Read Southern Charmed Billionaire Online

Authors: Kristin Frasier,Bella Bentley

Southern Charmed Billionaire (20 page)

BOOK: Southern Charmed Billionaire
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I kissed him lightly, only to feel surprise when he didn’t pull away from me, but returned his kiss as passionate, intense and direct as the night of the sexy party when our tongues danced with each other.
 

The sound of horse hooves trotting against the ground and the gently wooden crackle of the carriage with the peaceful brave bird out in freezing temperature decorated our backdrop as he pulled away from me with a smile on his face.
 

“You’re doing excellent.” His face held a very pleased look.
 

“Can’t he hear?” I nodded my chin up towards the horse driver. I didn’t want our ploy unearthed by eavesdroppers, and after last night, well, I didn’t want to risk losing this gig. Especially since we were so close to sleeping together!
 

“Strict orders and protocol forbid him to eavesdrop. He’s been with the family for ages. Don’t worry, he has music on his headset.”
 

I let out a relieved sigh and finally felt a few pounds lift off my shoulders.
 

His hand caressed my knee. Every part of me froze, wanting more. Begging for
more. My soul was so hot and ready, you could have sworn I was teenager just discovering sexuality. But he did that to me. He made me all hot, bothered, eager, and ready to throw caution to a wind and just scream, “Fuck me hard, right now - behind this barn over here.”
 

“I dreamt about you last night, you know?” He admitted huskily, sexily, as if he himself were trying to layer on the flirtatious banter. Wh…what did he just say?
 

“Did you?”
 

“I did. But I’m not going to tell you what naughty things you were doing. And oh, you were
so
naughty.” He teased with the growl in his voice.
 

His dirty talk made me blush.
 

“Seriously, you’re doing excellent. As soon as we are a few feet away, I’ll pop some bubbly for you in cheers.” He winked. “That way they won’t see.”
 

“So scandalous. Speaking of scandal and naughty ways, Atticus, I’m a bit, well, shy about what happened last night.” I felt open enough to share that with him.
 

“Why? I made you feel good? Nothing to be shy about there.” He replied matter-of-factly, as if he were saying, “I gave you a backrub, no big deal!”
 

It suddenly occurred to me that I had no idea of his sexual ethics and beliefs. I wondered what his view on sexuality was; after all, we fucked in a place that seemed like some sort of sex party. Maybe it was better not to know and just look at it like he said: a gift?
 

Minutes later when we were out of sight of any spies or eavesdroppers, he popped open some champagne and filled our glasses just as he had promised.
 

I gladly took the drink. Fresh champagne bubbles tickled my cold nose, but I liked it.
 

Atticus used this moment to open up some conversation. “So, tell me something about that I don’t know. How’d you get into baking and stuff?”
 

“Well…”
 

“Well, what?”
 

“Do you really want to know?”
 

“I do. I asked right.”
 

“Well, it’s not exactly the prettiest of stories.”
 

“I doubt there’s any other kind coming out of your lips.”
 

He really had a way with flattery! Ignoring his charm, I inhaled a breath of confidence. “Cooking and baking was the one thing I could control in life. At least while my dad was passed out drunk, and well, my mother…” I paused, briefly, willing the rest of my courage out. “She was gone. She’s been dead for quite some time.”
 

“I’m sorry to hear that.” His tone was genuine, which I appreciated. I would have cringed if this brought about awkward silence, or a tone of piteous empathy.
 

“Thank you,” I swallowed another sip and continued. “I would have the small kitchen to myself for a moment of quiet, a moment where I could control the environment, even if it was just for a moment. I started experimenting in 3rd grade and learned on my own since my father was always drunk by the time I got home.”
 

“That's young. And quite irresponsible. I’m sorry you had to be subjected to that.” I sucked in a deep breath of confidence. For some reason, I felt like I could trust him, that I could tell him… maybe everything.
 

“Yeah, I know. I was like eight. Ever watch
Kid Iron Chef
on the Food Network? Kids are pretty talented in the kitchen! Anyway, when I was playing with my cousin, my aunt saw my burn on my arm.” I turned my arm over to show the raised burn scar on my forearm.
 

“Wow. That’s a scar.”
 

“I usually have it covered with makeup like last night and then of course the other night. But I didn’t today. Anyway, that's when she realized my home wasn't a safe environment and they took custody of me and...” I took a deep breath again, tempering myself to avoid shedding a tear or making this an emotional experience.
 

 “I’m sorry to hear that, Kate. That really is something you’ve been through. But, I’m glad to hear you had other family you could count on.” He wrapped his arm around, pulling me in.
 

I couldn’t help spilling my guts. “But the truth is, I always felt like the stepchild. Blood is blood, sure. But children you carry in your own womb, I guess it can be different. And well, we lived in Brooklyn. My aunt and uncle both worked to support my three cousins and then included me, an extra mouth to feed. That’s how I saw myself for quite some time: an extra mouth to feed. Since the moment when I could even begin to
work, I started cleaning houses. I got a scholarship, a few grants, and took out loans to go to college. Went to business school, started a business, then Claire hired me as her tour manager because I get shit done.”
 

His finger pressed firmly on my lips.
 

"A lady never curses."
 

"Who said I'm a lady?" My retort rolled out sassily.
 

I wanted to curse again just so he would touch my lips. God I ached for him so badly, the way we made love at that club.
 

“So what type of business was it?”
 

Feeling shy about actually admitting, food truck, I waited. But the liquid courage and my partially empty stomach provided just the fuel.
 

“It was a taco food truck. Now before you even object or protest, have you ever tasted barbacoa?”
 

“Not really.”
 

“Then you’ve never really lived. I have to make it for you. Well, I mean, make it for…”
What did I mean?
 

