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Authors: Kim Karr

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BOOK: Toxic
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All mouth.

And tongue.

And a little teeth.

I was almost panting when he pulled away.

“Come on.” He grinned. “We’re in a hurry. We have a wedding to plan in less than twelve hours.”

My heart was pounding. He walked forward. I walked backward. We were in sync.

I was really going to be his wife.

He glanced at me with a slight impatience that made me laugh.

But I was already on my way. “I’m coming. I can’t help it if you distracted me.”

With his hand on the knob, he paused and looked over his shoulder. “You know, our life together is going to be great. I’m going to make sure our days are full of distractions. I want you breathless and screaming my name for the next fifty years. And I promise you—I will make you happy.”

Pleased with his confession, I leaned forward. “Just kiss me.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

I giggled as soft, wet lips met mine in a passionate kiss.

Once we broke away, tears of joy welled in my eyes as he opened the door. I couldn’t wait to get married. I wanted to be joined to him for eternity. We’d had our ups and downs and learned from our mistakes and I know we came out stronger because of them in the end.

As Jeremy stepped out into the living room, I marveled at how unfazed I was that my life was about to change. I’d always been wary of the whole
happily-ever-after
thing. I just never saw myself actually having one, but suddenly now I did. I saw it all—everything bright that my future with Jeremy held.

It was alive inside me.

For the first time ever in my life—I saw my perfect ending. He was right in front of me. My heart swelled as I watched how well Jeremy interacted with everyone I loved. And right now, in this very moment, I knew without a doubt, he would make me the happiest woman on earth.

How could he not—I already was.

And it was freeing.

EPILOGUE

The Hamptons

JEREMY MCQUEEN

Everyone has a dark side.

A part of ourselves that we are not proud of. Something that at times is hard to suppress. And I hate to admit it—but I’m no different. The good news is, I’ve tamed it. The bad news is, I have room for improvement.

I’ve come a long way.

There was a time in my life when I was nothing but a selfish fuck. I did what I wanted, acted how I pleased, without regard to who got hurt. That was who I was. I felt cheated and didn’t know what to do with that emotion. I was brooding. I was moody. I thought the world owed me. I’ll own it—most of the time, I was a prick.

And all because of the chip I had on my shoulder—I hated people with money. Couldn’t stand to be around them. They made my skin crawl and my temper flare.

It was the Lucifer in me.

When Phoebe turned her back on me that summer, I felt like I’d been there before. My life was full of people turning their backs on me—my father, my mother. Was that what I had to look forward to my whole life? Well, I couldn’t live with that. So I let her go. Yet, something inside me urged me not to and once I’d licked my wounds, I went after her.

She had lied to me about who she was.

Did she think that little of me?

I couldn’t handle that. Knowing she was one of them was one thing, but her complete disbelief in me opened an onslaught of emotion I couldn’t turn off. That wound was too deep and I left her without a second thought.

Yet everything in my life changed after that. I was surprised at how lost I felt without her. I wanted her back. I even started to wonder if it mattered that she’d lied, that she hadn’t believed in me. But that dark side inside me knew it did. So I let her go and set out to prove my worth.

The years went by and my pride, my ego, my insecurities, and our entwined past kept me away from her. After a while, I wasn’t staying away because she had money, or she grew up privileged, I’d let that go. It was more that she hadn’t trusted me enough to believe I could overcome the lie.

Then I opened my own business and entered the same world she lived in, and it was then I realized there weren’t two worlds—there was just one. There was no line in the sand. We were all the same. Maybe it was maturity, maybe not. But the lie she had told to separate her from her world wasn’t as severe as it once was and I actually understood why she’d done it.

I saw who I was.

I didn’t really like what I saw.

After that, everything was one push and pull after another. My mother. My father. My need to be more. And maybe even subconsciously my need to see her. It all shoved me to the breaking point. I had to get out of Miami and I knew just where I was going. The years had taken their toll though and even after I arrived, I never really planned to see her again. When I did, the pent-up anger I had locked away eased its way out and the sting seemed to lessen. The lies didn’t hurt so much. Yet still, I kept my distance. I feared she’d open up something inside me I’d closed long ago—my heart.

I had work to do.

I had something to accomplish. Goals I needed to reach. I couldn’t have that. But then she needed me, and I couldn’t stay away. The moment I came in contact with her, the minute she said my name—I knew she had to be mine.

Strange how easy forgiveness can be if you just let it happen. Even after she thought the worst of me, in the back of my mind I was determined to show her who I was. After all, I was partly to blame. I should have come clean from the start.

