Chapter Sixteen
Never in his life had his office felt more like a fucking fish bowl. People kept walking by, peeking in as if they were waiting for whatever it was he had planned. He’d bought fucking balloons. They were hanging in a net on the ceiling, and the musicians were on standby in the break room.
His stomach twisted into a knot for the thousandth time that morning. No wonder she’d been so disgusted with him.
You’re a fucking asshole.
Yep. No arguments there.
He glanced out to the showroom.
She wasn’t coming.
Her mother had said she would stop by to sign the final paperwork on the amended contract he’d created freeing her from their two-year agreement. She’d refused to talk to him, so he’d gone through her mother. Once she realized she was free, she’d probably want a divorce.
Acid burned the back of his throat. He had to change her mind.
He’d made up some lame excuse to get her here. Well, it wasn’t lame. He wanted to show her how much she meant to him. Show her that what they’d had was real and he was a fucking idiot for thinking she could be anything other than the perfect, beautiful woman she was.
She hates you. He didn’t blame her, but it still hurt. Not a single text or phone call returned.
It was ten minutes past the hour.
Fuck. She wasn’t coming. She’d returned from Paris a few days ago and was leaving later that night for her rehearsals or whatever it was she had to go back to Europe for. She’d been gone for a month, and he had wanted to fly there, but his dad and her mom had said it might be best to give her some space.
He was going to have to fly to Paris and beg her to forgive him.
He had no one to blame but himself.
Idiot.
He’d gone and lost the best thing he’d ever known. The person who made him— Fuck, was that her? He nearly tripped on the leg of his desk and then forced himself to slow down. A flash of red hair passed the front counter.
It was her. He grabbed the beautifully wrapped package off his desk.
She had to forgive him.
The look on her face said differently.
Hell, she was still pissed.
But she was so fucking beautiful, dressed in a white shirt and white pants and some killer heels.
He’d heard her auditions in Europe had gone well. She’d had her pick of jobs.
“What do you want?” She stopped short a few feet in front of him. Hands on her hips, she was his fiery demon from hell, and he loved her. “I don’t have your money yet. It may take me a while. You’re just going to have to deal with it.” Her voice was low, almost a growl.
“I don’t care about the money. I want to apologize.” He said the words so softly he wasn’t sure she heard.
Her brow furrowed. “It’s a little late for that.”
Shit. “I know, but I’d like to—” He reached out a hand and waved toward the center of the showroom. Then he gave Belinda a quick nod. She gave him an I-don’t-know-what-the-hell-you’re-doing look, but she motioned for the musicians to begin playing.
Amy paused, and he touched her elbow gently to keep her moving to the center of the room. There was no backing down now. He was going for it. If he failed, well, it didn’t matter. Without her, nothing did.
“Wait. What is all this crap? There are people looking at us—at you—like you’re nuts.”
“Don’t care. I want to dance.”
“Really? Since when?”
“About five minutes after you walked out on me, I realized I was a complete and utter ass. The day after that, in the haze that was my Amy hangover, I understood there is no way I can live without you.”
“But you think I’m—what was it…a gold digger? Hard to apologize for words like that.”
“You tell him, sister.” He was pretty sure that was Belinda.
Focus.
“I fell in love with you, Amy Elizabeth Powell. It took me a little while to realize it. I will do whatever it takes for you to forgive me. I would have come after you that night, but my dad stole the keys to all my vehicles. He said you needed time. And then the next day, you’d gone and they wouldn’t tell me where. I almost had your phone tracked. Desperate, right?”
Her face was a mask. Fuck. I’m not getting through to her.
“Did I mention I’m an idiot?”
She still wasn’t smiling.
Double fuck.
Her toe tapped on the floor.
The last time her toe had done that, she’d shot him the finger and walked out of his life. He had to get through to her.
“Wait.” She pointed a finger at his chest. “Did you just say you loved me?”
“Yes. And I asked you to dance.” He held out his arm, his breath tight in his chest.
“I don’t understand.” She chewed on her lip. That was the first positive sign so far. She did that when she was mulling over something. Okay. He had to do this right.
“I know. I fucked it all up. But this is me, apologizing to the woman I love, in front of people who work for me. I’m ready to make a complete ass out of myself in front of all these people to show you I will do anything, Amy, anything to keep you in my life.”
“Even dance?”
“Even dance. I’m still sorry I didn’t do that with you at our wedding reception.”
She eyed him warily. Damn. He wished she’d at least smile.
“What’s that?” She pointed to the gift in his hand. He couldn’t help but grin. “It’s something you can have if you forgive me. And I’m willing to wait however long that might be. But I’ll be honest, I’m dying without you. Dying. And that sounds dramatic, but it isn’t. I can’t live without you in my life. However, I can be yours. And you know how hard that is for me to say. I kind of like things my way, but I’m willing to do whatever it takes to be with you.”
