and going through it  would be messy but it was necessary and something their children needed.  Amanda had sobbed and cried and when she finally sat beside them, her tears had been left evident on her face by the charcoal mascara that had run on her cheeks. Laura was thankful that she was fresh out of a shower, no makeup applied, so her tears could stay fresh and pure on her face.

“My God, what does all this mean for us?” Angela asked, sobbing again.

“My mother told me years ago, when I began coming to her with questions upon questions about my life. And I had flashbacks, a lot of them. I remembered heaven,” Ian began, staring at his hands. Laura felt a twinge of jealousy, wishing she herself could recall this. Ian continued on, “but I could’ve never anticipated this. I knew from the moment I met Laura that we had a connection, a bond. I knew she was dead a few weeks later, and didn’t know how or if I should say anything. She’s one of my kind,” Ian said, taking a chance to lean over and kiss her on the cheek. Laura waited for her father to get upset, but in the wake of all that was forthcoming, he barely seemed to notice.

“Can others see us?” Laura asked and Ian shook his head, taking the lead of the conversation, the adults allowing it, feeling unaware and awkward themselves. They couldn’t speak to being dead, and they certainly couldn’t speak to becoming the undead either.

“No. We have a presence, people may
feel
us, but I have found that anyone outside of my mother, or those who are also dead, cannot see us. There needed to be a previous strong bond prior to death to allow someone to see you. That’s why when we sneak out at night, no one ever stops us or questions us. Remember that one night when there was a cop on the road and you pulled me into the bushes, worried we would get in trouble for breaking curfew?” Laura nodded, all the puzzle pieces beginning to fall into place…or at least a few pieces at a time. 

“Is all that true?” Laura asked her parents and they nodded.

“Seems to be so. We didn’t want to take any chances, knew we couldn’t send you to the public school or anything,” her father said, taking in a long breath.

“I know this seems ridiculous, but I need you all to know that we have had no contact with Ian’s father…the stranger of a man I married who did this. I could never find it in myself to forgive him…even when I got Ian ‘back’,” Angela stated. Laura watched her mother nod and then took Angela’s hand, and in this motion of forgiveness, Laura’s heart melted. She realized how much her parents had to sacrifice as well, the lives they too had to give up.

“Is that why we moved?” Laura asked, remembering the night she found the brief blurb of their about their house throughout her research.

“Yes. It may have been the wrong decision, or the right one, considering,” her father began, pointing to she and Ian, “but we wanted to shield you from this haunting truth for as long as possible.”

“I feel lied to,” Laura said bluntly and she saw tears form in both of her parents’ eyes.

“Laura, there isn’t a rule book for this. We had no idea what to do, we still don’t. We just know how much we love you.”

“What does this mean for me, for us, now?” Laura asked, pointing to herself and Ian. Ian wrapped an arm around her.

“At least we can see one another,” he whispered and she smiled, the first true smile she had formed in over a day.

“It means whatever you want it to mean. In a town that houses so many dead, we hoped that this might be a therapeutic environment for you,” Laura’s mother said honestly.

“I have actually found it to be really helpful,” Ian added and Laura trusted him, more than she had before even, his path and journey being aligned to her own, him leading the way and guiding her bravely.

“This is just so much to take in,” Laura said and they all agreed.

“This is a lot for all of us,” Angela breathed.

They spent that weekend together, the six of them, sobbing, talking, discussing, even laughing a few times. They worked through it all together as best they could, and the best that stood by Laura’s side, and understood it all in a way that no one else ever would, was Ian.

Their futures were bonded together just as their past was. Their snow like hands would mold together, their cold kisses embracing one another, their stunning eyes generating electricity throughout the other. Ian and Laura spent the remainder of that year each living with their parents, still spending every night together, however no longer in hiding. They would watch movies and make pizzas, or carve pumpkins in the fall, laughing and joking with one another around Halloween. During the winter, they would go in Ian’s backyard and make snow angels, Laura not overlooking the fact that she felt, in her heart and soul, that Ian was her own angel, a man who stood by her side in sickness and health, death and life.

Ian and Laura even hosted their own Senior Prom in Laura’s basement, dancing until all hours of the morning, sneaking a bottle of champagne into the basement and making love on the cold floor. Laura had even ordered a long purple dress, something outside her usual black, and Ian had lost his breath when he saw her, professing his love and her beauty to her over and over again while they twirled and danced between the four walls in which they had first met.

