The Billionaire Bachelor (Billionaire Bad Boys Book 1) (27 page)

M
erina didn’t wear heartbreak well. She knew because each and every person who’d seen her recently had told her she looked tired or asked if she was getting sick.

The UPS guy, the mailman. The linen delivery guy. Her mother. Her father. Arnold, who usually minded his own business, had taken to checking on her regularly. Heather had brought Merina a cup of hot tea every evening without being asked.

Merina pretty much lived in her office. The more she worked, the easier it would be to forget she was grieving. Right?

Wrong.

Lorelei had dropped off the papers to Reese’s secretary three days ago. Merina had told herself she wasn’t expecting a response, but she’d waited to hear from him. No way could he allow this to happen.

He’d remained distant and silent. Nothing had changed him. Not the moment she put her heart in his hands, or given him her body one final time. Not putting off signing the divorce papers on a marriage she was far more invested in than she should’ve been. Not finally signing them.

He was gone.

Merina accepted this horrible fact and felt every painful prick of it like a thousand needles in her skin.

Heather had shut down the bar and Merina’s parents had gone home hours ago. In her office, door cracked open, no one to witness her misery, Merina decided to feel her feels. Every last miserable one of them. An audible sob left her lips, the sound so lonely, it beckoned more sadness.

Her last period had been a relief, because the last time she and Reese slept together, neither of them had the presence of mind to use a condom. For a few terrifying days, she was sure she was pregnant. The gods had smiled on her misfortune, deciding it’d be a dick move to add a baby on top of a divorce.

So. That was good, she guessed.

She reached for a tissue and dabbed her cheeks, vowing this the last surge of emotion she’d allow to wreck her. One final torrential downpour of a cry. Which, ironically, was what it was doing outside now. The papers were signed. She’d crossed the finish line. Only a little longer and she’d soon begin to heal.

She hoped.

Merina swiped her fingers under her eyes and decided to go out to the bar for something stronger than the tepid tea on her desk. She’d been drinking too much wine lately, but she’d read an article that “situational alcoholism” was a thing.

Tonight, especially, she’d earned a glass of wine. Hell, a bottle.

Thunder rattled the walls as she slipped by the front desk, relieved to find Arnold waylaid by a late check-in. While his attention was diverted, Merina bolted around the
CLOSED
sign at the doorway of the bar.

Yes. A bottle of wine would do fine. Maybe she’d go into the banquet room and drink it in there. She grabbed an open bottle, and a wineglass. Tempting to drink it directly from the source, but she did have some sense of decorum.

She took two steps and stopped cold when a man wearing jeans, a T-shirt, and a suit jacket stepped past the
CLOSED
sign. Water dripped on the carpet with a soft
tap-tap
from his soaking clothes.

Like the first time she’d met him, his posture was straight. In a weird gender flip of that same scenario, his clothes were adhered to his skin. His typically perfect hair was in disarray on his head, water curling the ends and dripping from his forehead down the tip of his nose.

She tried to speak. Failed.

The ladder she had been mentally climbing shook, threatening her path to recovery. She imagined herself sliding down a neighboring chute instead.
No. No chutes. Only ladders.

Up, up, and a-fucking-way.

“Reese.” She squared her shoulders and called up every ounce of strength she possessed, which wasn’t a lot. But fake it till you make it, right? “I assume you received the papers. Later than you wanted them, I’m sure.”
So
not the issue, but she had to keep the facts in the forefront. “I would have had them to you sooner but I wanted the timing to be right for—”

“Cut the horseshit, Crane,” he cut in.

She’d said exactly those words to him once.

He walked to the bar and plunked a doorknob onto the surface. The same one she’d left on his desk the first time she’d met him. She stared at it, mouth dropped open.

“You forgot this,” he said.

Her heart lunged for him and she mentally restrained it. She hated him. Or was trying to.

“Celebrating?” He dipped his chin at the bottle of wine in her hand.

She told him the truth. “Coping.”

“I went with scotch. A lot of it.”

“Another popular choice.”

A damn doorknob was not a peace offering. She refused to see it as one.

“What do you want?” She held up a hand. “You know what? I don’t want to know. I’m going to allow myself to believe you came here to drop off the Van Heusen’s doorknob and be on your way.” She made a shooing motion. “Go on. Swim back to your lair.”

He didn’t leave, though. Only rested his hands on the bar. She backed up and stood behind it, so afraid if he touched her, she’d let him get away with murder.

“Merina.”

“You’re not the only one who’s broken,” she said, her voice hard. “You broke me.”

His face melted into a mask of hurt. The exact emotion she’d wanted to see the night she stood in his hotel shower. When she got dressed to leave his suite, the divorce papers in hand. Instead, he’d been stoic and cold, while inside she’d been dying. She couldn’t afford to hear his excuses and reasoning now. She had to keep climbing out of the pit, not sink back into it.

