I’m circling it all in my head like you’d replay a shocking moment or a favorite one, remembering our times even while fully aware that there is no changing what is now, no changing those past moments, aware that I only have choices in my future ones, and perhaps that is not even possible at all, when I get a call from Cole.
“Hey. Just wanted to call and say I’m sorry.”
I don’t know how to reply. I’m surprised that he’s calling me considering he has more important things to talk about with his brother.
“I planned to come through,” he continues.
“Why are you apologizing to me?” I ask, completely baffled.
“Because no one should be without the woman he loves.”
“You love Miranda,” I say when it dawns on me.
“I meant my brother.”
“Oh.”
“You do love him too. Don’t you?”
“Is he all right?” I clutch the receiver tighter and hold my breath while I wait for his answer.
“Ha. Better than ever. He said I did him a favor. I should be a good dad like he was to me.”
“So it’s yours?”
“I suspect it is. But we’ll make sure. Even then…” he trails off.
“What?”
“Nothing.” He repeats, “You do love my brother, don’t you?”
“Always,” I croak.
“Good. I hope you two spend the rest of your lives proving it to each other.”
He hangs up, leaving me buzzing in hope over his words as Sara texts.
Are you okay? You left and everyone was gone but Christos—he said he was staying until all the guests were gone. Becka and I offered to help.
Yes, it’s just…I’m okay, I text.
This whole thing with the baby has really made me realize how deeply, how completely I love him. I just want it all, him in any way, even with baggage and with anything else.
I curl my legs underneath me as I sit on the couch and stare at Christos’s contact.
I want to thank him for staying to make sure things went smoothly, for safekeeping my business for me when I should have maybe stayed too.
I lost it tonight. What I asked of him was selfish of me to ask, but I keep thinking: this is one chance.
We have just this one chance.
And he chose me. He looked at me and those eyes were clearly saying, he chooses me.
Oh god. Nervous about how his talk with Miranda will go, I stare at my phone. I want to call him and ask how he is, but I also want to give him space.
I need to walk. Clear my head. So I head to Washington Square Park. It’s isolated at night, and all lit up. The arch, the fountain, the water, it always makes me feel better. At 11 a.m. the dog park is full of dogs, but tonight at 11 p.m. it’s vacant.
“Pretty nice all lit up. Isn’t it?”
I flip around, startled to see Aaric standing there. As real as real gets, and as gorgeous as he was an hour ago.
“What are you doing here? How did you find me?” I ask, breathless.
He raises his hand. “Find my friends.” He shows me his phone. “Or should I say, Find the love of my life.”
“You don’t believe in that.”
“Yes, I do. But I found her too early. Too easy. Maybe sooner than she was ready. Sooner than I was ready.”
There’s a soft sound—the sound of me sharply inhaling my breath as he comes to stand next to me. To watch the fountain, next to me.
The familiar feel of his body heat envelops me. It fills me with such acute longing I need to bite down desperately on my lips while I try to remember to breathe.
“She’s getting tested as soon as she can,” he says.
My heart is starting to pound as he reaches out to hook his index finger with mine. He runs his thumb along my hand, his voice low and tender.
“You were right. This has been so hard because the truth I’ve been trying to accept is wrong. It doesn’t matter if I have a child with someone else as long as I want you, love you.
“This issue with Miranda has felt so painful because it’s wrong. Because we could do this, Bryn. You and I. Because this is our only second chance. Our last chance.” He takes me by the shoulders and turns me around to face him—his eyes a dark, vivid gold and raw with emotion.
“Anything keeping me away from you is wrong. My fears or yours. My desires for a family even when you can give me one. We sometimes don’t get the family we choose, even the kids we have, or how they sometimes come. But you choose who you marry. Who you spend your life with. And I very,” he emphasizes meaningfully, “desperately want it to be you.”
He shakes his head slowly. “No family can be happy if the father is miserable. I would want my child to be proud of me, knowing I did the right thing and not hurt the girl I’ve always loved.” He cups my face. “I want a family. I want it with you. The woman I lo—”
Anxious, I quiet him with my finger, pressing it to his lips. Then I quickly, almost frantically, rise up on tiptoe, pressing my mouth to my thumb and kissing it. I drop my thumb, and then I’m kissing him because in the midst of all the what ifs, sometimes you need to make a choice.
He takes control and lifts me up, kissing me thoroughly.
A couple of tears slip out, sliding down my cheeks as I smile against his mouth. “Don’t cry,” he says.
“I’m happy. They’re happy tears.”
“Then I won’t mind seeing more of that.”
A tender look sweeps into his eyes as he drinks me in, dries my eyes as if he won’t ever have me cry again, and he leans down and kisses me some more.
“You look gorgeous.” He eyes my dress, when he eases back to let me catch a breath.
“This old thing?” I tease.
He smiles.
“Amazing what the right clothes do for a woman even when she feels like shit,” I admit.
“Amazing what the right woman does for a man even when things go to shit.”
He brushes my mouth, hungry, as he nuzzles me.
“Always had a thing for your nose,” I breathe.
“Really.”
“Hmm. Lots of character.” I nuzzle him.
“Big as shit.”
“Yes.”
