Claiming Cinderella - Page 3

There was no sense in complaining about anything that had happened to Nola. She’d take her daughter’s sides in any matter I put before her.

As I headed down the stairs to the second story landing, the sound of music filled the air, a familiar sound, but not a familiar song. I crept down to the open door and peeked inside the music room where Scott Blue, a rock legend, played his guitar. He was so handsome for an older man, and there was something so familiar about him. It wasn’t just that I’d known him most of my life since his wife and my mother were best friends, but it was like when he looked at me, something in his soul recognized mine. It was like a kindred spirit of sorts, but maybe it was because I’d grown up listening to his music, to his voice, and the poetic lyrics that the world knew and loved.

He kept his head down, his shoulder length, brown hair tucked back in a ponytail, which looked very similar to the twins’ in color, as he strummed his guitar. I left him undisturbed but ran into his mother on the way down the hall.

“I don’t care how old we get. I will always love to hear him play his guitar.” Mama Blue, or Millie as I called her, had a faraway look in her eyes as she listened to her son play.

“I’ve listened to him my entire life, too. I suppose that’s something we have in common.”

She laughed. “I’ve got that in common with millions, but no one gets to hear the imperfections, the rough notes, or when he tunes his guitar. Those times are special to me. No matter how famous, no matter what an icon or idol, he’s my baby boy.” She released a breath and turned her head to meet my eyes. “What’s troubling you? Don’t you like it here?”

“I’m not exactly a guest, I’m practically staff and please don’t take it the wrong way, but my job is a bit testy at the moment.” I had to watch what I said about her granddaughters.

She chuffed a laugh. “Between me and you,” she leaned in closer. “Don’t let those little bitches get to you. They’re spoiled rotten and are more like their mother than my son.” She stood upright and then nodded in my direction. “I knew your mother. She was a good woman, and you remind me so much of her.”

About that time, Scott Blue tuned his guitar, and the old woman smiled and continued down the hall.

She was possibly the only person in the house that understood me.

Chapter 2

Aiden

Hearing my mother’s ringtone was like hearing an alarm, and nothing could wake me from a dead sleep quicker unless it was her own voice. I rolled over to answer, seeing that I wasn’t alone, still. I’d hoped that by the time I woke up, Zep would have gotten rid of the young ladies we’d picked up at the club the night before.

I nudged her as I rolled over as I sat up with the phone in hand, but my mother had already hung up. By the time I went to call her back, a text buzzed through the device and three words appeared on my screen that sent me into motion. On my Way.

Fuck.

I got to my feet and hurried down the hall to Zep’s room, hoping my live-in best friend and soul brother would act fast.

I threw open his door and walked in before I noticed the look on his face or the redhead who was leaned back and riding his cock. She covered her breasts but continued to work him as I stopped in my tracks unfazed.

“She’s on her way!” Those words sent Zep into motion and growled out as he lifted her up.

“The party is over, princess. It’s time to leave.”

“But you didn’t even come.” She pouted and dragged ass to the hall where her friend had come to see what all the commotion was about and Zep dressed as he ran down the hall beside me like two soldiers preparing for inspection.

The girls headed for the door, and the redhead turned and called across the room, “Call me.” I shook my head and hurried them out the door, but it was no use, they passed right by my mother on the way down the path of my house.

“I’m going to make the two of you move back into the main house if this kind of behavior continues. You’re not a child anymore, Aiden.” She glanced over to Zep who was still buttoning his shirt. I’d been smart enough to grab a tee, but it was wrinkled, and I wasn’t sure I hadn’t used it to wipe up my come the night before. I checked it for spots and realized that my sexy waitress was probably wearing the stain. You’re welcome.

Tags: Amy Brent Billionaire Romance
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