The Boss's Love Page 21

  His lips twitched. Courtney would know how her husband rolled.

  "Darren had no better security than you and Carl. But now I expect you to watch over Derrick for me." She looked past him to Derrick, whose dangerous gaze cut right through him. She looked back to him. "He's important to me. I need him for me and for my baby, Jack."

  "I give you my word, Courtney," Jack vowed.

  Courtney

  "Food started to arrive at six-thirty this morning," Carl said. "We have it all marked. The items here are from the families we know and their staff who brought it over. The rest we tossed."

  "Courtney, you're not to eat any of this," Derrick demanded.

  "But‒"

  "I'll make you something," he interrupted, not to be argued with.

  "Okay," Courtney relented, not willing to disagree. Unlike Darren, Derrick could be agreeable, but when he felt strongly about something there was no bend in him. It was a losing battle. If she wanted to maintain her sanity she needed to learn to adjust.

  Derrick pulled out some eggs. "I'm going to scramble eggs and make toast. I'm not nearly as good as a cook as Darren," he said, cracking eggs in a bowl.

  Quietly the guys left the kitchen. Unlike Darren, Derrick never had been welcoming when it came to the men hanging around as onlookers into his and Courtney's interactions.

  "I'll hire a housekeeper who can also cook. I know Darren loved to play chef, but I want you to worry about taking care of yourself and not thinking about making a meal."

  She found herself caught up in his demanding demeanor. His hard tone. His inner strength that oozed from every pour despite the fact he lost his brother. His voice soothed her, mesmerized her. That deep rasp combined with confidence and darkness. She could listen to him speak all day. She almost forgot how much she enjoyed talking to him.

  Derrick turned towards her. "Court?"

  She blinked out of her daze. "Sorry."

  "Are you all right?"

  "Yeah, I just got lost in your voice," she admitted. She turned away and focused on the wooded area outback.

  When he didn't respond, she knew she'd thrown him off. "Sorry. Your voice is soothing."

  Derrick stepped into her line of focus. "Don't apologize to me, Court. There's no reason. Ever."

  Nodding, she focused on the floor. Should she feel guilty for Derrick's voice calming her? Should she feel guilty for the fact she leaned on him for support and listened to his orders? Should she feel guilty for climbing into bed with him last night because she needed his comfort? She couldn't begin to process the answers to those questions.

  ***

  After breakfast Courtney showered then dressed in a long-sleeved, form-fitting tee shirt and a long flowing, maternity skirt.

  When she finished dressing, she went back downstairs and found the living room full at ten in the morning. Darren's mother was beside her and handed Courtney a cup of decaf green tea then ushered her to the sofa to sit.

  "Where's Derrick?" Courtney took a sip of her tea.

  "Derrick, Diane, Jack, and Mr. Murphy went to the funeral home, honey, to make the arrangements for Darren," Mrs. Murphy answered.

  "What?" Courtney jumped up. "I should be there."

  "They didn't want you to become upset. They want to keep you calm. Derrick was afraid this would be too much for you," Mrs. Murphy explained. She stood with Courtney and ran a soothing hand up and down her back.

  She wheeled away from her mother-in-law and rushed to the kitchen. She slammed down her ceramic mug and picked up the house phone to dial Derrick. The call went straight to voicemail. "Damn it!"

  Furious, she spun to find she wasn't alone. A few of Derrick's men stood, stunned watching her. She eyed Carl. "Carl, take me to the funeral home now."

  She grabbed her purse off the island.

  "But, Mrs. Murphy‒"

  Courtney whipped around, her eyes blazed with anger. A look so deadly that it caused the intelligent men to take a step back. She took a menacing step his direction. Nothing like a pissed off pregnant woman to get a group of grown mobsters backtracking with their tails between their legs. "Do not question me, Carl. Just fucking take me to the funeral home. I'll deal with Derrick when I get there," she growled.

  "Yes, ma'am," Carl answered meekly.