“If you’re here for closure, I’m not interested,” she said. “You might feel better after you say whatever it is you came here to say, but I’ll only feel worse.” She pointed at him with the wineglass, holding it out like a weapon to keep him from coming closer. “Finish your unfinished business on your own. Or in the company of a bottle of scotch. But…I’m not…I can’t listen while you explain why you couldn’t…”

Her words faltered as Reese closed the gap between them, one slow step at a time. He took the wine bottle and glass from her hand, and placed them on the bar.

“I’m not ready to forgive you,” she continued. Desperately. “And…and even if I was, I’m not giving you the satisfaction of—” He placed his palm on her face, brushing her bottom lip with his thumb. “What are you doing?”

He didn’t answer her, only stared down at her mouth.

“Reese?”

“You still love me. I wasn’t sure until I walked in, but I can see it.”

She shook her head. No.
No.
She couldn’t accept this. Not after an agonizing month and an even more agonizing last couple of days. She’d made the decision to kill off the part of herself that still loved him… Only it hadn’t died. She would find a way to let it go, though. She would. Because Reese didn’t fall in love and she couldn’t be in love alone.

“I don’t,” she whispered.

“Yes, you do,” he said.

She opened her mouth to argue, but he didn’t give her a chance.

“You were right. I am a chickenshit. Too terrified to try, so I thought cutting us short would be less painful. But it’s not painful, Merina. It’s worse. I haven’t felt a goddamn thing in weeks.” He rested one hand over her heart. No. Over her tattoo. “Until right now. I feel this.”

His voice cracked and she lifted her eyes to his. Dampness from his hand seeped through the material of her shirt.

She shivered, but not because she was cold.

“Do you feel this?” he asked.

She bit down on her cheek to keep from crying, her eyes sliding shut in bald surrender. She felt it. God, how she felt it.

Soft kisses brushed her closed lids, first one, then the other. His warm breath in her ear, he said, “You feel it. I know you do. I feel it.”

“You can’t…” Finally. Her voice. Thank God. For a moment she thought she’d stand here completely mute and let his words cover her like a warm blanket.

“Can’t what? Love you?” He drew back so he could conquer her soul with his navy blues. “Too late. I love you. I’ve loved you even longer than I dared admit. And you still love me, Merina.”

“I don’t.”

“It’s okay.” He smiled gently, looking handsome.

“It’s not!” she said, tears of anger, of confusion streaming down her cheeks. Because she did love him, dammit. She loved him, but she hated him for doing this. “It’s not okay.”

Weakly, she shoved his chest with her hands but he only pulled her closer.

“I missed a board meeting today. I missed a lot of meetings. A lot of work.”

She frowned.

“Laser focused on my legacy, I would have done anything to attain CEO. Like marry a woman and threaten to gut her hotel because I knew how much it meant to her. But now I have what I want, and without that woman by my side, my legacy means nothing. I was working so hard to fulfill my destiny, I failed to see that you, Merina, are a part of it. Without you, I have nothing. Without you, I am nothing.”

She simply stared.

“The day you stormed into my office with that”—he pointed at the doorknob—“you changed me. I was never the same after you. But I’m stubborn, and I’m stupid. I let myself believe letting you go was better for both of us. No matter how much it hurt me, I knew you were better off without me.”

She wanted to be.

“But you’re not, are you?” He touched her face again. “Did I really break you, Merina? Won’t you let me fix it? Fix us?”

“I’m terrified,” she admitted, her voice choked with unshed tears. “I’m so scared you’ll freak out and leave again. I can’t take it. I won’t go through this again.”

“You won’t have to.”

“I don’t know that.” She couldn’t trust that he wouldn’t shut her out all over again.

He licked his lips, nodding at his shoes. When his shoulders rose and dropped with a deep breath, she could see he understood where she was coming from.

“I need to be rebuilt,” he muttered.

“Sorry?”

“Like the Van Heusen.” He lowered onto one of the barstools and looked around the room, at the ceiling medallions, the shelves lined with bottles, the antique sconces. He put his fingers on the brass doorknob. “I was gutted before I met you. I was a shell, my foundation shaky. I’m better than the man you met the first time. Because of you, I’m better.”

She thought of Arnold’s words about his wife.
I wasn’t this man before I knew her.

But that didn’t change one indelible fact.

“I can’t fix you,” she said.

“I don’t want you to fix me,” Reese said. “I want you to stand beside me. You see beauty in this place, and you made me see it too. You see charm where there are cracks. I’m cracked in a hundred places, but the biggest one happened when I saw your ring on top of those papers.”

She told herself not to go to him but found she was drawn in by what he said. This strong, cocky, coldhearted billionaire had been softened by her. He was asking for a chance. The same man who looked at this room with disgust now held nothing but warmth in his eyes.

She reached for him, watching as her palm touched the damp scruff on his face.

“You’re a mess,” she told him.

“I’m on the mend.” His eyes looked as wet as the rest of him when he fisted her silk shirt. His sodden hold was strained, as if he wanted to pull her to him but resisted. He only waited.

