Bad Boy Rich

“Yes.” He grins, eyes beautifully lighting up with joy. “I’m sure we can make that happen.”

“Or cuddling a koala in Australia?”

“Yes, although I heard they are fierc

e and can claw your eyes out, but sure, we can.”

I take a step back, analyzing his body mannerisms to see if this was all a scam to get me back into his life. In the short time we had spent together, I had never expected this to happen. Fall in love with a man so wrong for me, and me so wrong for him, then create this family.

“You would do that? Give up everything to spend these next few months with my mom…Flynn included?”

Extending his hand, he reaches for my shirt and pulls me into his body. As soon as it touches his, that jolt—the sensation that happens every time his body touches mine—kickstarts my heartbeat and makes my stomach flutter all in that one moment. With a soft, tender scrape of his thumb against my bottom lip, he moves in closer and grazes his lips against mine, kissing me deeply as the whimpers of anticipation become trapped in our kiss.

My hands move towards the back of his head; clutching his hair as I had done so many times before but this time—I allowed myself to succumb to the moment, missing him terribly and questioning my need to escape him when it becomes so painfully obvious that he is the only man I’ve ever loved.

His lips are warm, and each time we pull apart, our breathing is shaky and shallow.

We both needed each other like the air we breathe. Without it, we had no chance of survival.

In the cool of the night, nestled between the tall dark trees and surrounded by no one besides each other, we kiss as if our lives depend on it. Both of us so desperate to regain the last nine months we had lost.

Wesley moans into my mouth, placing his hand on my shoulder then sliding them up and settling on my neck. Pulling away, slowly, he rests his forehead against mine, catching his breath.

“For once, I can say money does buy happiness. I would spend every cent I own to give your mom the final moments she deserved. As for Flynn, he’s like the brother I never had.”

Resisting the urge to kiss him, and control my ravenous breathing which becomes more difficult as each moment passes, I manage to whisper wanting reassurance, “You would do that?”

“I want it all. You, family, happiness, your mom with us…hell, buy a house next door to Phoebe’s.”

My laughter escapes. How does this man evoke so many emotions from me that no one else could ever do. He is crazy. Plain and simple.

“Wow, you must really love me if you’re willing to move next door to Phoebe.”

And just like that, his expression relaxes and the beautiful man that I had unravelled beneath all the masks, is standing before me and offering me a life that I had never imagined.

I didn’t care what people thought about Wesley, or us for that matter. All that mattered is what we thought. I love him; every inch of his screwed up soul. And just maybe—he had finally met his match.

I am every bit as screwed up as he is.

And that, oddly—made me content.

“Seeing you happy, makes me happy. Jesus, Milana. You have no idea how long I’ve waited for you. I knew it, that day in the café. Something about you, I just couldn’t forget. But everything I do from this moment will ride on one important thing, one important condition.”

Taking a step back, my breathing becomes rapid and shallow. My pulse is pounding in my temples, I have no idea what condition he will demand or if I’m even willing to sacrifice whatever it is to make him happy. I gaze into his eyes, willingly drawing myself in and experiencing the magic which arose everytime he looked back at me this way. Mischievious with a deadly grin. A man with an ulterior motive. In ways, this look—so deep and transcending—scared me and excited me at the same time.

Its’s Wesley Rich.

Mr. Bad Boy.

What could he possibly want from me that I hadn’t already given him?

And then, in the middle of these rusty woods, Wesley Rich gets down on one knee.

“Marry me.”

There’s a hum of excitement in the room; nerves amplified as the anticipation builds and the long-awaited video is played in the background.

My hand is drenched in sweat, gripping Milana’s while tapping against my knee beneath the table. The collar on my shirt is irritating me. I hadn’t worn a tuxedo in quite some time and only just realized how restricted this ridiculous getup made me feel. God, I even had to shave my beard to look semi-human.