  ***

  As soon as Carl pulled in front of the funeral home Courtney jumped from the SUV and stormed into the building. She searched for her in-laws until she found them standing in front of several casket displays. All of their backs faced her.

  "May I help you?" the funeral director asked.

  The family automatically turned to see who the director addressed. Derrick blanched.

  "I would like to talk to my in-laws alone for a moment if you don't mind,” Courtney snarled. "We'll just be a minute."

  Derrick nodded to the funeral director, granting her permission to leave.

  "I'll be in the office when you're ready," she politely said, then scurried away.

  "Court‒"

  She held up her hand. "What the hell, Derrick? You decide to make the funeral arrangements without me?"

  "Honey, I didn't want you to become upset‒"

  "Too late, and don't call me honey!" Courtney yelled, then started to pace. "Darren is my husband. I should be making the arrangements. Not you," she spat and pegged him. "He's my responsibility, not yours." Closing her eyes, she took a deep, calming breath. When she opened her eyes, she looked straight at him and lowered her voice, "Don't take this away from me. Darren spent years taking care of me. This is the very least I owe him...to plan his burial and make sure everything is worthy of him. Can't you see that?"

  Diane burst into wrenching sobs. Mr. Murphy wrapped her into his arms. Derrick stood mute, studying her, as if searching for an answer.

  "Are you certain?" he finally asked.

  Her vision blurred with tears. "I must do this, Derrick. He's my husband."

  He stepped up to her and kissed her forehead. "All right. I apologize for overstepping my bounds. Why don't you go ahead and speak with the funeral director about what we decided. If you want to change everything, go ahead. We'll wait for you out here."

  Though he seemingly placated her, she didn't miss the fact Derrick gave directions for her follow. She nodded and almost asked him to stay by her side, but after her tantrum, she boxed herself in.

  She spent twenty minutes going over the arrangements with the director. After they finished, Courtney sat silent in the seat, unable to move.

  "Mrs. Murphy?" the female funeral director asked. "Are you all right? Should I get Mr. Murphy?"

  Courtney stared at the woman. "Can I see him?"

  Without hesitation, the woman shook her head. "Mrs. Murphy, that's impossible. I'm sure you understand why."

  Hanging her head, the tears overflowed and fell to her lap. "I hoped there was some way I could see him again and say goodbye," she whispered.

  She stood and left the office. She found Derrick waiting in the hallway outside the door. She went right to him and sobbed into his firm chest. His brawny arms wrapped around her. He kissed the top of her head without a word spoken.

  Chapter 21

  Courtney

  Makeup complete, perfectly coifed hair, a beautiful black, floor length maternity dress, Courtney sat motionless at the bedroom vanity. Diamond stud earrings and matching necklace Darren had bought for her last Christmas twinkled in her ears. She stared off into space with her heart literally painful in her chest.

  Downstairs her home buzzed with her security getting ready to escort her to the funeral home. How was she going to make it through the day? Yesterday had been hell. Hundreds of people came to the viewing to pay their respects. A line wound around the block of the building. She'd stood by her husband's closed casket the entire time, refusing to leave his side. Derrick had stayed close and made sure she at least drank water to keep hydrated.

  But today was her final goodbye. The day that signified a permanent farewell to him. Her h
and automatically went to her pregnant belly. At least he left her with the baby to be tied to him.

  Eyeing Darren's scattered clothes about the bedroom, he continued to surround Courtney. Their room reeked of his masculine scent. His dress shoes sat inside the bedroom door, as if waiting for him to return. His shaving cream and razor were still in place on the bathroom sink from the morning of his death.

  A soft knock on the bedroom door interrupted her wandering mind.

  "Court, honey, it's time to go," Derrick said.

  He approached, helped her off the stool and into her matching jacket. He held her hand as she stepped into her designer heels. He then slowly led her down the steps where Ryan and Sean waited. They both looked striking in their black suits.

  Sean engulfed his cousin into his arms and held her while Ryan fetched her purse. She remained silent. After a few minutes, her staff escorted her out to a caravan of cars that waited to take their boss's wife to her husband's final resting place and bid him goodbye.

