Chapter Twenty-Two

~ Scotty ~

"I'm home," I called out as I let myself into our apartment. It had been three weeks since we moved in and I was slowly starting to get used to the place.

"I'm in the kitchen," Beck called out.

I smiled as I tossed my keys into the bowl on the table by the door and then hung my jacket up in the closet. Winter wasn't here yet, but fall was. It had grown a bit chilly outside.

Of course, the view of Central Park with all of its trees turning to fall colors couldn't be beat. Beck and I still sat out on the veranda and drank our coffee. We just did it bundled up.

Something warm filled my chest when I walked into the kitchen and found Beck standing before the stove, stirring something that smelled fantastic.

It was even better when he glanced over his shoulder at me and smiled. "Hey, welcome home."

The word home had taken on a new meaning in the last three weeks. The apartment Jake let us have was wonderful. It was close to work, close to the park, and close to pretty much everything.

But it was the life we were living inside these walls that made this place truly a home. There was no more hiding our relationship in the shadows. I could hug and kiss Beck whenever I wanted to.

And I wanted to. I'd been at work all day and hadn't seen Beck since I left him sleeping in bed this morning.

"Hi, baby." I walked over to stand behind him, wrapping my arms around his chest. I nestled my face into the crook of his neck and nuzzled the soft skin there. "I missed you."

Beck reached back and pressed a hand to the side of my face. "I missed you, too."

"How was your day?"

"It was good. Jai took me shopping and then we went to his favorite bistro. A few of his friends joined us."

"Did you have a good time?"

Beck shot me a smile. "I did."

"How's Dad?"

"He had a good day, too. The doc dropped by to check him over and he said he's in pretty good shape after what he went through."

I still fumed with anger every time I thought about what my stepmother had done to my father. We were still gathering evidence and getting expert opinions on my father's condition, but Cynthia would be spending the rest of her life behind bars if I had my way.

Unfortunately, I had to let the lawyers and the courts handle this.

"Why don't you go get changed?" Beck suggested. "Dinner should be ready in about twenty minutes. You have time for a shower if you're quick."

"Thanks, babe." I pressed a kiss to Beck's cheek and then swatted him on the butt as I walked away.

"Hey, how was work today?" Beck asked before I could leave the kitchen. "Are you getting settled in okay?"

"Work was good. I'm still a little shocked that Jake made me a division head, but I like the work and the people I am working with. My division is in charge of all of Jake's real estate holdings, and there are a lot of them. That man saw the signs coming and started buying up commercial properties in impoverished areas, one piece at a time and then refurbishing them. If he keeps this up, he's going to own all of New York City."

"We seriously need to think about buying shares in Jake's company."

"Already taken care of, love." I wagged my eyebrows at him. "Shares in the company come as part of my benefit package. The longer I am there, the more shares I get. Apparently it's standard for all salaried employees."

"That Jake D'Amato. He's a smart, smart man."

I couldn't disagree. Any boss worth his salt knew that happy employees made better employees. By giving them a chance to share in the profits for their hard work above and beyond their salary made them work harder.

"Go shower."

"Yes, dear."

I still had a smile on my face when I reached my father's bedroom and gently rapped on the door.

"Come."

I opened the door and stepped inside. My father was lying in bed watching TV. The improvement in his condition had been amazing, especially after Spencer took him off all of the medication Cynthia had been giving him. Granted, he'd had to have a complete workup from another doctor and get new medications, but his condition still improved.

"Hey, Dad, how are you doing today?"

"Son." My father smiled brightly as he patted the side of the bed next to him. "I'm good today. Just resting and catching up on my shows. I missed a lot over the last ten years."

I winced as guilt swamped me. I should have figured out Cynthia was messing with his medications before now. I had missed ten years of my father being able to simply talk to me and I hated it.

"Hey, stop it." My father lightly smacked me on the top of the head. "You did what you could and you saved me, you saved all of us. This isn't on you so stop feeling so guilty. You had no reason to think my condition wasn't due to the stroke."

"I should have," I insisted.

"Are you a medical doctor?"

"Not, but—"

"No buts, Maxwell. You did what you could with what you had."

Yeah, that didn't make me feel any better.

"Let's just enjoy the freedom we have now, okay? No guilt, no 'what ifs'. Just happiness and the family we have here."

"Yes, Dad."

"Now, give me a hug and let me get back to my show. They were just getting to the good part."

I snorted out a laugh. "Yes, Dad."

I gave my father a hug, enjoying the feel of his arms wrapping around me. It had been a long time since I'd been able to experience a hug from my father.

"I love you, Maxwell."

"I know, Dad. I love you, too."

I got up and walked to the door, glancing back once to see my father wiping a tear away from his eye. I pretended not to see it, knowing he wouldn't want me to.

"Beck says dinner will be ready in twenty minutes," I said as I opened the door and walked out. I quietly closed it behind me and then made my way to the master suite.

I hurried through my shower and changing my clothes simply because I wanted to get back to Beck. It was true. I had missed him. Even though I got to see him every morning and every evening and spend my weekends with him—unlike before when it was only once or twice a week—missing him seemed to have become engrained in my soul.

When I reached the kitchen, Beck was just taking food out of the oven. "Can I help?"

"I already set the table, but you could grab the salad out of the fridge."

"Okay." I grabbed the salad and some salad tongs and carried them to the table. There were only three place settings. "Where's Chelsea? Isn't she eating with us?"

"No." Beck grinned. "She has a date."

My eyebrows snapped together at the thought of my unofficially adopted sister dating anyone I hadn't vetted. "With who?"

