The Do-Over (The Miles High Club Book 4)

I watch Hayden disappear into the store to buy her magazine with a smile.

“What you thinking about?” Harvey asks from his seat beside me.

“Just how lucky I am.”

“That you are,” he replies.

“We just got her back.” Valerie wrings her hands in her lap, and I know this can’t be easy for her.

“I’m going to look after her, Mrs. Whitmore. You have my word.”

She nods, her eyes filling with tears, and as if sensing an impending meltdown, she stands. “I’m going to the bathroom,” she says before rushing off.

I watch Valerie walk away while wiping her tears away, and despair fills me.

“Christopher . . . ,” Harvey says as he stares at me.

“Yes.”

“Now . . . if you know Hayden like I think you do, you understand that she’s special.”

I nod. “I do.”

“Hayden isn’t like other people. She’s different. She’s kind and trusting and hates drama. You’ll never hear her complain.”

“It’s those qualities in her that I love, Mr. Whitmore.”

“Her empathy for those around her is her biggest strength and yet her greatest weakness,” he continues. “We had hoped that she would toughen up on that trip around the world, but she’s come back so madly in love with you that she can’t even see straight.”

My eyes search his.

“What I’m trying to say is that it is up to you to make sure that she’s happy.”

I frown.

“She will put your needs and your happiness before her own because when Hayden loves, it’s forever.”

I get a lump in my throat.

“Hayden doesn’t say much, but I’m trusting you to read between the lines and guarantee me that you will protect her at all costs . . . even if that means hurting yourself.”

I imagine if Hayden ever left me . . . and the devastation it would cause.

I would never recover.

His silhouette blurs as my eyes fill with tears. “You have my word.” I shake his hand, and his eyes fill with tears too.

Fuck me dead.

I wipe my eyes, embarrassed. “Stop.” I laugh.

He pulls me into a hug. “I’m trusting you with the most important thing in the world. Promise me to keep her safe.”

“I promise.” He slaps me on the back, and I know that this is it.

From here on in, I have to adult. There is no room for mistakes in my life anymore. If I want to love someone like Hayden, I need to step up and be the man that she deserves.

“I don’t believe it,” Hayden’s voice says from beside us. “You two hugging it out now?”

We step back from each other in a rush. “I was just telling him how much I hate him,” Harvey says in his stern voice.

I chuckle, because now I know. This man is a big softy. “Sure, you were.”

“Where’s Mom?” Hayden looks around.

“Crying in the bathroom, I suspect,” Harvey replies.

“Oh.” Her face falls. “I’m going to check on her.” She hands me a paper and raises her eyebrow. “Got you some interesting reading material.”

I frown at her undertone and glance down at the Ferrara News and see the headline.

Fuck.

Harvey and I sit back down, and as he continues talking, I casually flick through the paper until I get to the story.

Christopher Miles has returned from a sabbatical with Miss Average.

I inhale sharply as the sky turns red.

How dare they.

How. Fucking. Dare. They.

Do not mess with Hayden.

Screw me over all you like, but mention one hair on her head, and it’s fucking war.

I stand, too angry to stay seated. “You want a cup of coffee?” I ask Harvey.

“No, thanks.”

I march in the direction of the cafeteria and scroll through my phone. I turn the corner and call the Miles Media head lawyer.

“Christopher,” he answers in surprise. “How are you?”

“Furious,” I growl. “There is a story run in today’s US Ferrara News about my girlfriend, and I want fucking blood,” I spit. “I want a retraction, an apology, and if they dare run one more fucking story in regards to her . . . I’m taking them to court,” I whisper angrily. “The images have been photoshopped and are complete and utter fucking bullshit.”

“Calm down.”

“I will not calm down,” I half yell. “You fix this. You fucking fix this right now!”

“I’m on it.”

I hang up in a rush. Adrenaline is pumping through my veins. The sky is so red that I can hardly see. I pace back and forth as I try to calm myself down. I’ve never been so fucking angry.

Average . . . what the actual fuck?

How dare they!

How dare they disrespect any woman with that derogatory term. But my woman . . . no fucking way.

My phone rings.