The corner of her mouth went up. She was trying not to smile. Or was she smirking? He couldn’t tell.
“You were really an asshole.”
“Preaching to the choir, sister.” That was Belinda again. He was going to dock her pay if she ruined this.
“What if I want the gift and decide I don’t want to forgive you?”
Shit. He hadn’t thought of that.
“I’d understand. Here.” He handed her the package. “No strings. Open it. It’s actually two gifts in one.”
She frowned again but took it from him. After pulling the envelope off the top, she handed him back the present. “I want to read the card first. That’s the polite thing people do. Not that you would know what polite is. I can’t believe you said those things to me. Or thought I would do anything to hurt you.”
He pointed to his chest. “Jerk. We’ve established that. Open the envelope.”
“Don’t tell me what to do.” He held his hands up in surrender.
Her brows furrowed deeper as she read. “Why would you do this? Why would you sign over your dealerships to me? These motorcycles mean everything to you. I don’t understand. My mom told me you did all this crazy crap—including breaking my heart—to make sure all of this was yours.”
“And if you let me, I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you.”
She shook her head.
She still didn’t get it. “None of it means shit without you. That’s what I’m trying to get you to understand. You can have anything of mine, anything. All I want is you.”
“But I don’t want your dealerships. I told you that before. I’ve never been interested in your money. I just—I had to help someone. But I’m good for it. I’ll replace it all. That’s the only reason I came today. To tell you I got the job I wanted, and I can start paying you back. I’m a principal dancer now.”
“You got the job? Wow. I’m so happy for you, Amy. I knew you could do it.” He wanted to hug her. Hell, he wanted to wrap himself around her and never let go.
She smiled, a real one this time. “Thanks. No, wait. You’re doing that thing where you distract me by being nice. And then you do something stupid.”
“I deserve that. I promise you, I will spend the rest of our lives trying to make it up to you. I meant what I said before. This is about you. It’s all about you.”
“I’m so confused. I walked in here today thinking this was the last time I was ever going to see you. I mean, it was crushing my soul. I love you so much, but I can’t stand the idea of you thinking I would do anything to hurt you, or that I was the kind of person you suspected me of being. I trusted you. I think that’s what hurt the most. Even though”—she glanced around them as if she’d forgotten they had an audience—“even though we didn’t have the most traditional relationship, I thought you had my back.”
“I did.”
“But you thought I would do something like that to you.”
He took her hand, crushing the paper in it. “I know you wouldn’t. That’s what all of this is about. I get it. You were helping your family. You’re really no different than me. We protect those we love. Only I did a fucking poor job of it with you. I should have been looking out for you. I don’t have an excuse. I shouldn’t have let what happened with my dad’s relationships color what we had, because it’s the most important relationship of my life, Amy. You are the most important person in my world.”
Then it hit him. “Did you just say you loved me?”
She shrugged, and his heart pumped faster than if he were riding a hundred miles an hour down Eagle Pass.
“Yep. But I still don’t forgive you.”
Crap.
“You can’t just jump to conclusions. If, and that’s a big if right now, we do”—she pointed back and forth between them—“whatever this is. You have to communicate. You have to talk to me. You have to trust me, too.”
“I will. Talking is not one of my strong suits. But with you, yes. I will tell you everything and always ask when I have a question. But I won’t. I trust you, Amy. More than I’ve ever trusted anyone in my life. You had my back even when I didn’t have yours. That’s not lost on me. You were taking care of me, making my house a home. But it isn’t a home without you. I need you. I love you. And if you love me, too, we can work out the rest. I promise.”
She sighed. “Fine. But I may have conditions.”
“Whoop!” He scooped her up in his arms and twirled her around, kissing her hard. She tasted of lemon and honey. His favorite flavors. “Anything. Whatever you want, baby. I promise. Anything I am or have is yours.”
The balloons fell from the ceiling. People were clapping and yelling. It was sheer mayhem. He didn’t care.
She pulled back. “You said there were two gifts. What’s the other one?”
He stepped back and handed her the box. She opened it and shoved the paper wrapping aside.
Her laugh was loud and boisterous and very un-ballerina-like.
She pulled out the gold-plated ball gag. “I’m not wearing this crap. We had this discussion.”
“Isn’t for you, babe. If I ever do anything as stupid again, you can put this on me and I’ll wear it for as long as you say.”
She snorted, and it was the cutest sound he ever heard.
Then she threw herself into his arms again and whispered, “I give it a week before you’re wearing this.”