Manhattan Millionaire: Book Three in the Kendall Family Series Page 3

  “No need for a reminder,” she agrees with a small noise of frustration. “Too much of my relationship with James was spent trying to convince him that he’s not the guardian of the bloody universe. Come on, then. We’ll catch a ride back together. James was at it all day, training for the upcoming fight like a madman, so he’s likely out cold. I fancy the idea of bed myself.” Rubbing her belly, she winks. “This little one has become more active than a pack of flies at a barbecue.”

  As we make our way out of the bar, I’m struck with an odd sensation. It trickles down the back of my neck, giving me the feeling of deja vu, only something more serene. The club—filled with loud music, a rustic smell, and the charm that comes with metal ceilings and rock and roll memorabilia—is the kind of place I could see myself growing to love, even though it’s normally not my scene.

  Something about this little corner of Brooklyn Heights gives off vibes that make me feel at home. I haven’t a clue whether or not it has anything to do with its charming owner, or if I’ve finally found a place where I may actually belong. Either way, for the first time since leaving Texas, I sense that I’ve made the right decision in coming to New York.

  Chapter 3

  NOLAN

  After Avery pitched a royal fit at the bar, I convinced Hope to close up so I could ride along to the airport. I wasn’t prepared for the disappointment that struck when I realized Shar and Sofia had split without letting me know. Then again, it was probably good she got the hell out of there before I did something asinine, like admit that a business dinner wasn’t what I really wanted. I actually don’t know what it is I want from her, other than I don’t want her to disappear out of my life again.

  Avery stares out the window of the private car, her beautiful features highlighted by the bright lights of the city. It’s a little reminder how, at times, I’m still able to find her irresistibly sexy, even if her personality has drastically changed. The Avery I first met would’ve been up for a round of goodbye sex even with a driver behind the tinted glass, but now she’d protest that her hair would get messed or she’d wrinkle her clothes. Sometimes it’s like she’s fucking repulsed by touching me.

  Things in our relationship weren’t always shit. After first meeting at a rooftop party, I took her out for dinner and discovered she was the daughter of a real estate mogul, satisfying my rule of not becoming involved with anyone who’s after my inheritance. Factor in her drop-dead gorgeous body, a career in merchandising, and her eagerness to get on her knees to suck me off on our second date, and I was sold that she could actually be my future wife.

  In the beginning, she was a hell of a lot of fun. She proved to be a diehard socialite who was interested in a good time, and her appetite for sex was insatiable. She begged me to fuck her on the bar’s stage a mere week after we met. It wasn’t until three months later that the little things began to change. She endlessly complained when I wouldn’t take her to meet my parents. One night she announced that she was bored by music, and said she was done coming to Leona’s. Recently she started insisting that I sell the bar. And she’s been on a mission to find a new place for us to live together, saying my apartment is too much like a bachelor pad.

  Most of all, her behavior is sporadic and unpredictable. One minute she’s talking a mile a minute and excited about fuck all, the next she’s agitated and sleeping all hours of the day. A couple weeks ago, I came home to discover she had ordered curtains that were outrageously priced in an attempt to “brighten things up.” The very next morning she was ranting about how I spend too much money on “shit” and had cut up all the credit cards in my wallet.

  Before I could process what was happening, she’d become uninterested in sex and completely vested in attending the opening of every hot club in the city. With her friends. For a solid month I’ve come back from closing down Leona’s to discover she’s still out. Whenever I’ve tried to confirm that she made it home safely, it somehow becomes an ugly argument. Sometimes I swear to God the woman I first fell for has been replaced by a doppelgänger.

  More times than I can count, I’ve tried to tell her it’s over. I even picture how it would all play out in detail: she’d be angry and play the scorned victim until another guy caught her eye, then I’d become part of her past. The fact that we’d both get over it and move on without too much trouble is probably a good indication this thing between us isn’t anything special.

