FOREVER BELOVED (Billionaire Love Series) (10 page)

He was definitely pulling my leg.

“You know, you can’t make snow angels on the
ice.”

“Doesn’t matter. It’s still fun. I’m just
gonna take it easy down here.”

“You’re taking it easy on the hard, cold
ice?”

“Yep.”

“Why don’t you get up so we can practice some
shots?”

“Again?” he groaned, rolling over on his
stomach.

We had already tried skating—a complete
disaster.

“I thought it might be fun to get out and
learn a little about hockey today,” I encouraged.

“But I’m having a good time right now.” He
rolled back over again, his belly covered in ice chips.

“Why don’t you get up, so we can do something
hockey related?”

“Okay,” he agreed, trying to get to his
feet.

He still had trouble finding his skating legs
as he planted his skates on the ice with little success.

“Do you want some help?”

“I can do it!” he insisted, as he struggled
to stand up.

With his butt in the air and his hands on the
ice, he managed to have some kind of balance. “When I’m like this,
I can stay on my feet,” he told me through his long wobbly
legs.

He definitely did not have my skating
ability. I didn’t know what to do with him. I needed help. Micah
was supposed to join us, but he was taking his sweet time getting
there.

“What did you think we were going to do
today?” I asked as he proceeded to skate bent over.

“I don’t know...maybe work on my mad ice
skating skills.”

I hid my grin at his ridiculous statement.
“Are you always this goofy?”

“Sometimes.”

“Cut that shit out, Charlie,” Micah said as
he stepped out on the ice with his skates on. “I can see you’ve
been up to your old tricks. I think you’ve tested him long
enough.”

“Oh, man, I forget you knew about that,”
Charlie said, standing up and skating with ease.

“What the hell? You can skate?” I asked in
sheer surprise.

“I can do a lot of things,” he said, skating
backward with a grin a mile wide.

“I thought you were just uncoordinated.”

“Nah, I was messing with you.”

“Did he ever tell you what he did to me when
I was dating Emma?” Micah asked, as Charlie skated circles around
us.

“Nope, but I’m interested in hearing about
it.”

“Charlie has a habit of acting bad when he
wants to see what you’re made of, don’t you?” Micah pointed his
stick in my kid’s direction.

He shrugged innocently. “Sometimes.”

I gave him a suspicious glare as I crossed my
arms. “So what did you do?”

“I may have given him a hard time.”

Micah snorted. “Yeah, right. He rammed our
golf cart Dukes of Hazzard style into a disgusting pond just for
the hell of it, after he dressed like a fool and convinced my
teammates he was special needs.”

Whoops of laughter escaped me. “No way.”

Micah shook his head. “He acted like an utter
fool. On one hole, he only used a putter. It took him twenty-five
strokes to reach the green. Yeah, it was a real joy to play golf
with Charlie,” Micah said, explaining my boy’s outrageous
behavior.

My eyes were wide with delighted outrage. “Is
that true?” I asked as I turned toward Charlie.

His brown eyes lit up with mischief as he
smirked. “Oh, yeah. I was pretty bad.”

“He got us kicked out of the golf course and
I had to lay down five K, so the golf course wouldn’t press
charges,” Micah offered.

I felt a little paternal pride at my kid’s
antics. “Oh, man! That is bad.”

“So watch him. He has a very cunning mind
that loves to think up ridiculous pranks,” Micah warned.

“I’m watching you,” I said, pointing my
fingers in a V back and forth to signal I was on to him.

He put his hands up in surrender. “All right,
all right. You got me.”

After Micah called Charlie’s bluff, we
actually got to play a little one on one. Like we were supposed to
do in the first place.

Micah stayed for a little while, but begged
off when Emma called him. We finished up as Charlie sent a couple
of zingers toward the net, scoring both times.

Sneaky bastard.

My son reminded me of my granddad.

“Wanna go get a beer?” I asked as we took off
our skates.

“Sure.”

We went out for wings and I asked him if he
played hockey growing up as we waited for our food.