Some nights, Laura would look at their cold, pale hands folded into one another’s, their lengthy arms wrapped around each other’s the way branches wrap around their tree’s trunk for protection and life, and she felt blissful and loved, for theirs was one that could survive both love and death and was truly eternal.

“Next customer please!” I yelled over the busy cafe.  I’ve never seen my small little coffee place this filled with customers before. New York City was an expensive place to live in, not to mention, to open a business.  I’ve had this shop for about seven years.  I can still remember the times when all I had was one worker, one table, one chair, and one coffee machine.  It was hard and I barely brought home any money but now we were busier than ever.  We now have outside seating, vending machines, and a full staff.  I don’t know what’s causing all this commotion, but as long as it was bringing in paying customers...I didn’t mind.              

After an hour, the cafe started to slow down.  As I was cleaning up the beautiful mess, I spotted a limousine park next to the cafe. The driver stepped out in a sharp suit and came inside.

“I’m sorry, but do you work here?” He asked me.  I opened my mouth to speak but paused as I looked into his brown eyes.  He had a neat beard, curly brown hair, slightly bronzed skin, athletic build, and pleasing smile.

“Yes I do.” I finally managed to say.  “How may I help you?” I made my way back behind the counter.

“I would just like a plain black coffee.” He started to reach for his wallet in his pocket.

“That’s all?  No doughnuts?  No breakfast sandwich?  Not even a croissant?”

“What do you recommend?” His smile grew wide across his face and I found myself smiling back.

“Maybe you’d enjoy a breakfast sandwich.  They are made right on the spot.”

“Fine.  You’ve convinced me.” He laughed.  “I’ll take that as well.”

“Will you be having it here or to go?”

“Of course I would be staying here.” He turned away but then he added, “And may you please add one of those strawberry yogurts?  I’ll take the largest size you have.”

He was reading the newspaper outside when I carried the tray over to him.  He was so engrossed in it that when I placed his order in front of him, he didn’t seem to notice.

“May I ask one more favor?” He asked out of nowhere.

“Yes?”

“May you please join me?”

The request took me off guard.  Sure, I was use to the one or two customers flirting with me.  Ever since I turned 22, I shot up three inches and my breasts went up two sizes.  I guess it is safe to say that I am accustomed to getting attention.  But now I was too wrapped up in work to even dress up. I saw a reflection of myself in the cafe’s window. Everything was hiding well underneath my baggy clothes. It was hard to see my figure at all.  Not to mention my long auburn tresses was tucked in my cap.  I looked back at him and there was a warmth in his eyes.   I shrugged my shoulders and had a seat.

“Ok.”

“Good.” He smiled.  “I hope you like strawberry yogurt.” He handed it to me with the spoon.

“And what if I said no?” I laughed.

“Then I would have the strawberry yogurt.” He chuckled.  “So how long have you been working here?”

“For as long as this place has been open.”

“Oh do you know the owner?”

“I am the owner.” I smiled.

“Wow.  This is such a great place.  You should be really proud.”

“Thank you.  I’ve worked so hard to get it.  I was saving for this place ever since I was sixteen years old.  I just never liked working for others.  I’ve always wanted to be my own boss.  By the time I turned twenty-three, I had just enough money-”

“To buy the place?  That’s amazing!”

“No, I wish!  I just had enough money to qualify for a loan.” I took a huge scoop of the yogurt.  “But I haven’t looked back since.”

“That’s commendable.” He nodded his head towards me.

“Thank you.  What about you?  How long have you’ve been driving limousines?”

“What?”

“I saw you pull up in that.” I pointed to the limo that was parked nearby.

“Oh yes!  Right!  I guess you can say it’s something that I just picked up.” He chuckled.

“I’m sure you must meet some of the most fascinating people while at work.”

“Or at a coffee shops.” He ate more of his sandwich.  “So,” He picked up his cup of coffee, “If I wanted to ask you out, how would I go about that?”

“I don’t know.” I shifted in my seat.  “I usually don’t date customers.”

“Is that right?  Bad experience?”

“No it’s not that.  I just like to keep everything professional.”

“I understand.  That’s an admirable trait.”