  ***

  Alone next to Darren's casket at the cemetery, Courtney relived the beautiful, heart-wrenching service. She felt it had captured her love for Darren. For the past couple of hours, not able to bring herself to leave him, she sat on a fold-up chair talking to him. She wanted to say goodbye without anyone present so she could say whatever she wanted in private. Of course Darren's men, who dutifully kept guard over her, surrounded the area. No one was granted access into the cemetery while she remained. Derrick stood at the SUV with Jack and Carl, as well as Sean and Ryan who decided to stay. Everyone else had gone to Murphy's where a wake was held in Darren's honor.

  "I miss you," Courtney said. A slight breeze moved wisps of her hair across her features. A chill sent shivers down her spine. "I don't know what to do," she shamefully admitted. "I'm afraid. You've taken care of me for so long. I'm afraid that I'll hurt the baby before he's born. I'm afraid the baby will look like you, and it will destroy me over and over everyday. That's terrible to say, isn't it?" she asked, then sighed. "I don't know what to do, Darren."

  Nonstop tears dropped down her face and onto her black jacket. Again, she shuttered from the cool breeze. Her jacket no longer protected her from the cool air. The dark sky threatened rain.

  "Courtney, honey, let me take you home. You're getting too cold," Derrick said from behind her. He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. She never heard him approach. "I don't want you to become ill."

  "Okay, just one more minute to say goodbye," she pleaded.

  "All right," Derrick relented. He stepped around her and placed a hand on the casket. "I'll keep my promise. I will love her as relentlessly as you did," he whispered, hung his head, then walked away and gave Courtney her final minute with her husband.

  She stood on wobbly legs, leaned over and kissed the casket. "I love you, Darren Murphy. I'll always love you. Thank you for everything you've given me. I'll try. I'll desperately try for you, for our baby, and for Derrick."

  She placed a gentle hand on the casket, the closest she'd ever come to physical contact with him again. She then turned and walked away and finally broke. He was gone, and he took her heart with him. Hysterical sobs wrenched through. Somehow she found her way into Derrick's arms. He cocooned his body around her, protecting her from the outside world. He led Courtney towards the waiting caravan of cars to return her home. A widow.

  Chapter 22

  Courtney

  Two weeks after Courtney had buried her husband, she'd trudged through routines of daily life. Her home felt empty and cold without Darren’s vibrant presence. Everything was different. She loathed it.

  Climbing out of bed, she showered, put on a touch of makeup, and styled her hair. When finished, she went downstairs. At the bottom of the steps, she stopped at the sight of a group of older women seated in her living room. They glanced up at her arrival. All of them scrambled towards her and gushed. Two women spoke rapid Spanish and a couple Italian women ordered her to get off her feet. Those two took it upon themselves to dote, guiding her in the direction of the oversized plush chairs in the living room.

  Derrick strolled into the hallway and chuckled.

  “Courtney, how are you feeling this morning?” he asked. Looking dangerous in his designer navy blue suit, he sauntered up to her.

  “Um…a bit overwhelmed.”

  “I'm interviewing maids and cooks today, sweetheart,” he explained. He led her away from the women, but not before spouting off orders in perfect Spanish and Italian.

  Why wasn't she aware he was fluent in different languages?

  “Are you hungry?” he asked, settling her at the island.

  Carl and Jack studied paperwork scattered about the table for two.

  “Yes,” she answered.

  He grinned. It was the first time since Darren had died that she felt famished. She watched Derrick scramble some eggs and plate them with wheat toast. He poured her a large glass of orange juice.

  “Thank you,” she said with a mouth full of eggs.

  Derrick chuckled. “So, what do you think?” he asked her.

  “About?”

  “The women. A cook and a maid,” he said.

  “Isn’t maid politically incorrect?” she teased.

  He huffed, but smirked and took a sip of his coffee. Jack and Carl snickered behind them.

  “I suppose.” He shrugged.

