The Takeover (The Miles High Club #2)

by T.L. Swan

I let myself become too attached to her. From the moment I left Paris, all I have thought about is her. I’ve chased her, I’ve called her, I’ve booked hotel rooms and begged to see her every lunch hour, I’ve gone to her house and put up with shit from her children. And for the first time ever since I’ve been dating, I’ve done everything I could to try to make someone happy. And she was missing him. I feel stupid, but worst of all, for the first time, I feel hurt. I don’t like it.

“Claire . . . I’ve never just fucked you. Never once have we just fucked,” he whispers.

We could make it work, all of us together.”

“I want you, Claire. From the moment I left Paris, I have wanted you.”

“I went away and thought about my preconceived ideas and what being with you means. Nobody else interests me in the slightest, and sure . . .” He pauses. “I’ll admit it—the boys freaked me out at first . . . and I didn’t handle that too well. But then I realized that they are a part of you, and if I want you, I have to want them. I have a long way to go with them, but we’ll get there eventually.”

“Claire. When I’m with you, I don’t want to be anywhere else. I would rather sleep on your lounge than be alone at my apartment.”

“Because I’m close to you . . . and . . . . I’m close to them.”

“I want to try,” he whispers. “I want to try the proper relationship thing—girlfriend, kids, house in the suburbs, and the mangy animals.”

“The way you make me feel is worth anything,” he whispers.

“And you look spectacular in my bathtub.”

My Tristan.

“Because she wasn’t you.”

“Elliot is obsessed with this artist, has all her paintings that have gone up for auction.”

“How do you feel, Tris?” I whisper. His eyes meet mine. “Like myself.” Emotion fills my heart. “I feel that when I’m with you, I’m who I’m supposed to be.”

“You’re everything I never knew I wanted. Feminine but strong. Your beautiful body.” He smiles softly. “Your selflessness with your boys.” I watch him as my heart somersaults in my chest. “You put everyone’s needs before yourself, Claire.” My stomach clenches. “And for the first time in my life, you make me want to put someone before me.”

It’s official—I do love this man . . . I really do.

“There’s a reason I wanted to have dinner tonight, Claire,” he says loudly so that everyone can hear what he says. I frown. “There is?” The table falls silent. “Yes.” He straightens his tie, as if preparing himself for something. “I was wondering if you would like to go out with me next weekend.” My face falls. “Like on a date?” Harry whispers, mortified. “Yes,” Tristan replies, unrattled. “Like on a date. I would like to be your boyfriend, Claire Anderson. What do you say?”

I love you.

There’s a reason Tristan Miles is the takeover king. When he knows what he wants, he goes and gets it. A charming, aggressive sales pitch that is second to none. The master magician.

“I love you, Tristan,” she whispers.

“It’s about fucking time, Anderson,” I whisper.

“This is about me . . . loving you. I wanted to tell you, and I know it’s premature. But I can’t hold it in anymore. It doesn’t matter how you feel about me, but I wanted you to know how I feel about you.”

I do love you.

For the first time in my life, I feel at home.

“You don’t want your own kids?” he asks. “I do.” I undo my tie with a sharp snap. “But I want your mother more.”

I’M A VERY HAPPY MAN TODAY. #TOBELOVEDBYYOU TRIS xox

“Fuck me like you hate me,” he whispers.

“You look fucking edible, Anderson,” he murmurs against my lips.

“I love you, Claire,” he whispers. My heart collapses.

his older brother, Jameson, is known for being one of the biggest assholes in the world.

The family he loved . . . is now with me. In my care, for me to love.

I’m in love with a beautiful man.

“I don’t like her, Mom. I love her.”

“Hi, Tris.” I smile sadly. “It’s me.” I pause as I try to get the wording right. “I hope everything went well with you and Mary tonight.” My face crumples. “I just want you to know that I understand and . . .” I drop my head. “And . . . thank you.” I screw up my face. “Thank you for trying with us. I appreciate it more than you know . . . but I’m letting you go.” I wipe the tears as they roll down my face. “I want you to be with her. Your mother is right.” I smile sadly. “She’s the one you really love.”

“No, she’s not.” The voice comes from behind me.

“I love you.” He kisses me softly. “And to be honest, I’m glad I went, because it proved something to me . . . my mother’s got it all wrong.” He takes my face into his hands, and I stare up at him through tears. “You and the boys . . . are saving me. Not the other way around.”

“I love you,” he whispers. “I don’t want to be anywhere else.

“I love you more than anything. This . . . is where I want to be.”

“And I’m going to kill Fletcher for listening through doors,”

“And the Muff Cat is going fucking down. I’m going inside to piss in its bed right now.”

“And how dare you think I was in love with Mary?” he whispers. “I’m fucking your ass for that, Anderson.”

I giggle. My man ...

Oh, he’s good.

I’m in love with Superman. My hero.

I want him to be proud of me, like I am of him.

Love is stupid. Love is blind. Love is a fucking bitch!

“So . . . what you are saying, Claire, is that you want me to step in and be Wade.” My face falls. “What? No.” “Yes, you do.” “I don’t. I swear.” “You want me to live in Wade’s house, with Wade’s wife . . . with Wade’s children.” I stare at him. “What about fucking me, Claire?” he cries. “Where the fuck is my life?” My eyes fill with tears at his anger. “Tristan,” I whisper. “I want my own wife, Claire, with my own children and to live in a fucking house that we choose together.”

“You told me when we met that there were three hearts connected to yours.” He begins to pace. “Did you not?” I stay silent. “Answer me . . . fuck it!” he screams. I jump. “Yes.” “So now that I’m in love with those hearts, and I want them as my sons”—he glares at me—“you tell me that I can’t have them?”

I’m nobody’s backup plan.”

“He’s going to Paris.” “For how long?” “He just transferred my internship to Jameson.” I stand as my eyes widen. “What?” “He said he’s not coming back, Mom. You really did it,” he whispers angrily.