Jameson

“What?” I answer.

“I just saw it,” he replies.

“You sort this fucking shit out,” I fume as I pace. “I will not have her treated like this.”

“We’re already on it. Calm down.”

“Calm down!” I cry. “Ferrara just drew a line in the sand. They’re going to target her.”

“We don’t know that.”

“Yes. We fucking do!” I yell. My heart is hammering in my chest. I’m so angry I can hardly even speak. “I’m about to get on a plane. Sort it out.” I hang up in a rush.

I go to the window and stare out at the planes on the runway as I imagine the shitstorm we’re about to fly into.

My god.

“Babe.” Hayden’s hand slides around my waist from behind. “Is everything all right?”

I turn and take her into my arms, and instantly I begin to relax. This woman is so calming and so beautiful, and fucking hell, whatever does she see in me?

“I’m so sorry,” I whisper, “that . . .” I pause. “Please know that the story is an attack on me, not you. It’s not personal.”

Her eyes search mine. “Feels pretty personal.”

I hug her and hold her tight, and I have no idea what to say to make this any better. “I’m on it,” I reply.

“What does that mean?”

“I want a retraction.”

Her face falls as she steps back from me. “So what you’ve effectively done is to make sure that everybody will know about the story now?”

“Hayden, they can’t get away with writing a story like this. I won’t stand by and let some idiotic woman write about you in this manner.”

“How do you know it was a woman?”

“Because men don’t think about women this way. We just don’t.”

“That photo was tampered with,” she says as she looks up at me. “I don’t have cellulite in my ankles. Nobody on earth does, not even elephants.”

“I know. I’m so sorry. This is so appalling.” I stare at her. My heart is in my throat as I wait for the impending explosion.

“This isn’t appalling.” She frowns. “What it is . . . is pathetic journalism on their behalf. I mean, if they called me a racist or a homophobe, I would be outraged and heartbroken.” She shrugs. “But . . . I have nothing to be ashamed about. I’m not a size two, and I’m not a supermodel. I’m completely okay with that.”

I stare at the beautiful woman in front of me. Such a different species of female from what I’ve ever known.

“I mean, not my best shot . . . obviously.” She widens her eyes. “Hideous, actually.”

“How are you not upset about this?” I frown.

“Because I’m more than that. And if someone judges me about my looks, then it’s a reflection of them and not me.”

My god . . .

“Do you know how much I love you?” I whisper.

“Well, you better, because I’m just about to move to Bumfuck, London, to live with you.”

I chuckle and take her into my arms, and we hold each other, and after a while, I feel my heartbeat slowly return to normal.

“My mom is crying.” She sighs. “And our flight is boarding.”

“God.”

“You ready to go to Bumfuck, London?” She smiles up at me.

“Please tell me there’s bumfucking in London.”

“Keep dreaming.” She smirks as she turns and walks off.

I stare after her . . . awed.

Hayden Whitmore just may be the strongest person I know . . . perhaps have ever met.

Calm and content, her nature is a force to be reckoned with.

Just when I think I couldn’t love her any more, she goes and ups the ante.

I follow her out into the departure lounge. With my heart breaking for her parents, I watch her kiss her mom and dad as they say their goodbyes.

I kiss her mom and shake Harvey’s hand, and he gives me a wink as a gentle reminder of the conversation we had.

“I’ll take good care of her.” I smile, grateful that he has bestowed me with such a precious gift. “Goodbye, Mr. Whitmore.”

“Goodbye, Christopher.”

I take Hayden’s hand, and as she waves to them over her shoulder, we start our new life.

Together.

HAYDEN

The car pulls into the underground parking lot, and I peer out the window in awe.

So many fancy cars all lined up.

We come to a stop beside the elevator, and the driver pops the trunk and hops out to retrieve our luggage.

“We won’t be going out again tonight,” Christopher tells him. “You may finish up.”

“Yes, sir.” He nods. “Would you like me to take your bags up for you?”

“No, I’ve got it. Thanks.”

“See you in the morning.” He turns to me with a kind smile. “Good night, Miss Whitmore.”

“Good night.” I smile. Oh, I like this driver. He’s a nice person; I can tell.

