Possessive Doctor
Page 58
“I’m happy you think that.”
“Look, you’re hot. I won’t pretend like you’re not. You’re really fucking hot. I’d love to marry you. But if you don’t want it, then fine, forget it.”
“Where does that leave things?” I ask him.
“Ah, shit. With my dad and your dad and the land?”
“Right. My dad still wants all this. And he’s still willing to pay.”
Michael stands up. “Come on.”
I frown then get up and follow him back inside. We walk over to where David and Brent are sitting. Michael stands in front of his father and clears his throat. Both men look up at him.
“Dad, I’m not going to marry Amber.”
His father frowns. “Well, now, son—”
“No, Dad. It’s not going to happen. Not ever.”
Brent smiles at me and I shrug.
“Son—”
“Dad. Sell the ranch. I know we need the money. We can make a killing off the sale, figure out something to do with all that money, something we both like. Maybe we can move somewhere else. I can invest it all. We can grow it.”
David lets out a long breath. “Are you sure? It’s not over.”
“It’s over, Dad. I don’t want this.”
He nods miserably and looks at Brent. “I’d do anything for my boy, you know?”
“I understand.”
He looks over at me. “I’m sorry to you, too. You got dragged through all this pretty hard. I had no clue your father would be so… tenacious.”
“That’s my father,” I say. “Very tenacious.”
“Listen, I’ll sell the ranch to you,” he says to Brent. “You pay me what you just offered, and you’ve got a deal.”
Brent nods once. “Consider it done then.”
They shake hands and Brent stands up.
“Send your lawyers over. We’ll make it all official and such,” David says.
“Thank you.”
“No, thank you. I’m about to be really rich.”
Michael laughs and grins at me. “Thanks, Amber. Sorry about all this.”
“It’s okay. It’s ending right.”
I walk to Brent and he takes my hand. We wave to them and leave the ranch. As we head back to the car, I lean against him.
“How much did you offer him?”
“Twenty million.”
I nearly choke. “That’s twice what my dad was offering.”
“I figured.”
“Can you really afford that?”
“Yes,” he says, laughing softly. “That was my first offer.”
“How… how high would you have gone?”
He just winks at me and helps me into the car.
We drive back to the airport. He’s on the phone the whole time with a local lawyer he knows, getting things straightened out. He’ll pay local people to deal with the transaction as fast as possible, and when it’s done, we’ll own every single square inch of land that my dad so desperately wants.
From there, we have leverage.
I look at Brent and I see the man I always should’ve been with.
It’s almost over.22BrentI hate to admit it, but I’m nervous.
Not because I’m worried about him. No, I’m not worried about him at all.
Amber’s dad is a fucking joke. He’s a pathetic asshole trying to be a big man. He’s a little piece of shit, and he’s not worth my time or energy.
But I’m still nervous. Because I’m afraid I might actually fucking kill him.
Amber looks white as a ghost as we stand out front on Lofthouse Manor’s front porch. I put an arm around her and pull her close. “It’ll be okay.”
“What if he refuses?”
“He won’t. This is what he wants. We give him this and we move on.”
“What if it’s not enough?”
“It’ll be enough.” I kiss her cheek gently.
Johnson clears his throat. He’s standing back near the door. “He’s on the way up,” he says.
“Thank you.”
He nods and heads back inside. He’ll be nearby in case we need him, but I doubt we will.
His partner Patricks, though, he’s gone. And buried somewhere, I bet. Not dead, but he’ll never work again. My parents will make sure of it.
An enormous black truck comes rumbling up the driveway. It parks, sending dust up all around it. The door opens then shuts.
“Nobody needs a truck that big unless they’re hauling lumber,” I grumble.
“My father’s never hauled a thing in his life.”
“Compensating for something then.”
She giggles nervously.
Her father comes around the truck. He’s wearing jeans, a western shirt, and cowboy boots. He looks like a fucking asshole.
“Daughter,” he says. “Kidnapper.”
“He didn’t kidnap me,” she snaps.
He grins at her and I put a hand on her arm.
“Thanks for coming here,” I say.
“Well, you said you got what’s mine, and I’m willing to listen. I’m not an unreasonable man.”
“Come inside.”
He follows us into the great hall. He whistles and looks around. “Now, this is fancy,” he says. “This is what I want. How’d you get all this?”
“Some of these things are priceless. They were gifts to my ancestors. Money isn’t everything, Mr. Gibbins.”
“Call me Samuel,” he mumbles, looking around.
I lead him into a side room. He sits on a couch and we sit opposite him. Johnson lingers in the doorway, sunglasses on.