CHERISH (The Billionaire's Rules, Book 12) (5 page)

BOOK: CHERISH (The Billionaire's Rules, Book 12)
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Cullen looked at her and his eyes shown
with unshed tears.
 
“I don’t want to
ever hurt our baby,” he said softly.

“Our baby is going to have hard times and
struggles just like any other person has.
 
We can’t stop that from happening.
 
All we can do is love him.
 
Or her.”

Cullen nodded again.
 
“I love him or her already,” he
whispered.

Ivy threw her arms around him.
 
“You’re everything to me, Cullen
Sharpe.”

 

***

 

Later that night, as she lay in Cullen’s
arms, warm and protected, she kissed his chest and once again told him how
happy she was.

And it was true.

She couldn’t believe the joy that she was
capable of—the completely unrestrained waves of happiness just continued
to wash over her.

But Cullen only sighed.
 
“I’m happy too,” he said.
 

“But?” she asked, knowing there was
always a ‘but’ with Cullen.
 
And she
loved him all the more for it.

“But my father’s in prison and likely
will be there for some time.
 
And
I’m a head case—controlling, driven, with trust issues and a million
other issues I can’t even begin to describe.”

“We all have issues.”

“It’s as if I can’t allow myself to be
happy when I know that my father’s suffering,” he said.
 
“I mean, how can I be happy?
 
Should I be?”

“Yes,” Ivy responded right away.
 
“Yes, you should.”

“Why?”

“Because,” she told him, “life’s too
short and too hard.
 
We have to take
every bit of happiness that’s given to us and hang onto it for everything it’s
worth.
 
We can still be happy
together, and in love, and excited about our baby.
 
Even if there are other problems.”

“But my father—“

“There’s always going to be something,
Cullen.”
 
She stroked his
chest.
 
“There’s always going to be
something wrong somewhere.
 
And we
have to be able to hold onto each other and be happy—as happy as we can
be—and not feel guilty about it.”

“It’s true,” Cullen sighed deeply.
 
“Dad made his decision a long time ago,
and I suppose now he’s living with the consequences of it all.”

Ivy kissed his chest again and
again.
 
“We’ll do our best to be
there for him, but it’s not your responsibility to fix it.”

“God, what did I do right to deserve
you?” Cullen said, lifting his head to look at her.

“I don’t know,” she said, grinning.
 
“Maybe you just made the right
decision.”

And then Ivy drifted off to sleep,
knowing that she and Cullen and the growing life inside of her were going to be
okay.
 

They were a family now.

 

***

 

THREE MONTHS LATER

 

LANIE

 

Lanie Day was supposed to be grateful.
 
After all, it wasn’t everyday that she
got to move into a new apartment and start fresh.

As she stood in the doorway of the
apartment, she tried to find a smile that conveyed the proper emotions.

In the background, a couple of movers
were carrying her couch into the small living room of the apartment.
 

The movers had been hired by Ivy’s rich
husband
.
  

“So this is it,” Ivy said to her, waving
her arms like a magician’s assistant.
 
“What do you think?”

Lanie found the smile she’d been
searching for.
 
“It’s really
nice.
 
I can’t thank you enough.
 
You’re the best cousin.”

“I’m your only cousin,” Ivy said, turning
to her rich, gorgeous husband Cullen.
 
Cullen was reserved and cool, but Lanie couldn’t help but stare at the
man.
 

I
suppose it was nothing to you
,
Lanie thought,
with your billionaire
husband and your fancy, amazing dream life.

Why
would you care about subletting me your teeny tiny apartment when you’ll be
going home to a mansion?
 
And you
might as well hire some movers, rather than risk your husband getting dirt
under his fingernails.

“I so appreciate it,” Lanie told Ivy,
once more struggling to sound believable.

The truth was, she did appreciate
it.
 
But somehow, the two of them
had always been at odds when they should have been like sisters.

Both of them had been only children,
both had been raised by their mothers
.

The difference was, where Lanie’s mother
had basically left Lanie to fend for herself, Ivy had been coddled from day
one.

It hadn’t escaped Lanie’s notice that her
cousin seemed to catch all the breaks, while she struggled to get anywhere at
all.

And this was the deepest cut yet, in a
life full of bruises and scratches.
 
Seeing Ivy get everything that Lanie had ever wanted.

Her gaze moved from Ivy’s gorgeous
husband to Ivy’s rounded baby bump.
 

She’s
got everything.
 
Handsome,
successful, husband—check.
 
Rich, fairytale life—check.
 
Baby on the way—check.

“This is the last box,” a mover said,
squeezing past Lanie and then walking into the kitchen with it.
 

“That was quick,” Cullen said.

Lanie shrugged.
 
“That’s what happens when you hardly
have any stuff.”

“Well, you just graduated,”
Ivy
said.
 
“You’re not supposed to have stuff yet.”

It
didn’t take you long to get all the stuff you ever wanted
, Lanie thought, and then immediately
felt bad for having such critical thoughts about someone who was helping her.

“I guess you’re right about that,” Lanie
said, shrugging.