“All the more to smell you better.”
I laugh and snuggle into him. “You’re all big as shit, it’s perfect on your face.” I stop to touch his face. “I love your face.”
Tenderness, it’s wild and free and raw and primal, and it’s all in his kiss as he nuzzles my nose with his, melting me before his lips crush mine sort of proprietary, sort of fierce, sort of possessive, sort of exquisitely.
He boosts me up by the butt and sets me down on the fountain ledge, bringing me to his eyelevel.
I slip my arms around his neck, and he holds me by the waist. “For a while I’ve been all business. After I lost my mother. I was good at it. I convinced myself that if you’d have gone for me, you would have, long ago—so I never came back. I was good at business, and that was that. I thought I didn’t need more. I do.” He slides his hand into the back of my neck, his grip possessive on my nape as he squeezes gently, his gaze carving into me. “I want, need more. You. Your acceptance, your love. Your smiles, your kindness, your sweetness. Mine. For me.”
I nod so fast I get dizzy, and he chuckles as he boosts me down. We start to walk along the park.
He looks at me as if he doesn’t plan to forget a single feature of my face.
We look at each other as if for the first time.
“Let’s have a do-over,” he says, tugging me close.
“No.” I shake my head, pressing my cheek to his chest. “I don’t want to have missed a thing.”
“Then let’s not miss a thing of what’s coming.”
He looks down at me and brushes my lips with his thumb. “Babies.”
I nod.
“Marriage.”
I nod.
“Considering I’m marrying you in City Hall as fast as I can…can I at l
east have your name?”
I laugh, cheeks burning.
“Bryn.”
“Bryn. I’m Aaric,” he says, cupping my cheek in one big hand and bringing his eyes to look deep into mine, giving me the most devastating grin. “Bryn, I see my future in your eyes.”
DEAR READERS,
Thanks so much for picking up Tycoon. I hope you enjoyed Christos and Bryn’s story as much as I did writing it. And most definitely, yes! Sara and Ian are next! :D
XOXO,
TYCOON
White House series:
MR. PRESIDENT
COMMANDER IN CHIEF
Manwhore series:
MANWHORE
MANWHORE +1
MS. MANWHORE
LADIES’ MAN
WOMANIZER
Real series:
REAL
MINE
REMY
ROGUE
RIPPED
LEGEND
Although writing is a personal thing and sometimes quite a lonely profession, publishing is a whole other beast, and I couldn’t do it without the help and support of my amazing team. I’m grateful to you all.
To my family, I love you!
Thank you Amy and everyone at Jane Rotrosen Agency!
Thank you CeCe, Lisa, Anita, Nina, Angie, Monica, Kati and Kim.
Thank you Nina, Jenn, and everyone at Social Butterfly PR…
Thank you Melissa,
Gel,
S&S Audio,
and my fabulous foreign publishers.
Special thanks to Sara at Okay Creations for the beautiful cover
And to Wong Sim and Chad Hurst for the kickass image.
Thank you Julie for formatting,
to bloggers for sharing and supporting my work throughout the years,
and readers~ I’m truly blessed to have such an enthusiastic, cool crowd of people to share my books with. You are the greatest.
New York Times, USA Today, and Wall Street Journal bestselling author Katy Evans is the author of the Real, Manwhore, and White House series. She lives with her husband, two kids, and their beloved dogs. To find out more about her or her books, visit her pages.
She’d love to hear from you.
Website:
www.katyevans.net
Facebook:
https://www.facebook.com/AuthorKatyEvans
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@authorkatyevans
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COPYRIGHT
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system without the prior written consent from the publisher, except in the instance of quotes for reviews. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded, or distributed via the Internet without the publisher’s permission and is a violation of the international copyright law.
This is a work of fiction. The names, characters, incidents, and places are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or actual events is entirely coincidental. The author acknowledges the trademark status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment. Ebook copies may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share with a friend, please buy an extra copy, and thank you for respecting the author’s work.
Copyright © 2017 by Katy Evans
Cover design by Sara Hansen at Okay Creations
Cover image by Wong Sim
Cover model Chad Hurst
Interior formatting by JT Formatting
ISBN-13: 978-0-9972636-5-7
ISBN-13: (print) 978-1545501702
CONTENTS
TITLE PAGE
PLAYLIST
THE CALL
FAVOR
SERENDIPITY
DOUBLE A
THE SHINY SILVER-EMBOSSED CARD
YOURS
NO KIDDING
START
MONDAY
’BYE, BIT
1 A.M.
WHERE IS SHE?
SPECKS
YOGA
YOU, THERE
S.O.B
FIRST SIGHT
BUSINESS
MORNING AFTER
FIG & OLIVE
GOOD ENOUGH
IN THE STARS
FIFTH AVE
THE FALL
1 A.M.
CORNER OFFICE
CENTRAL PARK
NEXT DAY
HER
GET DRESSED
DONE
MATCH
CHANCE
LISTS AND BOXES
1 A.M.
HOUSE OF SAD
CHOICE
ALWAYS
DEAR READERS
TITLES BY KATY EVANS
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
ABOUT
COPYRIGHT
Katy Evans, Tycoon
(Series: Manhattan # 1)
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