Chapter Seventeen
Derek thanked the airline attendant and traded his suitcase for his boarding pass, then checked the bank of screens overhead for his flight number. Delayed. It figured. He wanted nothing more than to see Miami disappearing below the wing of the plane, and JetBlue was conspiring to keep him here as long as possible.
He followed the overhead signs to his gate. His steps were steady, but his mind was painfully off-balance, his thoughts ping-ponging everywhere. Stephanie’s face when he’d given her the ring. The way she’d nearly wilted when she’d tried to give it back. Her passion-glazed eyes, when he’d asked her to stay—and the fury in her voice when she realized he’d gone behind her back.
Would she ever stop haunting him?
He wanted to forget her. The good and the bad—all of it. Every single memory. For a short time, she had shown him how good his life could be, which only made it harder to accept that he could never have her in it.
At least he was finally going home. Back to his old life. Back to work—and a company that didn’t need him as much as he thought it did. His VP had emailed this morning. The merger had gone off without a hitch, even without Derek there to control every tiny detail. He’d hired good people. It was probably time to step back and let them do their jobs. His role as CEO was to support and guide them, not control them…and maybe if he wasn’t so busy micromanaging, he could find more worthwhile ways to spend his time than making money. There was no point having it if he didn’t use it for something that mattered—and there were so many people who needed help.
It was too bad he’d had to lose Stephanie to learn that.
At his gate, he found an empty seat and dropped his carry-on bag on the chair at his side. From here he had a clear view of the tarmac. The bright, sunny afternoon had turned into a gray, overcast evening. Exactly the kind of night where Stephanie would forget her umbrella. He smiled to himself and bowed his head ruefully. He’d probably think of her every time it rained. That memory, he thought, he’d never be able to let go.
A pair of black leather shoes stopped directly in front of him. “Ready to leave already?”
“I suppose.” He raised his head. Aaron stood before him, watching him closely. Too closely. “What are you doing here?”
“Came to see you off,” Aaron said a little too glibly. “You all right?”
Derek shrugged. “I’m fine.”
“Did you talk to Stephanie again?”
Derek looked at him, but didn’t say a word. He wouldn’t talk about her with her brother. Not now. Not ever. Aaron had been pestering him for details all week, but Derek hadn’t said a word. That wasn’t going to change now, just because it was over.
“Sensitive subject?” Aaron pushed his carry-on aside and claimed the seat at his side. “Forget I asked.”
Derek rubbed his temples. Even talking to Aaron reminded him of her. And it hurt. “I have to board the plane.”
“Really? Have you checked the departure schedule recently?” Aaron cleared his throat. “But if you have to go, first—I have a friend who’s looking for an investor. They need help. They’re ready and willing to work with you. Nice change of pace, I’d say.”
Derek gritted his teeth and stood. “Plane. Now.”
“Wait.” Aaron looked over his shoulder and gestured to someone. “It’s a greenfield project, starting from scratch. No business politics or lies. A clean operation.”
“Not. Interested.”
He stepped around Aaron. He needed to get away now—but Aaron slid into his path.
“Sorry. Can’t let you leave just yet.”
“Move, Aaron.”
“No.”
“What kind of game are you playing?” Derek growled.
“No games,” Stephanie said. “Not this time.”
Derek closed his eyes. She was here. Right here, standing behind him, so close he could smell her. So close he could touch her—yet he couldn’t move. He had to force himself to turn. Force himself to face the woman he loved, staring at her like he was looking down the barrel of a loaded gun.
Her eyes were wet with tears, her hair was sticking up, and she looked like she hadn’t slept in years. She held a crumpled, battered piece of paper clutched in her fist as if she’d die without it. She was still in her cutoffs and tank top, her clothing disarrayed, her makeup a mess.
She’d never looked more beautiful.
“Stephanie?”
“I had to talk to you,” she said.
“I’m listening.” Yet he didn’t dare to hope, even when she looked up at him with her heart burning in her eyes.
“You are one of the kindest men I have ever met.” She took a deep breath. “You went out of your way to help me, even though I fought you at every turn. Even when I screamed at you.” She stepped closer and rested her hand over his heart. “I couldn’t let you go without…without thanking you for that.”
He forced a smile. It made his face feel like rubber. She’d come to thank him. Of course. “You’re welcome.” He withdrew his ticket from his pocket, his knuckles white against his skin. “If you’ll excuse me, I have a plane to catch.”
“…right.” She licked her lips, then shot Aaron a fierce look. “You can stop hovering now.”
“And miss the show?”
“Get. Out.”
Aaron just shrugged and walked away with a two-fingered wave. Stephanie made a huffy sound and stuffed the piece of paper into her pocket. Derek sighed.