  “Well, since I’m not that great of a cook, and neither are you,” she teased again and innocently batted her long eyelashes, “if we ever want to eat anything other than take out or restaurant food then we should look into it,” Courtney conceded. “Is it safe bringing a strange woman into the house right now?”

  “That's why we're vetting them closely,” Derrick assured her. “You don’t need to worry about a thing. By the time the background checks come in, and Jack and Carl have done their work, there won’t be anything we don’t know about these women.”

  She nodded.

  “And how about the cleaning personnel?” He tried to correct his terminology. Which made her laugh aloud. His smile broadened. His devastatingly handsome features prominent.

  “I hate cleaning,” she mused.

  “It’s settled then,” he said with finality as if he just negotiated a business deal. He pushed his cup of coffee to the side and leaned on the island. “I do want to speak to you about delivering the baby and afterwards.”

  That halted her, fork full of food in mid air. It wasn't a discussion she currently wanted to have. She'd felt a bit normal when she woke and didn't want to think. Too late. Tears formed in her eyes. Why the hell did everything have to be so hard?

  “Don’t cry, sweetheart,” Derrick soothed, stepping around the island and sitting beside to her. He pulled her against his side and wrapped an arm around her waist. “Sean, Ryan, and I have discussed it and we think it’s best if you deliver here at home. We're concerned about you and the baby’s safety. Your cousins are finding equipment to set up in one of the bedrooms to turn into a delivery room. They're taking care of everything.”

  “Will that be safe?” Courtney asked, frightened that something might go wrong.

  “Yes, your pregnancy is doing well. Sean and Ryan said everything would be fine,” he answered. His strong, confident tone reassured her.

  “Okay,” she said. “If you think that's the way we should go.”

  He smiled, his eyes shining down upon her. “It is.” A sharp nod. “Now, there is the matter of a nanny.”

  “No,” she bit out.

  “But‒"

  “No, I'm not bringing a stranger into my home to raise my baby,” she hissed, jumped off the stool to march out of the room. She stopped, wheeled around, and pegged him with her forefinger. “Unless you mean a six foot three, twenty-five year old strapping man who's willing to play the male nanny,” she sneered and stormed out.

  “Damn it!” She heard him slam his fist off the slate. God, she could be difficult when she wanted. Darren had the duty of handling h
er but now that role belonged to Derrick. She would keep him on his damn toes.

  Her first instinct was to flee and clear her mind with a brisk walk. But that would be a wasted effort. Derrick's men surrounded her home. She wouldn't make it two feet out the door before her ass was dragged back inside. Instead, she stomped up the stairs like a three year old and slammed the bedroom door shut and locked him out. Nothing like a woman in her thirties throwing a tantrum. Fucking Hormones. Her emotional grid was off the charts.

  A soft knock on the bedroom door interrupted her hardcore pout.

  “Court, honey, please open the door,” Derrick said placidly.

  His utter perfect composure grated her. Reluctantly, she opened the door.

  “May I?” he asked, motioning to the bedroom.

  He didn't need to ask, though she appreciated his respect.

  Stepping past her, Derrick took her hand into his and led her to the bed. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder, pulled her head to his, and gave her a small peck on the cheek.

  “I understand, Derrick,” she admitted before he explained his reasons for hiring a nanny.

  “You do?” he asked.

  “Yes, you need me to attend functions with you. Finding a babysitter isn’t viable in our position. We need someone full time on staff we can trust,” she said.

  “Exactly,” he said. “Which brings me to the next discussion. We need to get married. Today,” he said.

  She distinctly inhaled. "I thought you had changed your mind,” she admitted.

  “Are you serious?” he asked, pulling away to look at her.

  She nodded again.

  “Courtney Murphy, I cannot believe you don’t know me well enough by now to know that once my mind is made up, that’s it. Done,” he said determined.

  “I know it's not the conventional way to obtain a wife and maybe I’m too difficult for you to handle now that Darren’s gone,” she said shamefully. “You aren’t the one who signed up for this‒”