20
Making it Official
Aspen
“Put out the pule, darling.”
“Hell, no.” I spun to face Liam. “I don’t care if that cheese costs a fortune.”
He was in what I called ‘Liam casual’—pressed, tan pants and an untucked, white linen shirt.
Delicious.
I noted the bandage on the side of his neck and my belly tightened. I was so damn glad that we were alive and healing up every day.
What I felt for him, the love, grew bigger every day, too.
It had been a week since the warehouse fire and taking Nexus down.
We’d taken the week off—no work, no people, nothing but the two of us. We’d spent it all at his place having hot sex, watching movies, eating, sipping wine. We’d even sat by the fire pit on the terrace, huddled under a blanket together, watching the lights of the city.
Pure bliss.
Yes, I was falling more in love every day.
“Hey?” he said.
I looked up.
He moved in close and wrapped an arm around me. “I love you.”
God, hearing him say that turned me to mush. Here it was—I’d danced around it by saying that I was falling for him. But the truth was that I was done falling and I’d hit the bottom.
It had been a scary fall, but I was all in. This man was mine.
I pressed my lips to his. “I love you too, Liam.”
His eyes flared. “Good.” Then he reached out and patted my butt. “Come on then, love of my life. We need to finish getting the food set out before our guests arrive.”
Tonight, our friends and family were coming over for a party. We couldn’t hold them off any longer, especially the twins. They bombarded me with texts every day. I watched as Liam set out a fancy board covered in cheese, crackers, and meats on the kitchen island. He swiveled, then came back carrying a huge tray of Belgian chocolates he’d bought just for me.
The man loved spoiling me.
The other thing we’d been doing this week was dodging the press.
I’d turned in everything I had on Nexus to the police, and the crime group was now in tatters. Since Liam was involved, the story had blown wide open. Doyle had survived his surgery but was in a coma. Jackie Godin and her cohorts were in jail.
I felt a savage spurt of satisfaction.
Everyone wanted to know about Dutch Schultz’s treasure. Liam had donated it to the New-York Historical Society, and they were planning a huge exhibition.
The other piece of news that the press had lapped up was that the second billionaire bachelor of New York was off the market.
Liam had taken great delight in telling the world that he was in love with a beautiful, fascinating private investigator who’d gone undercover to blackmail a billionaire. We couldn’t leave the penthouse without a pack of paparazzi following us. The papers were full of stories of the plucky, attractive investigator who’d stolen the heart of the billionaire. Ugh.
I scowled. Every time I looked online, I was confronted with a photo of myself. The damn reporters had interviewed everyone I knew—including Mrs. Kerber, Mr. Cavonis at the convenience store, hell, I think they’d even interviewed my high school English teacher.
The doorbell rang. Liam had already told the doormen to let the guests up.
“I’ll get it,” I called out.
I ran my hands down my white slacks. I’d paired it with a silky dark-blue shirt with a deep V neck. Liam’s New York tailor had already left me a ton of messages about his ‘vision’ for my wardrobe.
I shuddered at the thought. This girlfriend of a billionaire thing was not easy.
I glanced over at him. He was popping the cork on a bottle of wine, and my gaze fell to the sharp line of his jaw.
It was so worth it.
As I walked to the door, I saw the plant that Liam had given me that morning. My insides melted. It rested in place of pride on the entry table. It was a gorgeous rose succulent in both pinks and greens, also known as Greenovia. I’d mentioned that I’d wanted one, and today he’d made it appear.
I opened the door and my insides turned to ice.
Rupert Kensington pushed inside.
“So, you’re a private investigator, I hear.” He didn’t sound very happy about it.
“What are you doing here?” I asked coldly.
“Checking on my son and his gold digger.” Liam’s father sniffed. “He can do so much better.”
I raised a brow. “I don’t live up to your standards. Boo-hoo. I’m heartbroken.” I kept my voice monotone.
Liam sauntered over. “Careful, father. Aspen will eviscerate you with utmost ease. And I’ll enjoy watching.”
Rupert turned to Liam, dismissing me. “I see you look fine.”
Liam met my gaze. “He’s here for two things. One, no doubt there are some photographers downstairs who caught some pictures of the concerned father coming to check on his son.” Liam looked back at his father, his gaze hard. “Two, to ensure the pictures of him abusing teenage girls were destroyed.”
Rupert bristled. “I try to be cordial. I have your best interests at heart. And all I get from you is rudeness.”
“Save it, Father. A smart woman told me recently that our past is our past. We learn and move on. We can’t let it drive us. You’re my past. I’m nothing like you and I want nothing to do with you.”
“Fine. You’ve always been selfish, self-important, and insolent.”
I burst out laughing. “Seriously? There wasn’t even a hint of irony as he said that.”
Liam’s lips twitched. “It sailed right over his head. He probably believes every word.”
I shook my head. “Talk about projection.”
Rupert scowled at us. “The photos?”
“Yes, here’s the real reason for the visit from dear old dad. They’re gone. Destroyed.”
The older Kensington hesitated. “You’re sure?”
“Yes, Father. Now go.”
I studied Liam’s face. I saw no sadness or anger. He looked disinterested, slightly bored. I smiled. “Let me get the door for you, Mr. Kensington.”
With a haughty look, Rupert stepped out.
I took great pleasure in slamming the door behind him.
I moved over to Liam, and he wrapped his arms around me in a firm hug.
“I love a smart, kind, sexy, wonderful man,” I said.
“And I love a smart, giving, sexy, wonderful woman.” He rubbed his nose against mine. “Think we can both put the daddy issues away now?”
I nodded.
Then he lowered his head, his lips taking mine. Mmm.
I heard a beep and suddenly, the front door opened.
“Hey, this is a party, not a kiss-fest.” Mav sauntered in, followed by Monroe and Zane.
“Party time,” I said with a smile.
Liam
Liam sipped the whisky. Not bad. It was a forty-year-old Karuizawa single malt whisky. He preferred Scotch, but Japanese whisky this good was a nice change.
“Like it?” Mav asked.
“Superb.”
“I figured I’d bring it to celebrate you not being dead, and not having to clean up a sex scandal.”