Ivy didn’t even seem to notice Lanie’s
discomfort.
 
Her husband came over
and kissed her forehead tenderly.
 
“We need to get you home,” he said.
 
“You’ve been up since early this morning.”

Ivy touched his arm and smiled up at him.

The way they looked at each other struck
Lanie to the core.
 

Why
hasn’t anyone ever looked at me like that?

She wanted to be happy for Ivy, but
instead all she was able to feel was a searing jealousy that threatened to
overwhelm her.

“I should let you both go,” Lanie
said.
 
“You’ve already done more
than enough for me.
 
This is…this
is…I can’t ever thank you enough.”
 

“Nonsense,” Cullen told her.
 
“You’re family.”

“That’s right,” Ivy said, smiling.

God,
she’s literally glowing
,
Lanie thought.
 
Just like they say pregnant women are supposed to.

“Anyway,” Lanie said.
 
“I should get unpacking and I also have
some job hunting to do if I’m ever going to afford this place.”

“Oh, about that,” Cullen said, stepping
forward and producing a piece of paper that was folded in half.

Lanie hesitantly took the piece of
paper.
 
“What’s this?” she asked,
opening it.
 
There was a name and
number on the paper that she didn’t recognize.

“I’ve told him to be expecting your
call,” Cullen said.

“It’s a friend of Cullen’s,” Ivy said.

“Acquaintance,” Cullen said.
 
“He owes me one.”

Lanie’s brow scrunched as she studied the
paper.
 
“I don’t get it.
 
Is this about a job?”

“You’re a quick study,” Cullen told
her.
 
“That’s good.”

“Now you settle in and call me if you
need anything.”
 
Ivy dangled the
keys in front of Lanie, and Lanie took them from her.

“I feel like a charity case,” Lanie
mumbled.

“Don’t be silly.
 
You’re helping me,” she said.
 
“I needed to sublet this place.”

“As if you couldn’t have found someone
else in a heartbeat.”

“I’m glad I could rent it to family.
 
And who knows?
 
Maybe it’s a lucky apartment or
something.
 
I know it worked out for
me, living here.”
 
She grinned.

Lanie took a deep breath, nodded and then
gave her cousin a quick hug.
 
“Thanks again,” she whispered.

“Anytime,” Ivy told her.

And then before Lanie knew it, everyone
was trooping out of the apartment.

Cullen and Ivy disappeared down the
steps, Cullen walking beside his wife and supporting her as she walked down.
 
He was so gallant, so protective and caring.

Seeing two people so in love struck at
Lanie’s heart.

She’d never had someone look at her with
anything resembling that kind of devotion—and doubted she ever would.

It’s
just not in the cards for me.
 
But
at least I have a cute little apartment.

She tossed the keys onto the counter as
she went in the kitchen and got herself a cup of water.

And
don’t forget the name and number of Cullen Sharpe’s mysterious “acquaintance.”

Lanie stared at the name and number on
the piece of paper Cullen Sharpe had given her.
 
She had no idea what job opening she
would tell this person she was calling about.

She pulled out her phone and went on the
browser, searching for the name ‘Brayden Forman.’

Lanie was shocked when the name returned
about 2 million hits, and a series of images that showed a mouthwatering hunk
with a devil-may-care grin and wicked green eyes.

Clicking on one of the first articles
that popped up in search, she read about the man whose name and phone number
were on the piece of paper she held.

Brayden Forman had graduated from So Cal
Business School just two years ago, but he was already worth millions of
dollars, having co-founded Hookup, the dating app known for encouraging
one-night-stands and anonymous sexual encounters.

Lanie made a face as she read about the
reputation of Brayden’s company.
 
She’d of course heard of Hookup—anyone with a pulse had heard the
name.
 
But she’d never considered
using the app, and just the thought of it left a bad taste in her mouth.

As far as she knew, it was all based
around rating people on their physical appearance—their “hot or not”
factor—and then finding out who might be in close proximity for a
“hookup.”

Yuck.

The whole premise of the app was the
opposite of everything Lanie believed in.
 
She had no interest in a guy who just wanted to get a quick screw and
then forget he ever knew her name.

But there was no denying that Brayden
Forman was hot, sexy and apparently brilliant.
 

Still, it seemed that hotness and
brilliance didn’t mean you were of upstanding character, because Brayden was
also constantly rumored to be shagging one model or another, living a playboy
lifestyle that fit his brand to a T.

Lanie sighed.

She closed the browser window on her
phone and decided to unpack and worry about the phone call later.

 

***

 

A few hours later, she was wiping sweat
from her brow and having yet another glass of water.

The apartment was hot, or maybe it was
just the exertion of opening boxes, unpacking, and continuing to move various
pieces of furniture around all by herself.

But she’d gotten through a good chunk of
it now.

Her gaze strayed back to the piece of
paper on the counter, half folded, with Brayden Forman’s phone number on
it.
 
She put the cool glass to her
cheek and stared.

Just
do it.
 
Don’t think too much.
 
You need a job.
 
It’s either this or hitting the bricks
to get something at a sandwich shop, a temp agency,
a
nearby supermarket.

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