CHAPTER 11
“So . . .” The single word hung heavily in the air as Senator Greenwood left the sentence unfinished.
Zane stilled, his drink half way to his mouth. He lowered the glass and said, “Sir?”
The older man drew in a breath, his lips pressed into a tight line. “I know you love my daughter.”
“Yes, sir.” Zane nodded. “I do. Very much.”
“Then what is it? I don't understand what's standing in your way.”
Zane didn't need to ask what the man was talking about. He knew. Lifting one shoulder, he said, “I'm stubborn.”
Not to mention a selfish son of a bitch. Obviously, because if Missy was so unhappy with the current status of their relationship that her father had noticed, things were worse than he'd thought.
The senator's brow creased with a frown. “I'm not sure I understand your motivation. Who are you spiting but yourself and Melissa?”
“My father. He's wanted me to marry Missy for years. Before I even started dating her in fact. His motivations have nothing to do with love. Well, that's not totally true. I believe they stem from his love of power and influence. To be blunt, a wealthy senator in the family would be quite a coup.”
Missy’s father shook his head. “You're not a teenager anymore, son. Acting out. Doing the opposite of what your father wants to assert your independence. You're a grown man. A successful one in your own right, in more than one field. You excelled in the military. The company you built is successful. That’s enough. It's time you considered the impact your decisions have upon someone other than your father.”
“Such as Missy.”
“Such as yourself, Zane. You're sacrificing your own happiness to spite your father. And yes, my daughter’s, as well. She loves you and she's hurting.”
“We've discussed the situation. I thought we were on the same page as far as marriage is concerned.”
For the first time in his life he was completely in love and one hundred percent happy with being monogamous. And still he was hurting the woman he loved? Or at least he was as far as her father was concerned.
He tried to reassure the man. “Missy’s the only one I want to be with for the rest of my life. She knows that and she agreed that we didn't need the ceremony and the rubber stamp on the license.”
The older man cocked up one snowy brow. “You believe that?”
“I used to.” Zane drew in a breath and raised his gaze to the senator. “Lately, I'm not so sure.”
The older man nodded but there wasn't a chance for either of them to say anything more because Missy and her mother came through the door.
After putting his drink down on the table, he moved to meet her where she stood. Cupping her face in both hands, he pressed a short but meaningful kiss to her lips.
“Zane. My parents are here.” With her eyes wide and her cheeks pink, she looked every bit the daughter who'd just been kissed—really kissed—in front of her parents.
He smiled. “I don't care. I love you.”
“I love you too but jeez.” She cringed.
Laughing, he decided to give her a break. “All right. I'll behave.”
“Thank you.” She glanced across the room to where her mother had joined her father. “And what brought that on anyway?” she asked in a low voice.
He lifted one shoulder. “Can't a man kiss his woman?”
“Yes.” The color in her cheeks deepened.
God, how he loved he could affect her like this. So easily too.
Now if only he could read her mind—and her heart—as easily.
What did she want? Was their love and commitment really not enough? Did she need them married? Or did she just want to be married because her cousin had just gotten engaged and it seemed everyone else they knew was tying the knot and asking them when they would do the same?
He didn't know. And he didn't think he'd ever gotten a completely honest answer from her when he asked. Not that she was dishonest, but she was the type of woman who would be content making him happy, even if it made her miserable.
Zane drew in a breath.
He could read strangers. Know when they were lying to him. Even when they were lying to themselves and believed their own lies. Yet when it came to the woman closest to him, the woman he loved, he was in the dark. Making assumptions. Trying to read the clues. Read between the lines when she told him she was fine. That they were fine.
His cell vibrating in his pocket ended his inner debate. He pulled it out and saw Will's name on the display. “Shit. I've gotta—”
“Go.” Missy waved away his concern with one hand. “I'm going to get a drink and see what's for dinner.”
“Sounds good. Thanks.” He hit the screen and made his way out into the hallway. “Will. What have you got?”
“How do you know I have anything for you?” Will asked.
“Um, well first you're the computer god and there’s no way you came up empty-handed and second, you wouldn't call me until you found something.”
“True on both counts. Okay, here's the deal . . . I just don't know. That’s why I took so long getting back to you.”
“You don't know?” Zane lifted his eyebrows at that uncharacteristic answer from a man who might joke around a lot but was always no nonsense when it came to work.