“Oh, yeah, I played. Are you kidding? My mom
is a hockey nut. She watches all of the Baltimore Gator games.”

“Really?” I asked, surprised.

“Yep. It’s one of her favorite things.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“I’m gonna guess there’s a whole lot you
don’t know about my mom.”

“Maybe.” I took another swig of my beer,
wondering what else I didn’t know about Marla. “That reminds me, I
know you’re mine, but for legal reasons, I would like to get a
paternity test done. Are you cool with that?”

He grabbed a napkin. “Sure. You want my spit
right now?”

I laughed “No, but thanks for the offer. I’ll
have a technician come to you. Cool?”

“Sure.”

*****

Later that week, after I had proof Charlie
was mine, I told my father about my kid when I stopped to check up
on him. He was on the front porch, drinking his Mint Julep, taking
in the fall day.

“I’ve got a kid, dad,” I announced as I took
a seat in the other rocker on the wide plantation style porch.

He didn’t react at first, but he did reach
for his drink.

He narrowed his haughty glance at me. “How do
you know it’s yours?”

I scoffed. “Believe me, I know. He has the
Shepard nose and he looks just like me. Plus, I have the DNA proof
right here.” I patted my jacket pocket.

“Be careful, Bubba. Women are vicious
creatures.”

I knew he was referring to Marla. “Yeah,
don’t I know it? But it’s weird she never told me or asked for
support. Don’t you think that’s weird?”

“Not really. She was probably sleeping around
on you.”

“Maybe. But that doesn’t seem like
Marla.”

“You made the right call, Bubba. Your life
turned out the way it was supposed to.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Marla:

That steamy encounter with Beau unnerved me.
He revved my engine as no one else could and it had taken all of my
self-control to walk away from him.

Part of me—the wicked part—wanted to give in
to his seductive demands. Yet, I wasn’t sure if I could live with
the aftermath. He was still hell bent on revenge, but I couldn’t
afford to let him devastate my life by owning me. Neither one of us
would survive that. And I didn’t want to be destroyed in the wake
of his wrath.

Secretly, I knew Beau couldn’t live with
himself if he hurt me, but he was doing his best to convince
himself otherwise. So I went about my business and tried to stay
out his way, which wasn’t hard because there was radio silence on
his end.

Things stayed that way until one morning when
I got yet another one of his surprises. A white manila envelope
with the address of Hughes, Miller, and Associates caught my
attention as I examined a pile of the salon’s mail in my
office.

I slid the letter open and found a cryptic
note inside.

It read:

Ms. Matthews,

It is my duty to inform you that Beau
Shepard is bequeathing a trust on Charles Beau Matthews. At your
earliest convenience, please contact Mr. Shepard for further
instructions.

Sincerely,

Graham Hughes, Esq.

Great, another set of directives involving
Beau.

I didn’t know what his angle was this time. I
really hoped he wouldn’t try to use our son against me somehow. He
wasn’t gonna like my mama bear claws coming out if he messed with
our kid.

Not wanting to wait, I called him up while I
still had a couple of minutes before my next client.

“What is this?” I asked as soon as I heard
Beau come on the line.

He ignored the irritation in my voice. “You
must be talking about the letter one of my attorneys sent you. We
need to discuss this in person. Are you available this
afternoon?”

His professional tone took me off-guard.
“Um...I’m done with my last client at one.”

“Perfect. I’ll pick you up.”

“Why do you need to come get me?” I asked
suspiciously.

“You’ll see. Just be ready.”

Click.

The line went dead.

I shook my head as I put my cell phone down
on my desk. Charly did the same thing when I talked to him on the
phone— like grandson like grandfather.

The rest of the day slipped by; and after I
ate a spinach salad, I slipped outside, enjoying the warm
afternoon. I sunned myself for a few minutes as I sat on the bench
outside the salon. I loved the warm rays caressing my bare
shoulders.

I needed to get home and spend some time in
the garden. I was eager to dig up some lettuce, cucumber and tomato
for a fresh summer salad. Hopefully, this thing with Beau wouldn’t
take long.