Christopher takes his big backpack and swings it onto his back and goes to take mine, too, and I hold the strap. “I’ve got it.”

“I’ll carry it up.”

“I am quite capable of carrying my own backpack, Christopher,” I huff. “Don’t insult my intelligence.”

He chuckles and drops it at my feet. It lands with a thud.

“You could have passed it to me,” I scoff.

“Wouldn’t want to insult your intelligence,” he mutters as he gets into the elevator. He turns to face the front with a mischievous look on his face.

I know that look.

I step in beside him and turn to face the front. “I suppose this apartment is going to be another dumpster fire.”

He chuckles. “You could say that.”

“And the bed?”

“Already been burned and a new one installed for your highness.”

“So where are we sleeping?”

“The new one is ready and waiting to be corrupted with your forever-faithful servant.”

“You’ve thought of everything.” I smile.

He links his pinkie finger through mine, and we both smile as we stare at the doors. Such a simple and small gesture, but . . . it means so much.

“Leather couch, white bathrooms,” I say.

He frowns over at me. “What do you mean?”

“I’m guessing that you have a leather couch and white marble bathrooms.”

He smiles . . . he likes this game. “What makes you say that?”

“Because I know your taste.”

“Oh.” He raises an eyebrow. “Is that so?”

“Uh-huh.”

“You want to bet on it?”

“Yep.” I hold my hand out to shake his. “Fifty bucks.”

His eyes twinkle in delight. “No, no, no, I only bet for things that I need.”

“Such as?”

“Anal.”

“What?” My eyes widen.

The elevator door opens, and he smiles over at me. “You heard me. I want to see how much of a gambler you really are.” He leans down and puts his lips to my ear and whispers, “If you’ll put your body on the line.”

I bite my lip to hide my smile.

It’s a test.

I roll my lips as I stare at him. This could backfire badly.

“All right . . . anal.” I hold my hand out, and we shake on it.

He opens the door with an evil laugh, and as I put my hands over my eyes, I laugh. “Don’t. I can’t even look.”

“Don’t worry, I have lube,” he teases as he pulls me through the apartment. My hands are still over my eyes.

“Stop it.”

“Ta-da.” He pulls my arms down, and we are in the most beautiful living room of all time. A chocolate leather couch sits proud as punch in the center of the room.

“Ha.” I laugh. “I knew it.”

“But . . . are the bathrooms white?”

I smile. I like this game too.

I turn and run up the stairs to find his bedroom as he chases me. I run down the large hallway and into the bedroom and stop dead in my tracks.

The air leaves my lungs, and my mouth falls open as I look around.

The bedroom is filled with red roses.

Vase after vase.

Beautiful roses with huge heads.

My eyes find his. “What’s this?”

“Well . . .” He shrugs casually as he looks around. “If I’m going to fuck you up the ass . . . I want it to be romantic.”

I burst out laughing, and his eyes hold mine as he laughs too. He takes me into his arms and kisses me softly.

“Is the bathroom white?” I murmur against his lips.

“No.”

I pull out of his arms and walk into the bathroom. “Got you,” I cry.

A white marble bathroom sits in all its grandeur.

“Fuck off.” He screws up his face. “How did you know that?” He turns the shower on and slams me up against the tiles. His lips take mine with hunger, and then he pulls me in under the water, clothes and all. We kiss, frantic and wild.

It’s hot and wet . . . and perfect.

Like him.

With our lips locked, he pulls my wet shirt off over my head.

“Who brought the roses over?” I ask.

He unzips my jeans and slides them down. “Elliot.”

I giggle as I step out of the wet pants. “You made your brother bring me flowers?”

“Yes.” He kisses me. His tongue swipes through my open lips. “He’s working with me on the romantic-anal thing. It’s a two-man job.”

I laugh out loud again. This man kills me.

He kisses me again, and as his clothes come off, we fall silent as we stare at each other.

His huge erection demands attention as it rests up against my lower stomach, and I take it in my hand and stroke him as we kiss. He’s more himself here. I didn’t realize he was quiet at my parents’ until we landed in the UK.