There was a small silence between us.  He was finishing up his food and I was swirling my spoon around the already empty cup.

“You care a lot about your business.”

“You have to love what you do.”

“I started out loving what I did.  I was so immediately driven to it.  It was like this huge force drawing me near to it.  Now as I look back on all that I’ve done, it feels different.”

“Different?  How?”

“That same drive that I’ve had, it’s not there for business anymore.”

“So it’s completely gone?”

“I wouldn’t say that.” His eyes danced and I smiled back at him.  He leaned forward. “Let me take you out tonight.”

“I don’t even know your name.”

“Jonathan.”

“Just Jonathan?  How Madonna of you.  My name is Cassandra.”

“So Cassandra, will you grant me the pleasure of taking you out tonight?”

I sighed.  I could think of a million reasons why I shouldn’t go.  I had a stack of invoices waiting for me.  I was a little behind on so much work that tonight would have been the perfect time to catch up on all of it.

“You live a lot in your head, do you realize that?” He said.  “You need to loosen up a little bit.”

“Yeah I’ve been told that I can be a real stick in the mud.  I don’t think there’s nothing with hard work though.”

“I’d love to taste you?”

“What?”

“You.  I’d love to taste you.” He pointed straight at me.

“Wow.” I whispered.

I’ve never had a man be that blatant and honest with me.  Men liked to beat around the bush and then eventually let you know their true intentions.  A part of me wanted to get right up and walk out, but the rest of me stayed put.  I had to admit, he had me curious.

“Cassandra, you’re gorgeous.” He went on, leaned forward, and looked me right in my eyes.  “You’d like to think that you’re just this stick in the mud, but I can tell that’s not all there is to you.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yes.  There’s this whole other side of you, just waiting to be released.”

“Released?”

“If you’d give me the pleasure….tonight.”

He sat back and waited for my answer.  My head was still buzzing, but between my legs there was this tingling.  It was subtle when he first came in but now it was like a furnace. It was a slow building fire that was ready to set my whole body ablaze.  He did this with just a few words?  I closed my eyes and I could see him and I naked on a bed.  He was kissing between my thigh and I could feel him nearing my center with his lips.  Every time he got close he pulled away.  The moisture between my legs let me know what my answer was.

“Yes, meet me here at nine.” I told him and he smiled.  We got up and I cleared the table. I was dumping the garbage out when I noticed two of my workers making goo-goo eyes at him.  They kept pointing and whispering looking at him.  When he saw them, he gave them a nod and smile.  They broke out in giggles.

“Teenage girls.” I mumbled to myself as I made my way back behind the counter.  He paid, told me that he would see me later that night, and then exited.

“Oh my gosh!!” The girls said at the same time.  They were still staring out the door although the limo was already gone.

“What is wrong with you guys?” I started to wipe down the counter.  I needed to get a jump start for later.

“Didn’t you see who it was?” Melissa, the nineteen-year-old, gushed.  “Tarah, I don’t think she knows who it is!”

“Who are you talking about?  And what is wrong with you guys?”

“With us?” Tarah said astonishingly, “What’s wrong with you?  That’s Jonathan!!”

“Wait, how did you know his name?”

“Wow, you really have no clue who that is?” Tarah mouth was still opened.  She nudged Melissa and went out the cafe.  Before I could question my employees again, she came back in with magazine and handed it to me.

There was Jonathan.  He was on the cover of Forbes magazine.  The headline read “Billionaires” and on the side it had his full name, Jonathan Samuels, and “One of the smartest entrepreneurs turned the car service world on its head”  His brown eyes kept me locked in and his curly hair was gelled back.  He looked a little different, but it was definitely him.

“Can you believe he was here?” Tarah gasped.  “I thought he looked familiar.  I usually see him with celebrities on the blogs but I didn’t think I would ever see him here!”

“I know!” Melissa added.  “I knew something was up when he put three crisp bills in the tip jar.  I looked over and it was $300!”

“What?  When did he do that?” I whipped my head around to the tip jar.  Sure enough as clear as day, there were three green Benjamin Franklins.

“While you were putting the trash away.  I am so tweeting this.” Melissa giggled pulling out her cell phone.

I looked back at them and saw that they were so excited but all I could feel was my stomach churning.  What did I just get myself into?