Torn:Billionaire Bachelors Club #2(27)

She eventually divorced him, not that anyone could blame her. Though her  mama acted like she thought her daughter was going straight to hell.

Sometimes, I really despise being a part of such a traditional family.

"I'm not going to Italy," I say vehemently. She needs to know that suggestion can't even make its way onto the table.

"Fine. Break up with him. Find something else to do. Go work with Gina  at the hotel. You need to do something. Unless you have no problem  living here with us for the rest of your life, unmarried and miserable."

"Are you living in the stone ages? What in the world is wrong with you?"  I stand, glaring down at her. "You act like my being single and jobless  is a kiss of death!"

She stares up at me pointedly, not saying a word.

She doesn't have to. I heard what I said. And it's slowly sinking in  that yes, indeed, being single and jobless is the kiss of death.

For me.

Yet again, proving how life can change in an instant. I've gone from bad to fabulous to absolutely terrible.

All in the matter of approximately four weeks.



Gage

"I LOVE AUTUMN Harvest." Ivy sighs, scrolling through the photos of the  bakery I just uploaded on my laptop from my phone. "But we can  definitely spruce it up for her. I'm almost finished with Matt's job and  have something lined up right after it, but I can do this on the side.  The bakery and café already have good bones, so it won't be too  difficult. I can put something together quick."

"I don't want some slapped-together job, Ivy," I warn her, scrolling  through the photos of the bakery that's so much a part of Marina, I  can't imagine her not working there.

The bakery I now own. The building I'm going to give her as a gift.

Right before I ask her to marry me.

"I still can't believe you're doing this." Ivy smiles at me, slowly  shaking her head. "I never thought I'd see you fall, Gage. You were such  a jackass about Archer and me getting together. And now look at you."

"Hey, I was trying to protect you. I know how Archer is. Was," I correct when she sends me a pointed look.

"And I know how you were. A workaholic stick-in-the-mud who only found pleasure with the many cars you purchased."

Jesus. She makes me sound like a total loser. "Thanks a lot," I mutter.

She nudges me. "I only say that because I'm your sister, and I can be  brutally honest." Pausing, Ivy contemplates me. "Can I tell you  something else?"

"Can I handle it?" I ask warily.

"Oh yeah." She smiles, her eyes going soft, almost misty. She's so damn  sentimental lately, I don't know what's wrong with her. "Marina is so  good for you. And you're good for her. I love seeing the two of you  together. I'm so excited. And thankful I like her."

"Yeah?" An ache forms in my chest, making me grab my sister and pull her  in for a hug. "Thanks, Ive. It means a lot to have your approval."

"You're welcome." She pulls away from me, pressing her hand against the  side of my head. Her eyes are swimming with tears. "I'm so glad I get  along with Marina. She's going to make a great sister-in-law."         

     



 

"Why are you crying?" I catch a tear with my thumb as it slides down her  cheek, worry consuming me. My sister doesn't cry much. She doesn't have  reason to cry. Archer keeps her too damn happy for her to ever be sad.

"Don't worry about me." She waves a hand, sniffing loudly. "I'm just pregnant."

"What the hell?" I stare at her, overcome with . . . all sorts of  overwhelming emotions. Happiness. Shock. And plenty of murderous  thoughts because holy hell, Archer impregnated my sister? I could kill  him.

"Stop looking like you want to kill Archer." Reaching out, she grabs my  hands, clasping them tightly in her own. "This is a good thing. We're  going to have a baby." She sniffs, the tears streaming down her cheeks  freely now. "I'm so ha-happy."

"You don't look or sound happy to me. Jesus, Ive, you're not even married yet! Mom's gonna have a cow."

Ivy burst out laughing, looking like a hysterical mess. Mascara-streaked  tears line her face as she laughs. "You sound just like you did when we  were kids."

"Well, it's true. She's going to flip. She's been working on your  wedding for months." Years, probably, not that I'm going to say it. Our  mom's been living for this moment and now Ivy's going to waddle down the  aisle with a big ol' belly?