Although Zane could respect a man who could admit he didn't know something, it wasn't what he’d expected or wanted from Will Weber, the famed computer god and go-to answer guy for the Naval Special Warfare Department.
“What do you mean, you don't know?” Zane asked.
“Here's the deal. I found him—and he is indeed a male—Paul James Neuman. I know where he's sitting right now—a little privately owned coffee shop near Berkley. In fact, I even know what frigging website he's browsing at this very moment—Tinder.”
“Jesus,” Zane blew out the word beneath his breath.
How many laws had Will broken to get that level of information on this guy? He didn't dare ask. Call him paranoid, but the less said that could be overheard the better. And the less he knew the greater his level of plausible deniability if the shit hit the fan.
“Relax. I know what you're thinking. I'm on my personal equipment at home, not on base. And if the guy is dumb enough to use a open public WiFi signal he deserves to be surveilled. But that's the thing. He doesn't seem to have home WiFi. He's always on open public WiFi and that sets off my warning bells.”
“Maybe he doesn't want to pay for it.” Zane thought that would be typical of the younger generation and their cord cutting habit. No cable television. No home internet.
“Maybe,” Will agreed. “But if he can't afford internet I'm not sure your buddy will want his heiress cousin dating him. And then there's the possibility he's hardwired and behind a firewall at home like I am, possibly using a VPN to mask the location and that's why I can't find him. But that's not what most people do. You know?”
“Yeah.”
“There are other things too. Like his posts. He's too damn perfect. Always happy. Always nice. Never a complaint. No pictures of him but lots of his supposed house and vacations. But there’s never a bad photo. Even his frigging dog looks perfect. It’s like the pictures all came from a professional photographer’s website somewhere.”
“You’re saying he’s too good to be true. Or be real.”
“Exactly. I don't know, Zane. I've got nothing concrete but my gut instinct is shouting at me. I wanted hard evidence and all I’ve got is a feeling.”
Will's instincts were good enough for him. Zane had spent too many years in the SEALs depending on instinct to save his skin to start doubting it now.
During the call he had wandered up the stairs. Zane found himself in Missy's bedroom. “Can you give me what you've got as far as hard information so I can pass it on to my friend?”
“Sure thing.”
He headed for the desk. Missy was the kind of woman who still hand wrote letters and thank you notes, so he knew her desk had always been well stocked. Lucky for him, she hadn't completely cleared it out when she'd moved to the apartment.
Zane cradled the cell on one shoulder and pulled a pad of paper and pen toward him, taking notes on what Will relayed before saying thank you and disconnecting the call.
As he pocketed the cell and the piece of paper, Zane glanced around him.
There was an awful lot of stuff left in this room.
What did that mean? Was the apartment really too small, like she joked? Or—and this was not a comforting thought—was she only partially committed to their living together?
Did she have one foot out the door and half her stuff still at her parents' house just in case?
Christ. He needed to reevaluate everything he'd ever thought about this relationship. He was starting to see his assumptions might be way off. But right now he needed to get back downstairs.
Zane turned to leave when he spotted the book on the dresser. He sidestepped the door and moved to take a closer look.
The book cover had a title painstakingly applied in glitter paint in elaborate but childish script. He read the words.
My Wedding by Melissa Greenwood
Zane opened the cover and flipped through the first few pages.
Rose petals, pressed flat and dry, adorned a page with a picture of Missy dressed as a flower girl. The embossed cocktail napkin displayed the names and date of Coreene's wedding.
He'd been there. He'd hated that his parents had forced him to go but he remembered Missy was completely into being a part of the wedding party.
Flipping further he saw lists and notes. Ideas. Swatches. Pictures. Magazine pages.
The book spanned at least a decade, from the flower girl picture to the final entry, a pressed corsage and picture that had to be from Missy's prom.
Zane let out a soft curse.
He'd been so wrong. So selfish. So stupid. Missy had been planning her dream wedding since she was a child. And as far as he knew, she hadn't stopped dreaming of it until he crushed those dreams with his own spiteful selfish feelings.
He needed to get back before he was missed, but he’d be going downstairs a changed man.
After getting that glimpse into Missy’s past, he viewed the situation in a completely different light. For the first time, he felt as if he was seeing clearly.
Those glitter paint letters and lists in pastel marker had been the slap in the face he'd needed to wake him up and make him come to his senses.
He knew what he needed to do. More amazing than that was the knowledge that he really wanted to do it.
Now that he was aware of the situation, he wouldn't rest until he'd fixed everything.