“You can rise from the ashes on your own, Reese.”

His face fell. He gave her a sad nod and released her shirt. As much as it hurt, she backed away from him, and waved good-bye. This time, for real.

She heard him stand, the shift of material as he walked behind her. When she reached the doorway, he spoke.

“I found home with you.”

She turned. He stood, arms at his sides, shoulders slumped. She never thought she’d see Reese Crane look dejected.

“Home was a safe place when my mom was alive. Then she died and I never found it again. Not with dad and my brothers. Family, trust, love, yes. But not home. That place you feel safe naked.” He gave her a slight eyebrow lift. “Figuratively.”

Her lips flinched the slightest bit.

“The mansion was never more than a place to live. Once I left it behind and moved to the hotel, I forgot about needing a space where I could be me.” He dipped his chin and walked closer to her. “Until you.”

She didn’t retreat. Not this time.

“We built more than a business, Merina. We accomplished more than fooling the world. We made a house into a home. I want that with you. But this time, a safe space for both of us.”

“To be naked,” she said.

“Preferably.”

She smiled, just a small one.

“Come home with me, Merina.” He tipped her chin. “For tonight. For good.”

He bled sincerity. And her heart couldn’t deny that what he’d said was the truth.

They had built a home together.

Her life hadn’t made sense for weeks, but instantly, the fog cleared. She could see clearly. She could see him. See
them
. She wrapped her arms around his waist and felt a rush of air leave his lungs in a grateful huff as he folded her against him.

“Come back.” he said against her hair, his voice tight. “Come back and I swear I’ll spend the rest of my life making this up to you.”

She lifted her face and saw the love reflected in his eyes. Beneath the suited sewer rat, there was a man. The man she’d fallen in love with. The man she’d never recover from no matter how long he stayed away.

“Okay.”

“Okay?” His smile was cautious. Adorably unsure. He blinked back what looked like tears as her own eyes blurred with them.

He squeezed her close and she could feel how right this was, how right they were together. She knew him. She believed in him.

“Come on, Crane,” she said. “Take me home.”

R
umpled and sexy, Reese’s head rested on the pillow, his firm mouth smiling. The Chicago sun was shining, bouncing off the fresh blanket of snow in the backyard. Merina had climbed out of bed and taken the robe off the Van Heusen doorknob now hanging on the wall like a hook. She stood at the sliding doors looking out at the pool and beyond from their first-floor bedroom.

She turned and squared her fingers, framing him.

“What are you doing?” Reese propped his head on his hand.

“Hashtag love of my life,” she said.

“Get in here.” His smile widened.

She hopped to the bed, sliding into white sheets and into his warm, waiting arms.

“Let’s see it,” he said.

She lifted her left hand, turning her fingers so he could see the engagement ring he put on her finger last week. On State Street. When they met her parents there to ice skate and celebrate their very special anniversary.

“I can’t wait to marry you.” He kissed her knuckles. “Again.” He threaded their fingers together, pressing their palms flat and leveling her with a heated, sincere gaze.

She leaned in and kissed his nose.

“Thank you.” He kissed her lips.

“For?”

“For making me.” He tugged her closer as they lay side by side. “They say behind every good man is a strong woman.”

“I think the saying goes ‘Behind every good man is a woman rolling her eyes.’”

“Well, I was close.”

She held her index finger and thumb an inch apart.

He moved in to kiss her again and she interrupted with, “Oh! I forgot to tell you.”

He pulled his chin back to focus on her.

“I decided to have a team of decorators tackle that whitewashed lobby of Crane Hotel.”

“You what?”

“Bo-ring,” she sang. “When they’re done, your glass and stone shrine will be Bohemian and full of personality.”

“I don’t like personality.” His mouth turned down.

Enjoying teasing him, she rolled out of bed. “I should confirm we would like the tapestries after all.” She tapped her lips and pretended to think. “And the beaded curtains.”

“Merina, you’d better be kidding.” He threw the sheets aside and stood.

She backed across the room as she continued. “Do you think the addition of bean bag chairs in the lobby is too much?”

A hint of a smile curved the stubble around his mouth, making her grow warm and her heart leap. He knew she was kidding.

“Only if you promise to have a Tarot reader present on Saturdays. No live chickens, though, it’ll freak out the suits.” He caught her, fisting the knot in her robe and pulling her close.

“I had you going, admit it.” She laughed.

“I’ll admit nothing.”

“You’ll tell me everything, Reese Crane.” She wrapped her arms around his neck as he splayed one wide palm over her back.

“Let’s try you saying my name again.” He put his lips against hers and murmured, “Only this time louder, and with more enthusiasm.”

This time her laughter was joined by his. She kissed his smile. Her husband—er, soon-to-be husband—in her home. Their home.

She ran her fingers through his hair but when she met his gaze, she found him looking scarily serious.

“I love you, Merina Van Heusen.”

Her chest expanded as she pulled in a breath, that same breath clogging her throat.

“I love you, Reese Crane.”