Bought and Paid For (Hot-Bites 1)

I hadn’t realized just how much I’d grow to care for the brutal CEO.

I saw my father enter the restaurant, and instantly felt guilty. He looked like he’d aged a decade in this short time. He was in front of me and helping me out of the seat before I had time to do that myself. He embraced me, his body seeming so frail.

“You’re okay,” he said softly.

“Of course,” I responded. He pulled me back and eyed me, looking me over as if he expected to see battle wounds covering me.

“You’re … glowing,” he said, his brows furrowing, this look of almost disbelief crossing his face.

“I feel great, Dad,” I answered, not about to sneak around. It was one of the reasons I’d wanted to have dinner tonight. It wasn’t just about seeing him and making sure he was okay, but because I was going to tell him I was staying with Jackson.

I loved my father. He was a good man, just had bad habits. It was those said habits that had gotten me into this situation, that had gotten him into the position he was in as well. But in this short time something in me had changed. I felt more alive, freer than I ever had before. I didn’t want that to go, not ever.

Once we were seated across from each other I took a stuttering breath. I didn’t want to prolong this, and by the expression on my father’s face I knew he suspected something was up.

“I have a feeling this dinner wasn’t about you telling me you wanted to come back home.”

I shook my head. “No, because I don’t want to. I’m happy with Jackson. He makes me feel alive.” I was surprised the words came out like they had, so truthfully, instant, genuine. He didn’t answer me for long seconds, but did glance down and finally shake his head.

“I guess I don’t understand this.” He looked up at me once more. “How can you stand to be with a man who used you as collateral, who wanted you because of my mistake?”

This wasn’t what I wanted to do, wasn’t how I wanted this to go. I didn’t want to argue about this or what I wanted. I’d asked him here to tell him the truth. “I can’t really explain it, and even if I could I don’t think I could properly make you understand.” I started picking at my napkin, feeling nervous, afraid he’d make this huge scene. “I’m an adult, and don’t expect you to accept any of this right away, if at all…”

“You’re happy? He treats you well?”

I stared into my father’s eyes, feeling happier than I ever had before. “I am,” I said and smiled. “I love him.”

And just like that I saw the genuine acceptance on my father’s face. He’d worried about me, and wondered if my life would be the same, no doubt. But the truth was I hadn’t known what living was until spending time with Jackson.

I hadn’t known what truly being happy was until I broke through the mold that held me down for so long. Being with Jackson was swift, frightening at first, but it had been real, true. I loved him, and it was time I let myself be happy.

It was time that I thought about myself.

Epilogue One

Jackson

Two years later

“Did they finally fall asleep?” Megan asked me from the bed. I stood there for a moment and drank the vision in. Next week Megan and I would have been married for two years. In that time, I had only fallen more and more under my wife’s spell. All those years ago when I saw her standing at that party I thought she was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. Now, over five years later since the first time I laid eyes on her, I couldn’t believe the beauty I held in my hands.

She lay in our bed, her blonde hair spilled against the crisp white sheets, the blanket pulled up to her breasts. Somehow even after two years of marriage and three kids, she still looked innocent.

“Tabitha has been out for hours, but our boys fought it until they couldn’t anymore,” I confirmed. Tabitha was our oldest child. We found out Megan was pregnant a couple of months after coming back from Greece, and to celebrate we flew back and got married on the same beach we’d created our daughter on.

Megan got out of bed and walked to me, and just like always took my breath. She wore a white silk gown that clung to her curves. You would have never guessed that this woman gave birth to twin boys just two months ago.

When she stopped in front of me, I slid my hand along her hip and let my gaze take all of her in. I knew that she’d chosen the color for me, because that is how I saw her—how I have always seen her. Megan was pure and untouched from the harshness of my life and my business. She was mine to care for, to protect, and to provide for. Mine to love.