Charming You (Thirsty Hearts Book 1) (31 page)

M
icky called
her boss from Nick's office to tell him that she needed to take a couple of days off. Then, Nick walked her down to her car, wanting to make sure she was okay to drive.

On his way back in, he saw Tom Moran stepping out of Bob Stratford's office at the end of the hall. Nick steadied himself and kept from rushing the jackass and knocking him silly. Tom looked at his watch and hustled to the elevator. Once he'd left, Nick raced to Bob's office, not stopping to get permission to enter from Bob's secretary.

"Bob, we need to talk," Nick said, then halted mid breath. Jonah Moran sat across the large desk from Nick's boss.

"Nick, good. I was about to call you. The Morans are finally ready to put forward an offer for Azur."

"Really? I thought we were stepping back from that since the price is still too high."

"My father thinks he has a way of stalling talks with Midsummer. Something about some leaks from Azur execs that were helping a competing bid," Jonah explained.

Nick looked at him, incredulously. Jonah had no idea that the competing bid in question was theirs and that the "leaks" were sprung at his father's behest.

"Interesting. Look, Jonah, I need to chat with Bob about another matter briefly. It's urgent. Would you mind?"

"No. I'll step to the restroom." He rose from his chair and left the room.

"Kicking a client out of my office, Nick?" Bob chastised him, barely looking up from his papers.

"Do you have any idea what Tom Moran is pulling? He'll get my friend fired all for something I did without her knowing," Nick fumed.

"To be fair, Nick, she should have taken more care with what she said to you," Bob replied.

Weasel.
"You're supporting this."

"He's the client. He asks us to assist with their offer. That's what we'll do. There's no guarantee that Azur will accept it or that your girlfriend will lose her job. If she does, what can you expect? You should have been more careful than to dicker around with some woman behind Tom's back."

"Behind Tom's back? I don't know what story he told you, but I wasn't engaged to Tom. I was engaged to his daughter, and I didn't do anything behind her back. We broke up. It's not my fault they have the worst family dynamics in history."

"Nevertheless. What the client wants, the client gets. Don't make this difficult, Nick. You're already on this ice here, skating by on the fact that you brought us this business in the first place."

Bob finally glared up at him over his reading glasses.

"What's next? I'll have to go through with the wedding to make Tom happy?"

"Your personal life is of little or no interest to me. I spent the last hour holding on to this business and arguing as to why you shouldn't be fired. Gratitude might be in order," he snapped.

Fury roared in Nick's veins. "Thank you. I appreciate what you did for me, but you wasted your time. I quit."

"Don't be rash. You could still make partner within the year. This misguided attack of conscience is nothing more than growing pains."

"No. I'm not going to stand by and profit while something I did potentially hurts so many other people. You want Tom Moran that bad? Good luck with him. I'll clean out my desk today."

"Nick—" Bob began to speak with his arms spread wide in exasperation.

"I've enjoyed working for you, Bob. Mostly."

Nick sauntered out, feeling a lightness of being that shocked him considering the trouble he and Micky still faced.

He crossed paths with Jonah as he headed back toward Bob's office.

"You guys, done? I have a couple more things to discuss with your boss."

Nick halted in the hallway. Despite his parentage, Jonah had always been fair, and he had a feeling that Tom's son would have more ammunition that he did.

"Jonah, I need your help," Nick said and dragged him back to what would only be his office until the end of the day.

L
ess than a day later
, Nick sat in Micky's living room and vowed to get Jonah a hell of a Christmas present. Ophelia sat with her tail wagging and soft, brown eyes fixed on his plate of blueberry pancakes. The living room smelled of syrup and frying bacon.

"I don't think your mother would be happy if I gave you pancakes," he told the beagle. She ignored him and whined.

"No, I wouldn't," Micky said, coming into the room with bacon on a paper towel-lined plate. She offered some to Nick, and he gladly took a couple of pieces.

"I talked to Jonah. It's done," he told her.

Micky gave him that familiar suspicious look. He vowed never to do anything again to earn that look.

"I have to be sure," she replied.

"Be sure. You're not getting fired. Taryn's not getting fired. Your company can proceed with Midsummer unencumbered. I'm out of a job, but that's my fault."

"Yeah, it is," Micky said, rubbing the back of his neck and laughing.

Nick had simply explained to the younger Moran what his father was doing to him, to Vivienne, and to numerous other innocent people. He prepared to launch a full argument about truth and justice that would have made Clarence Darrow proud, but even-tempered Jonah, consistently bored by the machinations of business, had agreed to help instantly.

"My dad has more money and influence than is good for him, but not so much that he'd get Vivienne down the aisle. I gather from a conversation with my father, that he knows Vivienne's secret. I guess the only shocking thing about my sister's sexual orientation is how convincingly we all pretend we don't know."

After that revelation, Nick had thought they'd hunker down in his office and strategize how to stop Tom, but the meeting took less than ten minutes.

"We don't need to move Heaven and Earth. I'll have a talk with my father. There are things I know that he doesn't know that I know, and he's about to find out."

Jonah's cryptic riddle probably had something to do with Trevor Sitges.

"Hasn't your family had its fill of blackmail?"

Jonah had snickered. "I swear, Nick. It's like you've just met my family. It's sad, but this is how you out-Moran a Moran."

Once again, Nick let the subject drop. The less involvement he had, the better.

Jonah left, and Nick rustled through the storage room for boxes and packed up his office. He didn't take much. His framed degrees. The pictures of his nieces. A few law books that belonged to him and not the firm.

Everything else, he left behind, including his firm-issued cell phone. He backed up his contact list and wrote down the one number he'd need to call as soon as he got to the store and bought his new phone.