His dark hair hangs over his forehead. His lips are big and soft, and damn. His large muscular body is dripping wet and with that waiting erection . . . just for me.

I’m in heaven.

He smiles darkly as he lifts me off my feet and pins me to the tiles. He wraps my legs around his waist and slides in deep.

My body ripples around his as he takes me over. This is what he does so well: dominates me . . . fucks me so deep that I can hardly remember my name.

We stare at each other, the water running over our heads, arousal screaming through my senses.

His dark eyes hold mine as he pulls out and slams in hard.

“Ahh,” I cry out. The tiles are cold and hard on my back. Not that it matters now; when we are like this with each other, nothing else matters.

Brilliant and blinding orgasm is all that we can see.

He puts his two hands on my shoulders and pushes me up against the wall and steps back from me. “Lift your legs higher,” he instructs me.

My eyes flutter closed . . . fuck.

I lift my legs, and he spreads his legs wide for leverage and lets me have it. Deep, punishing hits. The sound of the water slapping between our bodies is loud.

The friction burns from his heavy cock as it pounds me hard.

So good.

His breathing is labored, and his eyes begin to roll back in his head. I smile triumphantly. This is when I love him the most.

When he is at my mercy, in this moment. I own him . . . and he knows it.

He grips my calf muscles as he holds me. I’m crumpled up against the wall like a piece of paper as he rides me hard.

And it’s good . . . so fucking good.

“Oh . . . ,” I moan. I try to hold it off, but I can’t. I need it. I shudder hard as a freight train of an orgasm slams me.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck,” he moans as he holds himself deep and comes in a rush. I feel the telling jerk of his body inside mine.

His eyes search mine, and I smile softly.

My tiger is tamed.

We lie on our sides in bed. The room is lit only by the lamp, and we stare at each other.

It’s late.

For some reason, tonight feels like we crossed another barrier, jumped an invisible relationship fence. Hit another level. And I don’t know if it’s because we are in his main home or what it is . . . but something’s different.

His barrier has come down a little more. Day by day, he’s letting me in deeper.

And it’s dangerous because I don’t think it’s healthy to love anyone the way I do him.

“I never thought I’d have this,” he says softly.

I listen.

“I’d heard my brothers talk of it, telling me what it was like . . . but I honestly didn’t believe in it.”

“What didn’t you believe in?”

“That someone could make me feel the way you do.”

Emotion overwhelms me, and I smile as I kiss him softly. Our lips linger over each other’s. A tenderness runs between us that’s never been there before.

“I love you so much,” he murmurs.

I smile against his lips. “Still working on that anal thing?”

He chuckles. “One hundred percent.”

CHRISTOPHER

Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz . . . my phone dances across the bedside table.

I roll over to turn it off and exhale heavily. Ugh, I haven’t missed waking up to that sound.

Hayden mumbles sleepily, “You ready for your first day of work?”

“Not really.” I sigh. I should be more excited, I guess.

She smiles as she kisses my chest. Our legs are a tangled mess. “I’ll make you breakfast.”

“It’s okay. You stay in bed, babe.”

“No.” She sits up. “I need to get into a routine of some sort. I can’t be staying in bed half the day like a sloth.” She gets out of bed and puts her robe on. “And what does my man feel like to eat?” She ties the sash of her robe in a bow.

“A little bit of you wouldn’t be bad.” I grab her leg as she walks past me and pull her back onto the bed. I kiss her softly, our lips lingering over each other. “You want to come to work in my briefcase?” I ask.

“I wish.” Hayden giggles. “You could get me out and play with me in your breaks.”

I chuckle. “That’s a good plan.”

She kisses me quickly and stands. “Get up, Mr. Miles. You don’t want to be late for your first day.”

“I guess.” I sigh.

Hayden disappears out of the room, and I hear her go downstairs.

I shower and shave and dress in a navy suit and white shirt. It feels so weird to be dressed like this again. My sabbatical is already becoming a distant memory.

Something that I did once upon a time.

“Breakfast is ready, babe,” I hear Hayden call.

I smile. The drop-dead-gorgeous souvenir I brought home was well worth it, though. With Hayden in my life, I’ve never been so settled and happy.