  But each time I bring it up, she refuses to acknowledge the idea, and I begin to question myself. Avery may not be perfect, but my cowardly side doesn’t want to spend forever alone. I’ve gone twenty-seven years without a serious girlfriend, and don’t intend to continue playing the role of a wealthy Manhattan bachelor into my thirties. That shit’s getting real old, real fast.

  We’re nearly to the airport when Avery turns to me, her expression pinched. “Once we start having babies, you know you won’t have a choice any longer, right? You’ll have to sell the bar. You can’t expect me to do the single parent thing.”

  Fuckin’ A. Not this again.

  Sharlo warned me several times that every minute I don’t end things with Avery is like a silent agreement to her delusional plans for a future I’ve never agreed to. Rather than reminding her we’d have to actually have sex to make babies, something she gave up long ago, I bite my tongue and rest my arm on the seat behind her. My aversion is more about her ultimatum than becoming a father. One day it’d be nice to have a family, although I don’t see it happening with Avery. Honestly the thought of having a kid with Avery makes my shirt feel too tight and the back of the car’s walls close in.

  “I don’t remember a conversation about having children,” I bite out, hoping to sound diplomatic enough to avoid a fight.

  “You can’t keep me all to yourself forever. We’d get sick of each other.” Giggling, she snuggles up against my side. It gets my dick’s attention even though my brain knows better. “Don’t worry, I’m not planning to have them right after we’re married. I figure we can wait a few years. Maybe even until I’m out of my twenties. You’ll have plenty of time to say goodbye to your precious bar before you become a serious business owner.”

  My teeth grind together as I look out the window, holding back the same thing I’ve told her a thousand times. The bar is fucking precious. It’s the only viable lifeline I hold to my childhood as Grams slips further into a world of lost memories. Once she’s gone, I’ll do anything to keep it going strong to honor her memory. Selling Leona’s is not an option, nor will it ever be. If Avery can’t see that, there’s no way in hell I’ll ever agree to marry her.

  “Nolan,” Avery says in a grave tone, pausing until I look back her way. “My parents think we should announce our engagement when I return from Milan.”

  “Jesus Christ.” The words fall from my mouth before I can filter them, soliciting a scowl from my fanatically religious girlfriend. She’s told me on several occasions that she loves me, but it was said in the same way she tells her girlfriends and parents over the phone, and I’ve never returned the sentiment. I’m not sure I ever could. Whatever the fuck this is between us, it sure as hell isn’t love.

  “We’ve talked about this. The timing isn’t right. I already have a lot going on with this upcoming deal—”

  “You’re becoming far more involved in this deal than necessary,” she snaps, her cheeks turning red. “Daddy told you he has it under control, Nolan. I don’t know why you think you have to become just as involved. If he’s going to become your father-in-law—”

  “That’s the thing, Avery. I don’t fucking know that we’re going to get married, but you keep assuming that’s where this is headed.”

  Her pale pink lips form a perfect ‘O’ as she leans back with a horrified expression. You’d think I fucking slapped her. I half expect her to tell the driver to pull over, but know she wouldn’t jeopardize missing her flight to Italy for anything.

  All at once her lips close and her expression levels out. “If you don’t se
e us getting married, why are you spending time with me? Are you using me because of Daddy? Or maybe I’m just another piece of ass to you?”

  A cold laugh bursts from my throat. “That’s a ridiculous assumption considering we never have sex!”

  “You know I’m busy with work!” she returns.

  “You’re not too busy to shut down every club in the city!”

  “I’m surprised you even notice what I’m doing, considering that fucking bar, your deal with Daddy, and James Kendall’s fighting career will always come first! Even when you’re with me, half the time you’re on the phone doing business!”

  Closing my eyes, I shut down the ball of anger in my chest before it spirals out of control. She obviously won’t ever understand what the bar means to me, and there’s no way we’ll ever come to a compromise. Things are all or nothing with Avery. I’m starting to understand better why she’s still single. I can’t imagine what kind of guy would voluntarily put up with her shit for a lifetime. It’s time to be fucking done with this bullshit.

