Get You Back: Part Three: Redemption Page 11

  "Well, first of all, guess where I am? Not Thailand and not Morocco."

  "The seventh circle of hell?"

  Oooh, good one. I gave Rye a thumbs-up. Even Izzy was listening to the conversation while she chewed on a thumbnail as if it held the last bit of sustenance left in the world.

  "Very close. I'm at a hotel near your lawyer’s office in Chicago. As soon as you're able to prove your identity and claim your inheritance, then I'll tell you what I know about your father's death. I'm simply protecting my interests here."

  Bliss and her games. Good Lord Almighty.

  I grabbed the phone. "Bliss, if you know something about Ian's death, tell Rye. It's not right to extort him like that."

  "So lovely to hear your voice, darling."

  Rye leaned close to the phone, his cheek brushing mine. “Bliss, we have just two words for you.” He gestured for me to do the honors.

  “Fuck. Off,” I said. Nothing had ever felt so good.

  “But—“

  Rye took over. “We’ll find out what happened to Papa with or without you, Bliss. You’ve got nothing. Nothing. And if we hear from you again, expect lots of trouble claiming that million dollars.”

  “Rye … Lauren … listen …” The desperation in her voice told me everything I needed to know. She had no more cards to play. We’d won.

  Rye ended the call. We stared at each other. “Are you sure about this?” I whispered.

  He touched his forehead to mine. "Whatever she's up to, let her spin her wheels. She can play whatever games she wants, it doesn't matter."

  "But didn’t you come to DC looking for revenge for Ian’s death?"

  "Sweetheart." He tossed my phone onto the desk and took me in his arms. "I got something much better than revenge. I got you back." He gazed at me passionately.

  Annabelle squeaked, "If you guys are about to do something inappropriate, can you wait until after we clear out of here?"

  "You can't leave yet," I told her, ducking out of Rye's grasp. "We need witnesses. You and Izzy."

  Annabelle cast a dubious look at Izzy, who was plucking threads out of the edge of her sleeve. "Does it count if a witness probably won't remember a single minute of this?"

  "Yes," I said firmly. "Are we ready, Court?"

  "Ready when you are!" She held up her hand, palm facing us.

  But before we got any further, Annabelle's phone rang. I wanted to scream out of sheer frustration.

  "It's Elijah," Annabelle said, wide-eyed.

  We all waited as she answered.

  "He wants to talk to you, Rye." She tossed him the phone. He listened with a sober expression, then relayed the news to the rest of us.

  "It looks like Uncle Chris is gone. Elijah can't find any sign of him. The staff says he took off shortly after Izzy and I left. Elijah checked inside the lodge. It looks like he packed in a hurry."

  Izzy burst into a long, unnerving wail, like a wounded animal. "It's your fault! Now what am I going to do? You made him leave!"

  "Good," was Rye's unsympathetic answer.

  Izzy, still sobbing, threw herself on the floor and pounded on it with her fists.

  Rye rolled his eyes and went back to the call with Elijah. "We just got a call from Bliss." He filled his brother in on everything Bliss had said. Then he listened for a long moment. "Good idea," he said. "Keep me posted."

  He hung up. Annabelle joined us and the three of us stepped away so we could hear each other over Izzy's sobs. "Elijah's going to Chicago. He’s going to look into a few things." He scrubbed a hand through his hair. "I think Papa's death has been eating at him more than I knew."

  Annabelle nodded. "That's true. When he gets drunk, he talks about it, that we should find out what happened."

  "Is that safe?” I asked the two of them. “Especially with your Uncle Chris out there somewhere?”

  "Elijah's like a stealth fighter drone. He's quiet but he's sharp as hell. Bliss will have her hands full with him. Courtney?" Rye swiveled to the laptop, where Courtney was now frowning down at her keyboard.

  "I'm getting him on the next flight," she said irritably. "What am I, a fucking travel agent?"

  "No, you're our Internet angel," he teased. "Just keep an eye on him, would you?"

  "On it."

  Another wail rose from the floor, causing Annabelle to clap her hands over her ears. "Rye, let's get this done, and then I'll take her home. You and Lauren can have some lovebird time. I'll take my time on the way back."

  "Done," Rye said with a grin. He swiveled to me. "Let's get married, my love. I promise we'll have the wedding of your dreams later on."

  "As long as you're the groom, it is the wedding of my dreams." It was true. Rye was the only man I'd ever dreamed of marrying. But I'd never imagined it would actually happen.

  And yet it did.

  Courtney recited the required words, Rye and I signed on the dotted line. So did Annabelle and a very shaky Izzy, and that was that.

  We were married. In the attic of a B&B, under the gaze of his sister, a junkie going through withdrawal, a Skyped-in minister, and at least twenty wooden loons.

  Annabelle wrapped a blanket around Izzy, who had started shivering uncontrollably, and guided her out the door. Rye tossed her the keys to Izzy's Porsche.

  "Seriously. Don't wait up," she said with a wink as she palmed the keys. "I'll be bonding with my new German boyfriend."