I do up my tie and comb my hair, put on my watch and shoes, and stare at my reflection in the mirror. That’s it . . . it’s over.

Time to grow up and start my new life.

One with responsibilities and someone to take care of. I stare at my face as a twinge of sadness fills me.

Things will never be the same, from here on in . . .

“Christopher,” Hayden calls. “Don’t make me come up there and spank you.”

I smile. “Coming, dear,” I call.

“Don’t patronize me.”

“I wouldn’t dare,” I mutter to myself. I grab my briefcase and head downstairs.

Hayden is sitting at the kitchen counter; the heavenly aroma of omelet and coffee fills the apartment. The American news is on the television, and as she sits there in her robe, all disheveled and just fucked . . . a calm falls over me.

And suddenly all my fears disappear.

This is where I’m meant to be and exactly who I’m meant to be with.

London, my home. With my beloved, sweet girl.

Hayden raises her eyebrow. “Look at you being all hot CEO.” She stands and runs her hand over my behind. “Meow.”

She sits back down as my eyes hold hers.

“What is that look?” she asks.

“What look?”

“That twinkle in your eye.”

I cut into my breakfast. “I have a lot to be grateful for.”

“Like what?”

“Like omelets and coffee.” I hold my coffee cup up to her in a salute with a wink.

She giggles. “Glad I can be of service, Mr. Miles.” She holds her coffee cup up right back.

“What are you going to do today?” I ask as I cut into my omelet.

“Hmm . . .” She looks around the apartment. “I have no idea, to be honest.” She shrugs. “I guess I’ll putter around here, and then I might go for a wander.”

I frown. “Where are you going to wander to?”

“I don’t know yet.”

“Your driver will take you anywhere you want to go.”

“Or . . . I could just catch an Uber.” She widens her eyes.

“Yes. You could,” I agree. My natural instinct is to ask her to stay close to home, but I know I can’t do that.

The story in the paper has ruffled me more than I care to admit. I know I can’t keep her wrapped in cotton wool. If this is to be her home, she needs to find her own way. The mere thought of her not doing that makes me sick to my stomach.

We eat our breakfast, and I take her into my arms and kiss her softly. “Have a good day.” She smiles up at me.

“I don’t like the idea of not seeing you.” I hug her tight. “Are you sure you’re going to be all right here on your own?”

She giggles in my arms.

“Good grief, I’m pathetic,” I mutter into her hair.

“Little bit.” She pinches her fingers up in the air, and I grab her roughly on the behind and slam our hips together.

“You better fuck that out of me tonight,” I warn her.

“Okay.”

I kiss her softly and grab my briefcase. “See you tonight, babe.”

I take the elevator downstairs and walk out to see my car waiting. “Good morning, Mr. Miles.”

“Good morning, Hans.” I get into the back of the car and stare out the window as we pull out into the traffic.

This all feels so . . . foreign. Even though I’ve been doing it throughout my entire adult life.

Those twelve months away felt like a lifetime.

As we sit in the London rush hour traffic, I dial my favorite number, and he answers on the first ring. “Hello, Mr. Christo.”

His happy little voice brings a huge smile to my face. “How’s my main man?”

Forty minutes later the car pulls into the Miles Media building, and I get out of the car and peer up at the sleek and modern skyscraper.

MILES MEDIA

Hmm, it’s so . . . huge.

I walk through the foyer and notice the marble and the guards and the sheer luxury of the building.

I catch the elevator to the top floor; the doors open with a ping, and I step out to the flitter of my stomach.

I’m nervous to be back.

Here early to start the day, I walk past the empty reception and down to my office.

My eyes roam over the couch and the drop-dead-gorgeous view, the large desk and fully stocked bar in the corner. A strange feeling washes over me.

Pride.

My family has built this business from the ground up, worked their fingers to the very bone, and I owe them a lot.

I’ve been given the opportunity of a lifetime . . . and damn it, I’m going to repay them for the privilege.

I turn my computer on with a new determination. I’m going to be the best version of myself that I can be. Work harder than ever before.