But that’s what life is all about, isn’t it.

Live and learn.

In the end, it wasn’t easy but we overcame the sins of the fathers, the sins of our past, and she became more than just mine.

She became my lover.

My friend.

My wife.

She’s a part of who I am and I never plan on losing her.

My goals in life haven’t changed, just their priorities. First in line, is to always make her happy. And first on the agenda, as promised, was to take care of the living arrangements. Which I did—very well, I might add.

Poppy sold her house and took Phoebe’s apartment on Park Avenue, where she planned to live with Chandler after his release. And in the meantime, Mrs. Bardot was keeping her busy.

It eased Phoebe’s mind to know the two women she loved so much had each other.

As for Phoebe and me, we have two homes.

The first is our permanent residence on the Upper East Side. It’s a four-story brownstone located at 169 East Seventy-first Street. And it isn’t just any brownstone either. The iconic forest green doors are a dead giveaway to any Holly Golightly fan, or so Phoebe says. It’s the place the Audrey Hepburn’s fictional character from
Breakfast at Tiffany’s
lived.

I would never have said I was a lucky man, but with Phoebe in my life, I am. I found the place by accident the day it went on the market and bought it on the spot. It has four bedrooms, five bathrooms, an enclosed solarium, three wood-burning fireplaces, and even a backyard.

Fucking perfect.

The second is our summer home in the Hamptons. It’s an older two-story house with a wraparound porch and a white picket fence Phoebe insisted we install.

It’s the house Phoebe rented that summer we met. The owner, Mr. Charleston, hadn’t been able to sell it with the real estate crash and had been renting it out for the last five years. Phoebe mentioned many times how much she loved it. When I called him and asked if he’d be interested in unloading it, he jumped at the chance.

The house isn’t crazy big.

It isn’t new.

And it isn’t located in the socialite epicenter of South Hampton either.

But Phoebe and I don’t care about any of that. What we care about is the unobstructed view of the Atlantic, the white sandy beach, and being together.

That first time I left her, I was young and immature. She’d lied to me and I felt wounded. I wasn’t sure I could ever recover from the duplicity and it wasn’t until I was actually standing in front of her that I realized I already had. She was whom I craved, needed, wanted, and seeing her made me realize nothing else mattered.

The second time I left her, I was wrecked. I had to cool off but once I did, I knew I wouldn’t survive without her. Her mother and mine might have given me the boost I needed, but I’m pretty certain I would have come around—this time. The need to find out if there was a chance for us would have eaten away at me.

There hasn’t been a day that has passed that I haven’t wanted to go after Dawson for what he did and what he tried to do. But Phoebe begged me to stay clear of him. Still, the need lurked within me every day until karma made its appearance. Recently, Page Six published an article about the new
it
couple, Avery Lake and Dawson Vanderbilt, and I thought,
fuck me very much
, the two of them doomed to each other for eternity might be just enough satisfaction for me to bear the wrongs.

Might be.

As I drove up to our summer home, I couldn’t help but grin. The white Porsche I gave her for her birthday last week remained where I parked it, the windows of the house were thrown open to let in the afternoon sun and the ocean breeze, and soft music played from inside.

I got out of my car and hurried up the stairs I still needed to fix. Moving quickly still, I flung the rickety old screen door open and yelled, “I’m home.”

Phoebe rushed to the top of the stairs. She had pinned fresh flowers in her hair and her eyes sparkled with excitement and anticipation. She twisted her butterfly ring the way she always did when she was nervous. “How’d it go?”

I tried to look grim, but I couldn’t do it. So instead, I grinned like a motherfucker. “It’s ours.”

She came flying down the stairs, her small belly looking sexier by the day.

“Slow down, the baby’s going to think he’s on a ride at Coney Island.”

She threw her arms around me. “She likes it when I move fast.”

I raised a brow.

Phoebe, being Phoebe, countered.

With the previous stress of the takeover attempt on TSC and the instability between her and me, Phoebe neglected to take her birth control. And although we hadn’t yet discussed having a family before we found out we were pregnant, we were both excited about the news. Since then, we’ve decided we want a big family.

Being an only child will do that to you.

“When do we take over?” she asked excitedly.

My gaze fell to her body. “Can I get a kiss before we talk business?”

She still didn’t like to mix business with pleasure.

Her mouth parted and she swiped her tongue along her lower lip. “No. You have to pretend we’re at the office.”

I stepped closer.

I could feel the heat rising between us.

With a huff of laughter, I told her the way it is. “I’ll pretend to be anywhere you want but that won’t change what I want to do to you.”

