Filthy Rich Bastard Page 15

  “Good to see you, Henry.” I clasped his hand and pulled him into a one-armed hug.

  “You are a welcome sight, my boy,” Henry admitted. “Coffee?”

  “Sure.” I glanced at Mia, and she nodded. “Make that two.”

  Henry barked at Jenny to bring us three coffees and motioned me towards my seat. “Please, take that damn thing back.”

  Mia laughed. I grinned at her but sank into my chair, feeling like the world was righting itself at the feel of the soft leather under my ass.

  Henry and Mia took up the two chairs on the opposite side of my desk, both looking more than a little relieved to have me back.

  Henry was first to voice his relief. “I am beyond thankful to have you back in that seat, Blake. I cannot express to you how happy I am that you got everything worked out. I couldn’t handle another week doing what you do.”

  “You’ll never have to,” I assured him.

  “Well, in that case, please cancel my coffee. I need to get home for what will feel like the first time since you left.” He smiled at me, then looked at Mia, favoring her with a grin the likes of which I hadn’t seen before and an over-exaggerated wink.

  Chapter 23

  Mia

  I sank into the mattress, closing my eyes and relishing the moment of peace and quiet. It felt like I hadn’t stopped moving since the morning before my snap decision to go visit Hudson in Santo Via Island.

  I definitely hadn’t had enough time to really reflect on everything that had happened since, much less to absorb the fact I was actually married to Hudson freaking Blake.

  It still felt like a dream sometimes, but the weight of his ring on my finger was a constant reminder that it was true, as was the fact the mattress I was resting on was his. Or ours. For however long we would be married. We hadn’t discussed that vital little detail.

  Moving in with Hudson was no picnic, but agent Benson made it clear to us at our first meeting on our return to America as a married couple they’d be conducting spot checks and everything had better be in place, even if he did like us.

  We both knew, of course, it would be inevitable that we’d have to live together for at least a little while. Then agent Benson dropped the bomb that our first home visit was already arranged for a week after our return.

  As if a starting pistol was fired, we scrambled to get our living arrangements straightened out. First, the decision about whose place we should make our home in. Hudson’s things had been moved to storage, so I figured it would be easier to move into my place.

  He disagreed, informing me he’d instructed his movers to collect his things at the same time he’d arranged our flight back to Portland. Then, he arranged for some of my things to be moved to his place. He made what I believed to be a major concession by saying I could rearrange the furniture to accommodate my stuff however I wanted to.

  I was flattered and convinced that we’d reached an acceptable compromise. Until he let it slip a few days later that a decorator had set up his place, and he didn’t really care about where anything was.

  Hudson cleared one of his guest bedrooms so I could move into it if I wanted to, but I had yet to spend one night in it. Instead, my stuff was starting to take over the master bedroom. As much as he complained about the invasion of cosmetics on his bathroom counter, he hadn’t moved a single thing.

  We passed our first home visit with flying colors. Apparently, our argument about who deserved more closet space and whether pineapple belonged on pizza had convinced the inspector we were nothing but another newlywed couple going through the motions of living together for the first time.

  It was laughable really, but we were making it work. So well even I believed it was real most of the time.

  My phone buzzed on what had become my bedside table. I propped myself up on my elbows and reached for the phone, smiling when I found it was a text from Hudson.

  Hudson: I’m running late. Leaving now, see you in 10.

  “Crap,” I muttered when I realized how much time had passed since I’d decided to lie down for just a minute. I should have been getting ready for dinner. Hudson insisted we go out that night and told me to be ready by nine.

  He had taken to sending me home from the office at a normal time, but he always stayed late himself. I kicked my efforts of getting ready into a higher gear and was just smearing on a fresh coat of lip gloss by the time I heard the main gate whirring open.

  I headed down the stairs and met him in the driveway as he parked outside the double garage. Leaving the engine running, he hopped out to open my door and kissed my cheek as he passed me. “Mrs. Blake.”

  It brought a smile to my lips every time he said it. I couldn’t resist returning the greeting. “Mr. Blake.”

  Hudson might only be mine for a limited period of time, but I was going to cherish every moment we had together. Things had changed so much between us that I often wanted to ask him if he felt the same way, but I hadn’t been able to gather the courage to do it.

  The truth was, it would crush me if he told me it was still nothing more than a business arrangement to him. It sure as hell felt like a whole lot more to me. Especially since we hadn’t slept in separate beds since we’d returned from Santo Via Island. We touched each other at every opportunity and kissed all the time. But I wasn’t ready to risk it all by asking him about it. Not yet.

  “How was your day?” he asked, tugging my hand to his lap after making sure my seatbelt was fastened.

  “It was good, I think I might have closed the Metros,” I said, referencing a band my predecessor had failed to sign despite numerous meetings and their admitted lack of adequate representation. I was really excited about it.

  “You did?” His hand tightened on mine. “That’s great news, wife.”

  “Thank you, husband.” It was kind of corny how often we referred to each other by those terms, but I couldn’t get enough of it. It was like it made the chemistry between us as tangible as the rings we both wore. It was almost enough to answer the question I couldn’t ask yet.