At the very least, I owe them that.

I open my email. We opened it back up over the weekend in preparation for my return today.

Six hundred and twenty-six emails.

Fuck.

I open my diary on my computer and see that I’m booked back to back with appointments for nearly the entire week. Zooms and conference calls with Paris and New York. Some running late into the nights.

Ugh . . .

I have a feeling that the first few weeks are going to be hectic hell while I catch up on everything. Elliot is here for the week with me, and then he leaves for a two-month vacation, which is only fair.

Then it’s all on me.

I email Elouise, my PA.

Hi Elouise,

Great to be back!

Can you book me an appointment with Reynolds Jewels when my schedule permits please?

This week if possible.

Thank you.

Ps . . . and come and see me when you arrive!

Christopher.

I get up and make myself a coffee with a smile.

A diamond ring for my love . . .

Life is good.

HAYDEN

I walk around the apartment. It’s big and grand and deathly quiet.

There are no sounds in this penthouse. No wind, no rain . . . no cows.

Nothing.

It’s only eleven o’clock. It’s like time has stood still. What am I supposed to do for the rest of the day? I’ve already done our washing and cleaned the apartment, not that I needed to. It was already spotless.

I pick up my phone, and my finger hovers over Christopher’s name. Just a quick call?

No . . .

I need to let him work in peace. I can’t call him every time I’m bored. I throw my phone onto the couch and go to the window and stare out over the city. It’s pouring rain.

I was going to go for a walk or . . . to the shops to find a new dress for Friday night, but I don’t fancy getting saturated, and I have no idea where an umbrella is.

There’s no rush. I guess I can look around tomorrow, and I have the whole week to find a dress. How hard can it be?

I flop onto the couch and hold the remote to the television. Looks like it’s a date with Netflix.

I flick through the movies. Now . . . what will I watch?

Wednesday

I walk through the shops on autopilot.

How do people actually like shopping? I would rather pull my teeth out than do this shit for fun.

My phone rings and I dig it out of my bag.

Miles Media

Ugh, Elouise.

I’ve spoken to Christopher’s PA more than I’ve actually spoken to him this week. “Hi, Elouise,” I answer.

“Hello, Hayden,” she replies happily.

“What’s happening?”

“Christopher asked me to call you.”

Of course he did.

“Yes.”

“He wanted me to let you know that he’s got a Zoom meeting at six tonight, so he will be home late.”

I roll my eyes. “Can you put me through to him, please?”

“He’s in a board meeting now that will be running late into the afternoon. I can get him to call you between that and his Zoom, if you like?”

“No, that’s fine.” I exhale heavily. “Okay, thanks for letting me know.”

“He also asked me to remind you that you have that meeting with Zoe this afternoon at two p.m.”

“How could I forget?” I mutter dryly.

She laughs. “I don’t envy you, that’s for sure.”

“Ugh, Elouise. How did I agree to this?”

“You’ll love it. Zoe has been Christopher’s personal shopper for many years; you’re in safe hands. And don’t forget you have that charity ball on Friday night.”

Ugh . . . don’t remind me.

“He’s trying to help,” she adds.

“Help me what? Go insane . . .”

“Buy up big, I say.” She laughs. “Spend it all.”

I chuckle. I do like Elouise. “Thank you.”

“And Hayden . . .”

“Yes.”

“Please call me if you need anything.”

“I will.” I smile. Christopher has Elouise on babysitting-Hayden duties. I swear the poor girl checks in with me twice a day.

“Have a good day.”

“Bye.”

I glance at my watch. An hour until I have to meet Zoe. I look around . . . I wonder where a bar is. I need wine for this shopping trip.

I sit in the bar along the window seat as I sip my wine. I’ve called my mom and Eddie, and I meet Zoe in half an hour.

I don’t know what’s going on with me, but time seems to have stopped in this city. I swear the days drag on forever.

“We’ve got her. There she is,” I hear someone yell from out on the street. “Miss Whitmore.”

Huh?

I glance up to see a flash, then another and another.

Almost blinding.

A large group of people clambers around as they take photos of me through the window. I duck and cover my face.

What the hell is going on?