  “You’ve made it clear that you can’t understand my dedication to the bar,” I say quietly, opening my eyes. “We need to stop and take a hard look at what that means. There isn’t a future with us. It’d be best if we both moved on.”

  I instantly feel as if the weight of the world has been lifted from my shoulders, even though her lips are quivering and she appears seconds from bursting into tears. As many times as I’ve unsuccessfully tried to break up with Avery, seeing Sofia again showed me what I could have, even if it had to be with someone else. It’s been difficult to find the time to date while trying to run my empire, but Avery isn’t the last single woman on the planet.

  For a moment, I think Avery is going to collapse into my arms. But then her shoulders straighten, and she sneers at me like she’s a feral animal ready to pounce. “If you leave me, I’ll make sure your deal with Daddy is off.”

  Now it’s my turn to reel back as if I’ve been sucker punched. The transaction with her father has nothing to do with our relationship, and she knows it. It’s simply a business-savvy way to invest my inheritance in something lucrative, as well as a monumental way to carry on Grams’s carefree spirit and love of music.

  But Avery’s a daddy’s girl and can get whatever she wants with a simple pout. Threatening to take my dream away from me is the lowest of blows—far more deviant than I expected her to be when it came down to this.

  “You’re delusional if you really think blackmailing me to stay with you is a good foundation to start a marriage,” I say, shaking my head. “Do you fucking hear yourself right now?”

  The car slows to a stop in front of the JFK terminal. Bending in close, Avery’s lips mold into a smile that’s sickeningly sweet as her eyes flicker back and forth between mine. “You and I make a good team, baby. Once you learn to accept that, we’ll be able to get past this nonsense and move forward with our wedding plans. Daddy will be so pleased when you’re ready to make the announcement.”

  Suddenly her hands are on my beard and her lips are assaulting me. Still too pissed to process her threat, I remain rigid. When she pulls away, she sucks my bottom lip between her teeth before releasing a wicked giggle. “Love you, baby.”

  She’s grabbed her coat and slipped out of the car before I can say anything more.

  What the actual fuck just happened?

  Knowing I’m late as hell, I scale two steps at a time up to James and Sharlo’s 19th century home on the East River. After the conversation with Avery, I had a hard time falling asleep, but passed out a mere hour before I was supposed to leave for Brooklyn Heights. Then traffic was a bitch in the city, giving me too much time to reflect on the ugly fight with Avery and her psychotic solution.

  “Hey, man, you look like shit,” James greets me from inside, chuckling.

  Jumping with the sound of his voice, I realize I was zoning out and wipe at my beard when I meet his amused smirk.

  The fact that Sofia’s brother takes up most of the door’s frame is partially my doing. His future as an MMA fighter was one of many investments outside of the bar, even though I wasn’t in it for the cut I’d later get from his first contract. Fighting has been my passion since the Corps, and James showed great promise from the beginning because of his history as a successful wrestler and boxer. When I first realized that he meant something monumental to Sharlo, I was ready to do whatever it took to ensure her happiness by giving him another reason to stay in the city. It was an added bonus that we became fast friends, providing me with much needed guy time.

  “Late night,” I mumble, trying to peer around him. “Is your sister upset that I’m late?”

  Taking a step back, James chuckles again. “If she is, she’ll let you know.”

  I step inside and knock my fist against his before he shuts the door behind me. The heavenly aroma of baked apples drifts within the open layout, soliciting an angry growl from my stomach. Sharlo has become a decent cook after taking lessons with a 5-star chef, and breakfast was the last thing on my mind when I threw on a pair of clean jeans and a button-down. I was so fucking out of it that I didn’t even remember to grab a coat. I merely took the time to brush my teeth before running out. When I realize I failed to glance in the mirror, I run both hands through my unruly hair, guessing it’s what triggered James’s comment about my appearance. Can’t really blame him when I constantly strive to look good any other time.

  “Charlie told me that he stopped by the gym last night to watch you spar,” I say, turning to James. “He said you’re on top of your game. Think you’re ready for The Pick?”