  Hudson pulled into the valet station at his favorite steakhouse, told the guy to take care of the car, and placed his palm at the base of my spine as he guided us into the restaurant. It still caused shivers to run up and down my back when he did that.

  The restaurant was decorated in dark wood and offered the privacy afforded by low lighting and tables set in alcoves. Hudson pulled the chair back for me and waited for me to settle in before he did the same.

  “You enjoying Maxwell’s job?” he asked. “You’re kicking ass at it.” A warm smile tugged at his lips.

  It was disconcerting how much it was starting to feel like we were a normal couple. “Yeah, I’m loving it.”

  “That’s great.” He reached for my hand, and I clasped his on the table. “Our clients can’t seem to get enough of you.”

  “Seriously?” I asked, doubting it.

  “Seriously. I’m getting too many requests for you to keep track of.” I was still not used to how honest he was with me about the business. “I’m going to have to start hiring assistants for your assistant at this rate.”

  “I don’t have an assistant, Hudson,” I reminded him, though I doubted he needed the reminder.

  “Not yet, but I’ve lined up some interviews for you next week,” he calmly informed me.

  “You what?” My voice rose higher than it should have. I took a deep breath and controlled my volume. “We’ve talked about this, Hudson. I don’t want an assistant. You were going to take on this job above everything else you do. I can manage it.”

  “I was wrong,” he said simply. “I could have handled Maxwell’s workload, not yours. You need someone to help you, not because I think you can’t handle it, but because you don’t have to be overburdened. Trust me when I tell you I didn’t make the decision lightly. Even Henry agrees.”

  “You spoke to him about this?”

  “Of course, I did. He’s the co-founder and co-owner of the label. I co
nsult with him on all these kinds of decisions. The ‘Mia’ pile on my desk is growing. We want our clients happy, and I want my wife to sleep from time to time.” He winked. “With me, of course.”

  “You have that many requests for me to take on new clients?”

  “I do.”

  “Okay, but I get to choose my assistant?” I leaned back in my chair.

  “Within boundaries, yes.”

  “What boundaries?”

  “I’ve lined up acceptable candidates, and you’ll choose between them.” Hudson’s jaw was set with determination.

  “Are there any single young men among those candidates?” I teased, finally sensing the root of his discomfort.

  “Of course,” he said, shrugging. “They just happen to be lovely young men who are interested in other lovely young men.” Hudson took possessiveness to a new level, glaring at any man who dared to so much as look at me. It was one of the things that confused me about the true nature of our relationship.

  I rolled my eyes. “No one holds a candle to my husband.”

  “True, but why risk it?” he teased me back.

  “Has anyone ever told you that you have serious issues?”

  “My wife tells me just about every day.” He grinned.

  “Perhaps she should tell you more often,” I said, but left it there. “I’ll interview the candidates on your list, but if I don’t find someone I’m happy with, I’ll compile my own list.”

  “Fine,” he conceded. “But I have final approval.”

  “Fine,” I agreed, knowing it was the only way I was going to get to eat that night.

  “Pleasure doing business with you.” He squeezed my hand and flashed me his panty-dropping grin just as the waiter appeared.

  Hudson ordered for us, knowing exactly what I wanted from the restaurant we had come to frequently. He paired it perfectly with a wine he’d introduced me to with a price tag I didn’t like to think about.

  “How about you?” I asked once the waiter left us.

  “What about me?”

  “You still happy to be back, or do you wish you were still crashing at Dakota’s, surfing Netflix?”

  Hudson scoffed. “You introduced me to Netflix, woman. Kota simply mentioned he had it.”

  “Wishing you had taken advantage of it?” I wondered if he regretted his decision.

  “Not for a second. I was chomping at the bit to get back.” His thumb brushed my knuckles. “And spending my time worrying if you were okay.”

  My heart melted the way it always did when he said such sweet things with no warning whatsoever. “I was okay. Perfect now you’re back.”

  He looked uncomfortable for a second, drinking me in as though he was trying to gauge my mood. “Speaking of worrying about you.”

  “What is it, Hudson? What’s wrong?” The blood rushed from my face at the grim expression he was wearing.

  “No, no, baby. It’s okay. Nothing’s wrong.” He was at my side in a second, brushing the hair back from my face and hugging me to his chest.

  “Then why did you look like that?” I whispered, convinced this new and wonderful world I was building for myself was about to come crashing down.

  “I just think it’s time for us to make things right with your family, that’s all,” he said, his voice low and soothing.

  “You what?” I thought my ears were playing tricks on me.

  He moved back to his seat when the waiter brought our food and poured us each a generous glass of wine. He set our food down and disappeared, leaving me to take a deep swig of the delicious wine.

  “You heard me,” Hudson said, taking a long sip from his own glass. “We need to clear the air with your family, Mia.”

  “Why?” I asked numbly. I’d accepted they would never understand why I’d done what I did and hoped they’d cool down enough by Christmas to let me come home.

  “Because they’re important to you, babe. I don’t like you’re on the outs with them because of me.” He cut a bite of his steak and chewed as he watched me mull over his suggestion.