Yeah. That'll go over real well.

"We're bumping the wedding date up a few months. Mom already knows. So does Dad," she says.

"And Archer?"

Ivy rolls her eyes. "Of course, he knows. What, you think I'd leave the  father of my baby as the last to know? I don't think so."

"No, you leave that honor to the uncle of your baby." I smooth her hair  out of her eyes, feeling overprotective of my baby sister . . . who's  going to have a baby. Holy hell, this is crazy.

"We haven't had a chance to talk, and you've been so busy." She grabs  hold of my arm, giving it a squeeze. "Don't tell Marina. I want to tell  her, but I couldn't tell her if you didn't know."

I hug her again because I can't resist, kissing her forehead. "I'm so  happy for you, Ive. Even happy for that bastard you're going to marry. I  hope you know what you're getting into."

"I do." She smiles as she withdraws from my embrace. "No regrets. I'm the luckiest girl in the world."

I hope someday I can make Marina half as happy as Archer makes my sister.



I LEFT ARCHER and Ivy's house to head back to St. Helena and the bakery.  I've been planning this surprise for Marina for weeks, in the midst of  taking over the properties her family sold to me. I kept that from her  too, despite Archer's incessant nagging that I was making a huge  mistake.

But it wasn't because I'm trying to hurt her or close down the bakery  without her knowledge. This is my gift to her, ensuring the bakery stays  within her family, where it belongs. I've already started the process  and the paperwork's being drawn up. I plan on eventually handing over  the deed for the bakery to her.

Now I gotta figure out how to make this surprise announcement to her  without freaking her completely out. I can't make too big of a deal  about it. I need to tell Gina too. Ivy's in on it because she can't wait  to help redesign the interior, her services free of charge, a gift to  both me and Marina.

Marina's going to love it. So is Gina. Archer, not so much, because he's  trying to steal Gina away from Marina every chance he can get.

Such a greedy jackass, though I can relate.

I enter the bakery, the familiar, delicious scent of bread baking  hitting my senses, making my stomach rumble despite not really being  hungry. I wave to Eli at the counter and head into the kitchen where I  find Gina shedding her apron and hanging it on a wall hook.

"Well, well, look who the cat dragged in." She tsks and shakes her head. "How you doing, Pretty Boy?"

Thank God I've been upgraded from Boy Toy. She still calls Archer Rat Boy, which he deserves. "I'm great. Where's Marina?"

"Not in. She went home earlier, said she didn't feel well."

I frown. She never let me know. "Is she all right?" I'm extra sensitive,  I guess, because of my sister's major announcement, and I wonder: What  would that be like, being with Marina? Getting her pregnant, watching  her body shift and change, her belly full of my baby?

That strange ache seems to strangle my heart again, and I rub at my chest absently, wondering what the hell is wrong with me.

You're in love, you idiot. You'd do anything for that woman constantly in your thoughts.         

     



 

"I'll call her," I say, watching as Gina gathers her purse from the  closet she keeps it in and her sweater. "Mind if I go hang out in her  office for a bit so I can call her in there?" I'm going to grab a few  old brochures I know she keeps stashed in her bookshelf and give them to  a marketing specialist I've worked with in the past. I plan on having  some new materials created, along with a new logo.

Oh yeah, I have lots of plans. And all of them are going to blow Marina's mind. Make her love me that much more.

I wander into her office, searching her tiny bookshelf, plucking first  one, then a few other old advertising pieces I can find. Two brochures, a  couple of postcards, all of it's good to show the graphic designer.

Sitting behind her desk, I call her on my cell but get no answer. Send  her a text asking if she's feeling okay, but again, no reply. Grabbing  the brochures, I stack them neatly atop the desk, the edge of the  cardstock nudging her mouse, and her monitor lights up, the security  business site I know she uses at the bakery coming up on screen.

Squinting, I look at the black and white, slightly fuzzy image, noticing  that it's a man, bent over . . . a woman? I see that the image is  paused; this is actual footage taken within the bakery, and when I hit  play, it all becomes too clear what I'm looking at.