  James lifts his square chin with an air of confidence that’s downright enviable. There’s a lot of money on the upcoming fight against Dick “The Pick” D’Arggo, considering James is still relatively new to fighting, and Dick’s reputation as a champion proceeds him for countless reasons. James knows he’s going up against someone with a pretty solid record, and the way he’s been acting the last few months, it seems he welcomes the challenge. The son-of-a-bitch has brass balls the size of his home state.

  “As ready as I’ll ever be,” he answers, grinning. “We still on for Monday morning?”

  “Your training schedule is my top priority until the fight,” I assure him. “With Avery out of the country, there won’t be any change of plans.” Or any bullshit drama.

  “Bloody hell!” Sharlo sings, appearing in the kitchen doorway. Wearing a flowing dress with loose sleeves, her blonde hair intricately braided over her head, and a basket of baked goods held over her pregnant belly, I can’t help but think she looks like a full-blown hippie as she starts for me. “You do realize it’s proper to call a girl to let her know you’ll be late, yeah?” Standing on her tip-toes, she plants a kiss on my cheek. “You look as if you’ve literally been run down by a pack of wild mongrels.”

  I choke down a laugh as Sofia steps into the room. The sunlight spilling through the windows highlights her feminine features like something straight out of a wet dream. She’s made a complete transformation from the night before in tight jeans, tall boots, and a chunky white sweater. I’m unable to look away from her sweetheart-shaped face, highlighted by the silky blonde curls that fall down past her tits. Fuck me, she’s hot. Her eyes, made smoky by a tasteful application of makeup, freeze on my bicep where a hint of my Recon tattoo is visible.

  Then they flitter back up to meet my gaze. “You don’t appear to be in any condition to play tour guide,” she comments, her rose-colored lips quirking with an infuriatingly sexy smirk. “We should probably reschedule.”

  My jaw tightens. Being told what to do is not something I’ve taken lightly since I finished my tour with the Corps. I’m sure as hell not going to cave into the pressure of this beautiful woman.

  “I’ve worked fourteen hour shifts on less sleep. A few cups of coffee and I’ll be ready to rock,” I insist.

  Sharlo pushes the basket into my stomach. “Best take a few muffins for the road. Looks as if you�
��ll need all the fuel you can get.”

  As I’m scooping up two muffins in one hand, James gathers his tiny fiancée in his massive arms and kisses her neck. “Better be more left for me, little butterfly,” he grumbles, drawing his eyebrows down.

  “Don’t you worry, my love,” Sharlo purrs, pushing back against him. “I’ll always save more for you.”

  Sofia bursts forward and hooks her arm through mine, spinning us back toward the door. “With that incredibly perverted innuendo, we’re outta here,” she whispers to me.

  Whatever self-discipline I was relying on goes to shit with her touch. She smells fucking amazing—like the jasmine I remember—and her tit pushed against my arm has all kinds of perverted thoughts reeling through my head. I’m suddenly envisioning what she’d feel like beneath me. After retrieving her navy coat from a hook in the hallway, she pushes her arm through mine once more and calls over her shoulder, “I’ll give you a heads up when we’re on our way back from the city. Wouldn’t want to walk in on you two…again.”

  “We won’t wait up!” Sharlo calls back smartly right before Sofia slams the door shut behind us.

  Once we’re on the steps, Sofia drops my arm and blows out a long, noisy sigh. Her breath releases into the cold air in a little white puff. “Holy shit, those two are insatiable. If I ever became that nauseating, I would hope someone would put me out of my misery.”

  “They’re out-of-their-minds happy,” I point out with a quiet chuckle. “You don’t want that with someone?”

  “Depends. By ‘that’ do you mean a living being growing inside of me, or a partner who wants sex twenty-four seven? Because the answer to both is no. I don’t have time for any of that.”

  I grunt quietly. She almost sounds dangerously close to Avery—cold and uninterested in sex.