“I would love for you to make me barbacoa.”
 

“Well, anyway, as I was saying, I was in love with a man who would later greatly betray me. I would be used again by another man.”
 

Shit. I didn’t want to get into what my father did to land him in jail. So, I made a mental note to not even vaguely mention it.
 

“We were business partners. We had the best taco truck on the corner. And that’s a lot to say for Brooklyn. My boyfriend whom I loved turned out to be a con artist. I checked my bank account one day and I was rid of every single penny while he left scot-free while I was left with the remaining debt, which I currently have.”
 

“Wow.”
 

On top of other debts. Debts from my father stealing my identity.
 

“Yeah, so cupcakes. It’s a fresh start for me. Something completely opposite for me. I don’t have a bad taste in my mouth with this venture. It’s sweet. I keep saying that I’m leaving the bitter north for the sweet south and I hope it stays that way. Ending that cold chapter, to a sweeter life in the south I thought I’d caught my luck with Claire, but
then her band broke apart. After that, I was kicked out of the only place I knew.” I spoke softly, casually.  “And then you came along. You provided an avenue for me to
dream
again, and now - well now I
don’t know
how to handle this.”
 

“I hate lying,” I confessed, looking him in briefly in the eye. “I don’t know why it will make your grandfather feel better knowing I’m pregnant with a baby before he leaves. I mean-”
 

He interrupted. “Trust me it will make him thrilled.”
 

“Well, so, what about Clarissa? I mean, you two seem pretty chummy.” I cringed when I asked, but I had to know. Memories of the way he froze up during her appearance last night bugged me.
 

“That’s old news.” He was quiet for a moment, and there was silence as we felt the cold wind and light snow tickle our faces. I waited, pensively, for the next thing he would say. “We have a history together. One that she cannot let go of. I don’t know if you can tell, but she and my sister are two peas in a pod; twins from another mother.”
 

“I did notice that.”
 

“Well, if we’re being honest here. She was my last… girlfriend.”
 

“Wow, so, this was recent?”
 

The backdrop of peace and tranquility was the most soothing thing you could experience during this confession. It easily filled our silence as the horses easily trotted through the snow providing a happy peace.
 

He sucked in a deep breath and drank more of his champagne, gazing at the landscape in deep thought. I didn’t want to prod. I knew how sensitive these things could be. He could take all the time in the world. But I still wanted an answer. Finally, he spoke.
 

“It wasn’t very recent, no.”
 

“Oh?”
 

“Clarissa and I—we fell in love at a young age, when love consisted of heightened feelings, obsession, and uncharted territory. She was there for me when my parents died.”
 

“Your parents…I mean I know they’re not here, but....”
 

“You didn’t know?”
 

“No. I mean, I just never wanted to ask.”
 

“Their plane went down. My youngest brother died alongside my parents. Aside from my grandfather, I’m the only male heir of the Branch family. Why do you think I’m so keen on wanting my space from all the drama, catfights, and heightened emotion from females?” His upper lip curled in slight amusement.
 

I laughed. I got it. I was afraid of all that myself.
 

“Anyway, Clarissa,” he continued. “She was there for me. And as you can see, we grew up in the same social circles. Our moms were best friends. Of course they put the ideas in our heads since we were practically toddlers that we were each other’s arranged marriage partners. We have buckets of pictures growing up together.”
 

I felt a pang of jealously, or perhaps, internal longing for that own type of childhood memory and recognition.
 

 “She made me feel better in a lot of ways. And then, well, it’s really hard to talk about… But I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but, my grandfather is a very devout Christian, and this is the south. It’s synonymous with Bible belt, though.
Everyone
knows
everything,
and when you’re running for Governor like Clarissa’s dad was, well, everything was magnified in the press. Your behavior, and your family’s behavior, literally determines votes. If you can’t keep your own family in check, how can you run a conservative state? You know? Well, we…made a baby. Got pregnant. And then…well, we weren’t anymore.”
 

The silence was thick. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. It was a confession I didn’t expect at all. And though this conversation had matured very fast, I was thankful for his trust in me to confide that secret. Now it somewhat made sense as to why Clarissa’s dirty looks were so frequent.
 

“I’m really sorry.”
 

“It’s a bond that will bind us together for the rest of our lives.”  He exhaled slowly again and I could sense he was in pain. “We created something together, and I’ve never done that before with anyone, created another life.”
 

“I’m really… wow, that’s a lot to deal with and so young.”
 

“Well, she thought she was making the best decision for our families. I really didn’t have a say in the matter. She did it without me. The sucky thing was, even though I
was so young, I felt excited, ready,” he revealed, with some animation coming to his voice. “Like life suddenly seemed deeper and filled with purpose beyond me. Looking back now, it just added more sorrow to my heart. So with dealing with the loss of my family, I dealt with the loss of my own child and I didn’t even have a say in the matter. It pushed us a part. I retreated. She got all theatrical. She and my sister have that going for them, the drama queen thing. Both are spoiled rotten, let me tell you. There’s no way we would have lasted.”
 

“Are you sure about that? I mean, she seems like every man’s dream.”
 

“I get it you know, as a woman seeing what you see from your perspective. But all that stuff is exterior coverings; with all the pretension in this social circle and the inner scene, you grow up looking at the inside. You get tired of what you see pretty quickly; from the inside all things all look the same.”
 

“You surprise me, you know.”
 

“Why’s that?”
 

“It just seems very mature I guess. Deep.”
 

“Well, regardless of how I may appear, I have my own oceans inside.”
 

“So that’s why you needed me?”
 

“I don’t date. I don’t.”
 

BOOK: Southern Charmed Billionaire
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