She took a step back. “Jeremy, I’m serious. If we can’t work together here during the week without distractions, then we’ll have to stay in the city and drive out on the weekends.”

My fingers swept down her bare arms. “I thought you liked it when I distracted you?”

Phoebe attempted to tug her hand from mine, but not hard enough. “I do. I mean I don’t. You know what I mean.”

I tried not to laugh at her as she tugged again and I freed my hold on her. “Can you explain that to me?”

She put her hands on her hips. “Tell me when we take over Finale.”

I shook my head and stared at the woman I couldn’t believe I got to call my wife.

Jamie pulled it off and we got married as planned with heaters surrounding the lower portion of Bethesda Terrace. Once Starwood took ownership of all the hotels except the two in New York City, the money from the sale went to Poppy, and Phoebe took ownership of the two remaining hotels. Instead of following through with Sinners, we did something better. We consolidated the hotels into Jet Set New York.

And business was booming because of it. In fact, the money I’d laid out to buy the shares back had been recouped.

Jet Set headquarters now resides in the former TSC office space and Hunter has taken the helm as CFO. Jet Set Miami, Jet Set New York, and the soon to be launched Jet Set Hamptons are run by both Phoebe and myself.

I took her hand from her hip—the one with the two-and-a-half-karat heart-shaped Tiffany ring that she selected in less than fifteen minutes. She said I always drew hearts on her skin with my fingertip and that was the shape ring she wanted.

With a genuine smile, I looked at her. “July first,” I whispered.

She smiled back and rested her hands on my hip. The baby wasn’t due until the end of August, and I knew she wanted to be able to help with the launch of Jet Set Hamptons so I did the best I could to drive the deal forward. Her arms circled me and her fingers slipped inside my waistband.

My cock twitched. “I tried for sooner, but it was a no go.”

“It’s perfect,” she said, pressing her fingers into my skin.

I think she was happy.

I drew in a breath that quickly became a gasp as her fingers slid down a little. “Good, on to the next order of business.”

“What would that be?” Her words came out scratchy and hoarse.

My lips fell on hers and I kissed her with everything I had. Just as the passion started to flare, I pulled back and let my gaze fall to her body.

She was flushed from head to toe.

I liked getting her all stoked and then making her wait.

Taking my time, I followed every curve from her neck to her toes. “You can’t dress like this during work hours if you don’t want me to be distracted.”

She shifted her hips a little. “You said you wanted to go out for a swim before my mother and Mrs. Bardot arrived, so I got ready.”

Ahhh, she liked to make me wait too.

I was having none of that. I had to move things along. My hands skimmed down her body. “That reminds me, Jamie called. He and Lindsay are coming for dinner too.”

She pushed herself into me. “Oh good. I can’t wait to see them.”

This was probably not the best time to sneak this in but I had to. “And Kat will be here this weekend to review Miami operations.”

She narrowed her gaze. “As in here, here?”

I nodded and narrowed my eyes at her. “Yep, that’s what I said. She’s coming here, as in her feet will be on this very floor.”

Phoebe made a fierce noise.

“Did you just growl?” I had to ask.

Her mouth dropped open. “I did no such thing. I just can’t believe you invited her to stay with us.”

My lips quirked up. “Admit you growled.”

She shook her head.

“Would you rather I fly down to Miami?” A few days ago, the doctor had told Phoebe she shouldn’t travel too far at this late stage of her pregnancy.

Phoebe made that noise again.

At this point, I decided it was probably best if I dropped it. She and Kat would find their way one of these days. I bent my head to brush my lips over the exposed skin of her shoulder. “You should probably know, bikinis, covered up or not, will always distract me.”

She smiled brightly. “I know that.”

She was so easily distracted lately.

I bit down on her shoulder. “Then why did you scold me?”

She moaned a little. “Because it’s fun.”

I ran my hands up and down her dress. It was tight and skimmed all her curves as well as her protruding belly. “I have something much more fun it mind.”

Her fingers traced my erection. “Swimming?”

I tried to laugh, but it came out more like a groan. “No, not swimming. Not now anyway.”

She looked down at her belly. “Too bad, she likes it when we swim.”

I took a step forward and nudged Phoebe toward the stairs. She took one step back. I took one step forward. “That’s because he’s going to be an Olympic swimmer.”

She giggled. “Holly could go for the gold too, you know.”

I eased her down onto the third step. “Holly, huh . . . I like it.”

She smiled at me. “You do?”

I took her wrists and pinned them above her head. “I do, but there’s no way we’re calling the baby Fred if it’s a boy.”

BOOK: Toxic
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ads

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