“I have to go now.”
“No, you don’t. Your plane isn’t going anywhere. I made sure of that.”
His eyes narrowed. “What did you do?”
“Whatever I had to, to make sure I wouldn’t miss you.” She took a deep breath. “Derek, I…”
He fought back his frustration. “You’ve thanked me. You’re welcome. You don’t need to say anything else, Stephanie. I understand.”
“You really don’t.”
She licked her lips, stretched up on her toes, and pressed her lips to his. Her slender arms slid around his neck. Desire flared instantly, but he made himself step back. He gently disentangled her arms from around his neck; he meant to let her go, but his fingers tightened involuntarily around her wrists, caressing the soft skin.
She swallowed hard and looked up at him. “Derek?”
“You don’t need to do this.” He forced himself to meet her eyes. Forced himself to keep his voice steady. “I appreciate the thanks, but you don’t need to pretend anymore.”
She stiffened. “I’m not pretending.”
“Then what do you want from me? I was under the impression that we were done. You said so quite emphatically.”
She flinched. “I know.”
He couldn’t do this anymore. Couldn’t drag out the inevitable. “I don’t think there’s anything else to say here.”
“I was wrong.”
“Which time?”
“I shouldn’t have refused your help.” She sighed. “I should have seen that everything you did was because you cared. Not because you didn’t have faith in me. I shouldn’t have been so stubborn. I shouldn’t have pushed you away—and I can’t let you leave now.”
“I have faith in you.” His grip on her wrists tightened, drawing her closer. “I wanted to be your partner. I wanted to be the one you came to for help when you were stuck. When you refused to let me help, I did it anyway. I hoped you would forgive me. I hoped I could make you see how I felt. I just…couldn’t stand there and watch you fall, when I had the ability to catch you.”
She ducked her head. “I know that now.”
“Stephanie.” He tipped her chin up so he could look into her eyes. “Do you understand what I’ve been trying to show you?”
“I think so.” Her lips trembled. “You love me.”
Hearing her say it unknotted something deep inside his chest. The words were like a scream inside him, aching to get out, desperate to escape the cage where he’d trapped them from the moment she’d looked into his eyes and laughed. “Yes. I love you. Even if you don’t feel—”
“I have a proposal for you,” she blurted out.
He blinked. “A proposal?”
She nodded and pulled the crumpled paper from her pocket. The card. The card he’d given her with the dress. As she offered it, her engagement ring sparkled in the cold fluorescent lights. She’d put it back on. His heart twisted.
“I know it’s not fancy,” she said with a shaky laugh, “but I’m currently homeless and didn’t have access to a printer.”
He took the card, flipped past his handwritten note, and turned it over. On the back, she’d written:
I’d like to ask you to be my partner. It’s a new project. A special one that will require us to work together, fifty/fifty. D.C. or Miami or the moon, it doesn’t matter. I don’t care where we are, as long as I’m with you. I can’t make this project work without a partner. I need your help. I need you.
I love you.
P.S. If you don’t agree, I’ll follow you to the ends of the earth. And throw tortilla chips at your head. My grandmother lived to be a hundred and one.
P.P.S. I still want my Batman wedding.
Derek closed his eyes. Heated emotion flowed through him without hesitation, without doubt, without hindrance.
She loved him.
He opened his eyes and drank in every detail. Her eyes. Her tears. The way she nibbled at her lower lip as she waited.
“Can you forgive me?” she asked.
“Only if you forgive me.” He gathered her into his arms—where she belonged. “I owe you so much, Stephanie. You made me realize the kind of man I want to be.”
“You’re already a man I admire.” She buried her face in his chest. “Please say yes,” she whispered. “Please. I know we can do this. Together, we can do anything.”
“Yes,” he said, and drew her up to claim what he’d been missing.
He kissed her until he could taste only her, picked her up until their bodies fit together so perfectly, so beautifully. She loved him. She loved him…and she was his.
She broke back for breath, gasping, her eyes glittering. “Don’t look now, but we’re being watched by the Feds.”
He glanced over his shoulder. Aaron was watching them with a terribly smug smile. “Did he really hold up my flight? Is that even legal?”
“Probably not,” she said. “I wouldn’t worry about that. The things I’m about to do to you are illegal in the continental forty-eight. C’mere.”
She pulled him down and kissed him again—deeply, hotly, with the promise of a boundless passion that would never be sated. He gave himself over to her. People were staring. Anyone could be watching. Aaron. His business associates. His father. He didn’t care. He was his own man, and that man belonged to Stephanie Miller—now, and always. No more lies. No more masks.
He loved her, and he wasn’t faking it anymore.