  She and Izzy left, then Courtney signed off, and we were finally alone.

  We stepped into each other's arms. But instead of jumping on each other like monkeys, the gravity of what we'd just done sank in.

  "We have the rest of our lives to do this," Rye said with wonder in his voice. "Just be together."

  "It seems like a miracle, after everything that's happened." I rested my forehead on his chest. "I can hardly believe it."

  We soaked in the simple glorious joy of the moment. I breathed in his scent, that uniquely Rye aroma that did things to me on a visceral level. Arousing, naughty things as well as comforting things. Rye would always be there for me. Solid as a rock. Occasionally I might bump into his stubborn side, but he wouldn't ever hide or lie or run.

  "Hey, what do you say we get some air?" Rye's chest vibrated under my cheek. "Those wooden birds are starting to freak me out."

  I laughed. "Good idea. But just to warn you, there might be birds outside too."

  "That's fine. They're supposed to be outside. Free to fly wherever they want."

  As were we, I realized. I was free from Bliss. Rye was free from the past. We were both free to be together.

  Outside, we took in deep breaths of the fresh air and strolled hand in hand through the quaint little village with its picket fences and cheerful little Colonial-era church.

  We wandered like prisoners who had just been let out early for good behavior, or like Adam and Eve in the first flush of togetherness, when the world was still innocent. The entire town might as well have been Eden. At the edge of my mind danced an endless stretch of sparkling horizon—a future filled with love and joy.

  "I think this might count as a honeymoon," I pointed out after we'd roamed and talked and laughed for about an hour.

  He rubbed his thumb along the indentation at the base of my own, where it met my wrist—a particularly sensitive spot for me. I shivered, thinking of all the amazing things he could do with that thumb. "Honeymoon in Loon Lake? I don't know about that. I think we should go somewhere more adventurous."

  "Haven't we had enough adventure already? From the moment I saw you again, life has been one adventure after another. You came toward me in that ballroom and nothing has been the same since."

  "You ran from me."

  "Can you blame me? You looked like an avenging … biker or something."

  He chuckled. "Sorry about that. I had my head up my ass, but that's nothing new. It's a McAllister thing. Which reminds me, can I borrow your phone?" I handed it to him and he punched in a number. "There's one more thing I should do b
efore any more conniving family members drop from the sky."

  We had stopped next to a lovely little park with a white gazebo perched in the center. I watched a toddler chase a crow across the grass, both of them flapping arms and wings. A group of young girls played freeze tag, adopting grotesquely goofy poses. An elderly couple took a slow stroll across the emerald expanse of lawn. When Rye got the call connected, I listened with half an ear.

  "This is Rye Xavier McAllister, Ian McAllister's son. I'd like to initiate the process of taking charge of the McAllister trust. I understand I need to confirm my identity first? Okay, great. Yes, I do remember you, Neil. You took us out for ice cream while we waited for my father. We all shared the biggest hot fudge sundae I'd ever seen."

  He laughed, and they chatted a few minutes longer. When he hung up, he wore an odd look. At once younger—as if a weight had been lifted—and more mature. That restless look I associated with Rye was transformed into something more commanding, like a king stepping onto a throne. "That was the lawyer. We're all set. He remembers me. I still have to show up and sign, but as of this moment, I'm the provisional head of the trust and Uncle Chris is out."

  "That's great, Rye. Congratulations. Where do you think Christopher is?" I added nervously.

  "Hopefully far, far away. I ought to file charges, but first we'll see what Elijah finds out in Chicago."

  "I sure hope he's careful," I murmured, thinking of all the tricks Bliss had at her disposal.

  "Yeah. We'll see him soon. We have to fly there and present our marriage certificate so you can assume your role in the trust."

  I smiled nervously. "Does anyone offer billionaire training?"

  He laughed. "Don't worry so much. Start by thinking of all the great things you can do. What about that project you mentioned before? The refugee children you wanted to work with?"

  Total light bulb moment. "Oh my God. I could do that now."

  "You could. You could set up a private relief fund. You could help refugee children all over the world. You can do anything. I mean, I have to agree. Which I will, as long as you leave me enough money in the fund to keep making more money. Because I have a knack for that and it's crazy fun."

  I flung my arms around him. "I love you."

  "I love you too."

  We hugged, leaning into each other. Sparrows twittered in the trees arching overhead. A breath of warm wind carried the scent of cinnamon rolls from a nearby bakery. The world, when experienced from the circle of Rye's embrace, was a different place, safe and wonderful.

  "I'm suddenly wishing we hadn't come out here," Rye murmured. "There's a whole empty attic just sitting there, waiting for us. Why'd we walk away from that?"

  "Because we're a couple of loons."

  We both burst out laughing, then practically speed-walked in the direction of the B&B.

  A silver Porsche drove down the street. The driver gave a double take and jerked to a stop next to us. The side window lowered and a girl sang out a greeting. Izzy.

  "Hi, lovebirds! What's it like so far? To be married, I mean?"