Checking my phone for the time, I noticed a
black SUV pulling up to the curb of the parking lot.

Great.

Mr. Sexy was right on time.

Beau:

The driver opened the door and Marla stepped
into the Escalade. Her hair was down, still as shiny and pretty as
it was in high school. She was dressed simply in a pair of jeans
and a white blouse, which made her glow with that damn radiance I
found so distracting.

“Don’t you have a regular car?” she asked,
looking at the SUV’s dark interior with the seats facing each
other. “Why do we have to drive around in this?”

“Because I didn’t want to have to drive and
discuss this with you.”

“Why? Is it bad?”

“Not really. I just thought this way would be
easier.”

“Then, let’s get to it. What do you need from
me?”

“I need your signature on some trust papers
for Charlie.”

“Why do you need my signature?”

“Because you’re his mother and I’m not
letting him touch a dime until I’m satisfied he can handle it.”

She was immediately defensive. “Your son is a
great kid. He’s earned his accounting degree while maintaining a
3.8 grade point average. He comes to work every day and does a
great job with the salon’s books. I agree he needs to grow up some,
but I wish you would give him the benefit of the doubt.”

“So I should let him have the hundred million
in his trust fund right now?”

Disbelief spread across her face as her mouth
fell open. “What?”

“Yeah, this kid is going to be beyond rich
and I want to make sure he can handle it.”

“I thought you were gonna give him like a
couple thousand or something like that.”

“Do you even know how wealthy I am?”

She shrugged. “No. I knew you did well, but I
never paid attention, I guess.”

Despite my underlining anger toward her, I
loved hearing that. Marla had never been impressed by money.

“Well, Charlie’s my only heir and I want to
take care of him.”

She glanced at me nervously. “I don’t know,
Beau. That’s too much money. I don’t want him spoiled and unwilling
to work because he doesn’t have to. I don’t want him to give up on
his dreams.”

“That’s why this trust needs to be set up in
the right way.”

I held out my hand. “Well, give me the papers
to look over.”

“I don’t have them with me.”

“Where are they?”

“We’re about to get on my plane and go get
them.”

“Can’t you just fax or email the papers over
to me?”

“No. That isn’t possible. We have to do this
in person.”

“That seems so old-fashioned.”

“It is. But it’s the way things get done
right.”

“All right. Let’s go on a plane ride,” she
sighed. “Is this going to take the rest of the day?”

“It might,” I answered cryptically, as we
sped toward the airport.

I wanted to get her alone, somewhere
beautiful and secluded. I wasn’t giving up on the idea of having
her in my bed for a long weekend.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Marla:

We drove out onto a small strip of land where
an old municipal airport sat. The tarmac was empty, except for one
spit and polished private jet waiting outside a hangar. We boarded
the fancy plane, sporting all kinds of bells and whistles.

The interior was warm and inviting. Two
couches, one teal, one light brown leather were along the far wall.
They were clustered together with several chairs, which made for
two separate sitting areas. The teal and tan upholstery made the
dark wood of the chairs pop while a flat screen TV was against the
back wall, just in case someone wanted to catch a movie or a
game.

The whole setup made me think of a flying
living room.

“Wow. Do you always travel in style like
this?” I asked, staring at the plush teal couch surrounded by
comfortable chairs.

“Absolutely.”

“Must be nice. I think I’m lucky if I get a
window seat when I fly or an upgrade on a hotel room.”

“Then you should enjoy the ride,” Beau said,
brushing past me with his computer bag in hand.

He was wearing a white button down shirt,
open at the top, which was tucked into a pair of dark designer
slacks that highlighted his long legs and great ass. His sleeves
were rolled halfway up, like he had been working hard all day on a
project, which demanded his full attention, while his five o’clock
shadow gave him a slightly dangerous vibe.

I tried to ignore how delicious he looked.
“This is really your plane?” I asked again, taking another glance
around.

“Yeah, it’s one of them.”

My mouth went slack in shock. “You have more
than one plane?”

“I do. I have a fleet of planes.”