  “That won’t be easy, Hudson. They were really hurt, even if I told them only the bare minimum.”

  I could see it tore him apart that I’d defended him to my family, even after he’d left me at the altar. From their perspective, anyway. In reality, he was protecting me, doing what he thought was best for me.

  “I know, but we need to do this. We need to make things right with them, for you.”

  Chapter 24

  Hudson

  For a guy who hadn’t been to California more than once since I’d come to America more than a decade before, it was strange to be touching down there for the second time in as many months.

  Mia’s parents had jumped at the chance to have her home for the weekend, but were more than reluctant to extend the invitation to me. They had relented only after Mia told them we were a package deal, and if her husband wasn’t welcome, she wasn’t either.

  The lengths she went to for me never ceased to amaze me. She was one of a kind, and somehow, she was all mine.

  Under the circumstances, I was surprised that she seemed completely relaxed about going home. So relaxed, she’d fallen asleep shortly after takeoff and was still dozing when we started our descent into LAX.

  “Baby,” I murmured. “It’s time to wake up, we’re almost there.”

  Her golden curls framed her face, and her sleepy eyes blinked open. “Really? That was quick.”

  She looked so fucking beautiful, even after most of her makeup had faded over the course of the day, and what little remained was smudged under her eyes. I leaned over to brush her cheek with the backs of my fingers. “Really. Have a good nap?”

  She yawned, giving me a lazy smile that made me want to rip her pencil skirt off and fuck her all the way to the other end of the globe. Or until the plane ran out of fuel.

  “I did. I didn’t realize I was so tired.”

  My eyebrows furrowed. “You’ve been working too hard, I’m going to rearrange your client roster this weekend.”

  “You will not,” she insisted, her eyes suddenly wide open and alert. “My clients are mine. You’re not touching them.”

  I smirked. “Actually, they’re ours. As in BC’s. If I assign them to a new manager, that’s just the way it is.”

  “No,” Mia pouted. “It’s not the way it is, because it’s not happening.”

  The jet taxied to a stop, and my palms suddenly felt uncharacteristically clammy. We were minutes away from seeing Mia’s family. It was not the time to pick a fight, especially not with what I had to tell them.

  “Okay, let’s table that discussion. We’ll see how you feel next week.” I reached for her hand. She sighed, but laced her fingers with mine.

  “Okay, but I’m not going to feel any differently.”

  “We’ll see. How are you feeling about being home?” I was worried about her, about what we would potentially be walking into. I wrapped my arms around her, wanting to protect her from the hurt she could be facing if her parents rejected her. Us.

  She melted into me, her fingertips tracing my spine in a way that was not conducive to anything but spurring on my plan to tell the pilot to keep flying until we ran out of fuel so I could fuck my wife the way I wanted to.

  “Not as nervous as I thought I would be.” She breathed against my chest, reminding me of what we were actually doing, not what I wanted to be doing.

  “I’ll be right there with you, baby.” I massaged her shoulders with my thumbs.

  “I know. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  “Probably not be fighting with your family in the first place?” I suggested, a wry smile on my lips. I felt like shit for having caused the rift between Mia and her family, but hopefully, we’d get that all squared away soon.

  “Oh, ha,” she replied, pulling away from me to disembark but keeping her hand in mine.

  “Just stating the simple truth.”

  “Even so, I’m glad you sug
gested it.” She smiled over her shoulder.

  The closer we got to her parents’ house, the more nervous I got. Considering the last time I’d been there, I walked out on a wedding her parents had put together with less than forty-eight hours’ notice—I wasn’t expecting a warm welcome.

  The one I got was not even cold. It was icy at best. And well deserved. Not only had I walked out of the wedding, but then I married their daughter in front of a justice of the peace without them even knowing it.

  “Mia!” her mother exclaimed, rushing to hug her before she’d managed to completely get out of the car.

  “Hi, Mom,” Mia returned her hug, glancing at me before burying her face in her mother’s hair. I knew she missed her, and felt bad about everything that had happened, given how close she was with her mother.

  Ryan swept her up once her mother let her go, turning her as I’d seen him do the first time we’d arrived. Mia’s Mom spared a quick hug for me, but Ryan bluntly ignored me.

  Charles and Mia’s grandfather waited at the front door, both pausing to shake my hand but dropping it like it burned them not a split second later.

  Unlike the first time we’d arrived, only Mia’s immediate family was there. They ushered Mia inside, leaving me behind to deal with our bags. I didn’t mind in the least.

  I was being punished. I deserved it. And I needed the time to think. I took the bags to Mia’s room, giving the family some time to talk before I joined them.

  Laughter echoed from the kitchen when I finally descended the stairs. The Doyle’s were all seated around the kitchen island, plucking freshly baked cookies from a plate at the center.

  “Hudson,” Mia called, almost like she sensed my presence.

  I rounded the corner, heading straight for her. The rest of her family fell silent, but I wasn’t going to let them intimidate me. We were there to make peace with them. That wasn’t going to happen if I avoided them all weekend.

  Besides, my fingers itched to feel Mia’s soft skin beneath them. I needed her if I was going to get through making amends the only way I knew how.