  She must have gotten a fix of something. She looked like a different person, filled with energy and verve. Her eyes shone with fevered brightness. She'd changed into a shimmery turquoise bikini top and white shorts.

  "We're very happy," Rye said in a neutral tone. "How are you feeling?"

  "I'm feeling so much better. It was so so nice of Annabelle to take me home. We had such a nice talk and I so appreciated all the advice she had for me. Did you know that she has kind of a sixth sense of intuition about people? She's not like anyone else I've ever known."

  Oh Lord. This was definitely High Izzy. At any moment she might start stripping.

  "I'm surprised to see you out and about. Seemed like a nap might be a better idea." A scowl was gathering on Rye's face.

  "A nap?" She waved her hand. I noticed that one nail was still bloody from where she'd been chewing it in the attic. "Nah. Freddie and I are going for a boat ride on the lake."

  "Where's Annabelle? Did you drop her off at the B&B?"

  Izzy frowned, as if trying to focus. "Don't think so. She wasn't ready to go back yet."

  "Where'd you leave her then?"

  She licked her lips with such a perplexed expression, I almost laughed. But it wasn't so much funny as painful. "She got out of the car," Izzy eventually answered. "And I drove off. You can't expect me to know what happened after I drove off. Honestly, Rye, stop with that frowning. You don't have to be so mean all the time. I didn't do anything wrong."

  I tugged at Rye's hand. His muscles were stiff as steel cables. "Rye, leave her alone. You're just upsetting her."

  Slowly he relaxed. "Fine. If you see Annabelle, tell her to call me right away. I don't like the idea of her wandering around Loon Lake on foot."

  "Rye, look at this place. It's like a postcard for peace." I swept out an arm to indicate the idyllic vista of park and gazebo, clover-dotted lawns and old-fashioned lampposts. "Annabelle will be fine."

  "Just tell her to call," Rye repeated. "Good luck to you, Izzy. We'll be heading back to Houston soon. Take care of yourself. You deserve a happy life, but you won't get it the way you're going."

  Izzy pouted. "Annabelle said it much better than you."

  He grinned. "Listen to her then. Bye, Izzy." He gave her a little salute of a wave and I followed suit with a smile. To be honest, I'd be glad to see the last of the girl who Rye had nearly been forced to marry. But mostly, I felt sorry for her.

  He took my hand again and we began to move down the sidewalk.

  Izzy called after us. "Wait! I almost forgot. You have to take this."

  She leaned across the seat and tossed an object out the window. Rye caught it.

  It was a cell phone in a cobalt-blue leather case with a Palomino horse on the back.

  "Why did Annabelle give you her phone?" Rye asked.

  "Oh, she didn't. I found it outside the restroom at the little gas station where I filled up. I recognized the pretty horse. Anyway, bye, you guys! It's been a wild and crazy time! Let's not do it again anytime soon." She pulled away from the curb and zipped off down the village street.

  Rye frowned at the phone. "Does this seem odd to you? Should we be worried?"

  "Anyone can lose their phone. Annabelle said she loses hers all the time, that's why she got that case. It's easy to spot."

  "Yeah, even Izzy couldn't miss it." He shook his head and shoved the blue phone in the back pocket of his trousers. "I really hope that girl gets some help."

  Privately, I thought she'd probably get arrested before she got help, the way she was going. "May the angels watch over her."

  "Amen."

  We were quiet for a moment. Up ahead, I spotted the wooden sign that swung from a bracket above the front door of the Loon Lake B&B. A black loon, its beak upraised in a silent, cryptic call.

  I was suddenly so eager to be alone with my lover—my husband—that I couldn't stand it. "Race you back."

  "You're on."

  Laughing, we launched ourselves down the street toward whatever would come next.

  Also by Juniper Bell

  Get You Back ~ Part One: Revenge

  Get You Back ~ Part Two: Reunion

  Wild Nights of Alaska Series

  Go Wild ~ Book 1

  Go Deep ~ Book 2

  The Receptionist Series

  Training the Receptionist

  Restraining the Receptionist

  Unleashing the Receptionist

  Doll

  Beautiful Obsession

  The Extremist

  Regency Erotic Romance

  My Three Lords

  My Three Masters

  About the Author

  Juniper Bell is a multi-published, bestselling author of erotic romance. She lives with her husband and stepdaughters in a cabin in Alaska. She wound up in the frozen north after leaving her career as a stressed-out Los Angeles TV writer. Luckily, her love for writing survived the move. When
she’s not writing, she’s shoveling snow and dreaming about the day she moves to Hawaii.

  Juniper Bell is the pen name of Jennifer Bernard, USA Today bestselling author of contemporary romance. To be notified of new Juniper Bell releases, sign up here. For news and updates about all JB books (Jennifer and Juniper), please join Jennifer’s mailing list.

  You can find Jennifer/Juniper online at

  @Jen_Bernard

  JenniferBernardBooks

  JuniperBell.com

  JuniperBell.author@gmail.com