He called Micky on the way to her house, where he'd spent the night waiting for resolution. On the couch. He had some making up to do.

M
icky carried
her empty plate back into the kitchen, grabbing her phone and the thick business card out of her purse. She and Nick had a phone call to make.

Somehow, Nick had made her world right. It made no sense. She should still be furious, but the sight of Nick on her couch, rumpled and carefree, calmed her nerves.

"You know, it may not be too late for you to get your job back," she noted hopefully.

"Maybe not, but it's too late for them get me back. That place would only steal more of my soul. I don't belong there."

Micky smiled against Nick's cheek, planting a kiss and running her hand down his back.

"I've never been so excited to have an unemployed boyfriend."

"So, I'm your boyfriend again?"

"You're my boyfriend still." She kissed him again.

"Always—I hope."

Micky grinned at him. "Phone call."

She started to dial the number on the card.

"What are you going to say?"

"I don't know. Play it by ear."

She put the phone on speaker and waited.

"Hello?" the voice rumbled.

"Mr. Moran. This is Micky Llewellyn. I wanted to let you know my answer to your offer as soon as possible. I know you were in a dreadful hurry."

"Is this a joke?"

"No," Nick said. "Not a joke."

"Unfortunately, Nick and I won't be breaking up anytime soon," Micky explained.

"I've already had this conversation with my son. So, save it. I suppose you're enjoying this, Nick, but this little victory lap is going to make our working together rather awkward, don't you think? I'm still the key to your career, son. Don't forget that."

"I'm not your son. Won't ever be, and you and I won't be working together—ever—if I can help it. I'm not longer employed at Winston Stratford."

"They fired you after all."

"No. I quit," Nick announced.

"You're a fool."

"Probably."

"So, you have your answer," Micky continued. "You have a lovely day."

She tapped the
end
button and flopped over into Nick's lap, cackling.

"That was probably childish," she admitted, still laughing. She gazed up at him.

"Do you feel better?" he asked.

"I do."

"Then, screw him," Nick said, playing with her hair. "Saying that makes me feel better."

"You almost married into that wackadoodle family."

Nick groaned. "I know. You saved me. I'm warning you now. I'm going to need a lifetime to make this up to you."

"I may be able to give you a lifetime."

They stopped laughing for a moment, transfixed by each other's eyes. Nick crunched down and touched his lips to hers. She pushed him back and sat up.

"I love you," Nick affirmed.

"I love you, too."

"I've picked the worst times to say it to you, but I've always meant it—even when I was doing stupid things. I'll never regret anything as much as regret hurting you. I'm hoping we can start over again."

"We could, but I'd rather start from where we are. Right now." Micky climbed onto his lap, straddling him and pushing him back against the sofa cushions with the force of her kiss. They had laid bare all their worries, secrets, and insecurities. She had nothing left to hold back. Their lips parted.

"I forgive you. I love you. I want you," she told him.

Nick lifted up and flipped her onto her back. His hand slid under her T-shirt and quickly found the swell of her breast. The light scraping of his palm on her nipple squeezed tension from her belly to between her legs.

He feasted his emerald eyes on her. "Thank you."

She grinned. "You know how you can thank me?"

"How?"

"Take me to bed."

"
M
istletoe
. Kissy, kissy," Jeff's six-year-old daughter Olivia exclaimed at Micky and Nick.

Nick looked up at the bushy twigs hanging under the archway to Jeff's living room. He grabbed Micky around the waist and tipped her back for a swooping, dramatic kiss. Olivia whooped, and Taryn laughed.

Jeff and Taryn had invited the newly official couple over to Jeff's the day after Christmas. Nick relaxed for the first time in two days after spending the holiday first with Micky's brother, stepmother, and soon-to-be sister-in-law, and then with his family.

Pete Llewellyn had been polite, but still miffed at all that Nick had done to his sister. Nick took it in stride. On Christmas Day, his mother overflowed with excitement about meeting Micky. Nick put the number of secret winks and thumbs up he'd received from his mother at about one hundred. He was happy to have a girlfriend everyone adored and who didn't harbor a secret desire for other women.

"We know that you got Micky that beautiful platinum bracelet, but what'd you get him?" Taryn asked. Curiosity put an extra sparkle in her blue eyes.

Micky turned her wrist over at the mention of his gift and smiled at him. "A key to my place. He's moving in."

Taryn squealed. "You're kidding. Congratulations!"

"We talked about waiting, but then I figured, why? I'm ready. He's ready. We just have to pack up the four things he has in his apartment and bring them to my place in a shopping bag."

Nick chuckled. "It's not that bad."

Micky playfully poked him in the shoulder.

"When are you moving?" Jeff asked.

"New Year's Day," Micky and Nick said in unison.

"New beginnings are all around. We'll be in Napa checking out the wedding venue I want. It's suddenly available. I can't believe our luck," Taryn explained.

"You've been in love with that place for years," Micky replied.

"Should I be worried that she had the wedding mostly planned by the time we met? I know she does events for a living, but I'm scared." Jeff feigned fear and making a stabbing gesture with his hand.

"Trust me. I wouldn't marry just anyone. You had to meet several qualifications as you know," Taryn insisted.

Nick could tell she meant it. Jeff and Taryn shined with their love for each other.

"Are you and Miss Micky getting married?" Olivia asked.

"Olivia, that's not a polite question to ask." Jeff scolded her gently.

Nick grinned. "That's okay. I spent all day yesterday with my family, and that prepped me for just this occasion. Someday."

Nick wanted a family—like this one—complete with eggnog Christmases and kids who asked impertinent questions. After all he and Micky had gone through, her open heart sent his soaring.