"His name is George," Beck replied. "He works as a security guard in Jake's company building."

Oh, George. I'd met him and he seemed like an okay guy. I'd still be asking Jake about him.

"I found this great recipe for a filet minion with a whiskey sauce. I hope you like it."

I'm sure I would. It smelled fantastic.

"You're a great cook, Beck." I smiled when I saw the small flush that filled Beck's cheeks. "You're an even better wife."

Beck gasped at me, his mouth hanging open.

I lifted his chin, closing his mouth as I walked past him. "Careful there, love. Leave that sweet mouth of yours open for too long and I'll put something in it."

"Scotty!"

"Yes, dear?" I asked with total innocence.

Beck's eyes rolled which tickled me to no end. I loved the fact that we could be so easy with each other. Being in love wasn't all angst and heartache. It was laughing and loving and being comfortable enough with each other to be ourselves.

Beck had taught me that.

We just started to sit down to dinner when the phone rang. I jumped up and went over to answer it. "Hello?"

"Mr. Prescott, this is Jim down at lobby security. There's a Detective Waterston here to speak with you."

"Oh?" I frowned as I glanced at Beck, a sick feeling taking up residence in my gut. "Did he say what he wanted?"

"No, sir, just that he needed to speak with you."

"Well, send him up then." It wasn't like I could deny him entry, not unless I wanted to create a huge mess that I wasn't prepared to deal with. I hung up with security and started dialing Jake. "Baby, you're going to want to put everything in the warming oven. It might be awhile before we're able to eat."

"What is it?"

"Security said there is a police detective here to speak with us."

"Do you think it's Cynthia?"

"Probably." This is why I was calling Jake. "Hey, Jake," I said as soon as he answered. "I need you and Miles to come down to my place. There's a Detective Waterston on his way up to speak with me."

"We're on our way."

Beck started putting the food back into the oven. I grabbed the salad and stuck it in the fridge. By the time we were done, there was a knock at the door.

I drew in a calming breath and then went to answer it. As soon as I opened the door, I scowled. "You may come in, Detective, but she may not."

I was nice. I didn't call her a bitch...yet.

"Where's my husband?" Cynthia snarled as she tried to push past the detective. "I know you did something to him. Did you kill him for his money? You won't inherit a single cent. I'm his wife."

"No, you're not."

I whipped around when I heard my father's voice behind me. He was walking out of the hallway using a cane. The doctor said he would probably need to use a cane for the rest of his life, but at least he was walking.

"We've been divorced for over ten years, Cynthia," my father stated, "and you know it. The divorce papers were filed before I had my stroke."

"Jonathan," Cynthia gasped. "You're...you're..."

"Alive?" My father chuckled. "Despite what you tried to do to me, I survived. Not only am I alive, but I have my full faculties, as documented by an entire panel of doctors, so you can forget about trying to say I'm crazy or delusional."

Cynthia paled so much, her red lipstick looked pink. "Jonathan, I would never—"

"Excuse me," Jake said as he pushed past Cynthia, walking into the apartment followed closely by Miles and two other men that I knew to be their bodyguards.

"Detective Waterston." Jake held out his hand to shake the detective's. "How long has it been?"

"Not long enough." The detective sighed. "I suppose he's one of yours?"

Jake chuckled. "He is."

The guy suddenly looked really tired. He rubbed the bridge of his nose for a moment before dropping his hand. "Fine, can we take this inside and you can give me whatever I need to know? I don't relish doing it out here in the corridor."

I glanced at Jake. When he nodded, I smiled and invited the detective inside. "She can come, too, as long as you keep an eye on her. I don't trust her around my father. She already tried to hurt him once. I wouldn't put anything past her."

Once everyone came inside, I closed the door and then walked over to stand next to Jake before looking back at Cynthia. "What?" It was so hard not to sneer. "You didn't bring your little protégé?"

"Julia is heartbroken that you left her the way you did," Cynthia stated, "and she's waiting for you to come back so you two can get married."

"Sorry." I grinned as I held up my hand and wiggled my ring finger. "I'm, already married."

Cynthia's eyes rounded for a moment before narrow to tiny little slits of rage. "Married to whom?"

"Me," Beck said as he stepped out of the kitchen and came to my side.

Her mouth parted as if she couldn't believe Beck was standing right next to me. "You married your sister's fiancé?"

"No," Beck replied. "I married my fiancé. Scotty was mine long before you came up with your little scheme to marry him off to my sister."

"You know you've broken your sister's heart, don't you? She loved Maxwell."

"She loves my father's money, just as you do. I didn't even know Julia before you tried to engage me to her. Never even met her before then." I wrapped an arm around Beck's shoulders. "Beck, on the other hand, I had already been dating for months before then."

"You accepted the engagement," Cynthia insisted.

"Did I?" I asked. "Did I ever once agree to the marriage?"

"You bought her an engagement ring."

"I bought a ring at a second hand store for ten bucks. I didn't even give it to her. That does not an engagement make, especially since I never agreed to it. You demanded I marry her and informed me that it was going to happen or you'd put my father in a hell hole. I never once asked Julia to be my wife."

"That ring was fake?" Cynthia screamed.

That's what she got out of what I said?

This woman was nuts.

"No, it was a real ring," I said. "It just wasn't a real diamond. I'm not even sure it was made of cubic zirconium."

"You have an obligation to marry Julia."

"Not going to happen," Beck said. "Scotty and I are married and we're going to stay married. If you and Julia insist that she needs to get married so much, why don't you marry her? I hear you're single."

Cynthia's screech of outrage was a beautiful thing to hear.