The Secrets Between Us (Billionaire CEO Romance)

by Katie Mettner

  I stared at the computer screen, the document I’d been unsuccessfully working on for the last few days open with the cursor blinking at me. If I didn’t come up with this design soon, we’d lose the contract Dad had worked so hard to get. Truth be told, I didn’t care. I didn’t care about the contract because my heart wasn’t in it. My heart wasn’t in anything. My heart was still trapped in the past. It was trapped with Ange and the way I ended it with her. It was trapped with Dad and the way things ended with him. Now, by no fault of my own, it was trapped again with my sister and how things ended, or didn’t end, there. The only difference between the three was I could still fix one of them.

  I grabbed my phone and punched her number in. It rang three times in my ear before it was picked up. “Lo’,” was the answer, and it dawned on me it was late. “Something wrong, Hayes?”

  I heard the moment she came fully awake, even hundreds of miles away. “I’m fine,” I said, sighing. “Sorry to wake you. I was calling to apologize and now I have another thing to apologize for.”

  “You’re not sleeping again, I take it.”

  I sat there and rubbed my temple. She could read me like a book. “I tried, but man, it’s quiet out here.”

  “Mmm,” she said, her voice humming, “as if that’s the real problem. It’s loud at home and you don’t sleep there, either. Have you tried running?”

  “It’s one a.m. and below zero,” I answered with laughter. “What do you think?”

  “I think maybe the fresh air would help you sleep.”

  “Or kill me. Did you ever think of that, Ange? Maybe it would kill me.”

  She laughed deeply, and I wondered what lucky guy was going to end up with her. She wasn’t made for me, but she was a magnificent woman all the same. My mind wandered to another magnificent woman. She was magnificent in all the opposite ways Ange was, and that was what drew me to her. “No, but I might kill you if you call me at two a.m. again.”

  I tapped my fingers on the desk while I worked out what I wanted to say. “Sorry, I forgot it was so late. I was just thinking I owed you an apology and you know me, I’m nothing if not impulsive sometimes.”

  “Why do you owe me an apology?” she asked, clearly confused. “Did you do something I’m going to find out about in the morning? Did you punch a reporter again?”

  I laughed this time, my chest loosening a bit. “No, but that guy deserved it. Actually, I was calling to apologize to you for the way things ended between us.”

  “Old news, Hayes,” she sighed.

  “Maybe, but I still feel like I haven’t apologized for taking advantage of you during a time in my life when I should have known better.”

  “We’re both adults, Hayes. It’s not like you coerced me into dating you.”

  “No, but I did know you could never be my girlfriend, if that makes sense.”

  “You mean I wasn’t good enough to sit at the Rutherford family dinner table,” she clarified, no bitterness in her tone, just acceptance.

  “No, you’re wrong about that. My family loves you. It has nothing to do with you and everything to do with me. Our work relationship complicated matters, too. On top of that, I don’t know how to have a girlfriend, Ange.”

  “I get it, Hayes. I seriously haven’t lost any sleep over it, so maybe you should stop, too. We went on a few dates, big deal. I wasn’t deluded into thinking you’d ever take me home to the Rutherfords in a serious way.”

  “Am I that big of an asshole?” I asked, slamming the laptop lid closed.

  “Let’s just say you didn’t get where you are by being nice to everyone you meet. I’m not judging you or trying to make you feel bad. You are who you are. You can either accept it and live your life, or make changes to your code and try living your life that way, just to see what happens. Whichever way you choose to go, I’ll support you. Let me know in the morning, preferably after eight,” she said, and then there was a click and dead air.

  I lowered the phone to the desk and shook my head. Be who I am and accept it, or make changes to my code and try living that way. The first choice was the easy one, but as I’d learned over the last few years, also the lonely one. The second option would require me to think about my life in more abstract terms, and further into the future than a few days. I’d never done that before in my life, ever. Probably because I never had to before.

  A message came in on my phone and I read it. He wanted to know if I was up? I immediately typed back. Yeah, I’m up. I’ll call you.

  I got the thumbs up emoji so I hit the call button, rewarded by a voice on the other line immediately. “Why am I not surprised you’re up?” he asked as a greeting.

  “I don’t know, Caleb, apparently because I’m predictable, at least according to my assistant. Why are you up?”

  Sound carried across the line as though he was holding the phone away from his ear for me to listen. “I’m working, dumbass. Someone has to keep this place humming along when the boss takes off for a mental health break.”

  “Well, it isn’t working,” I grumped. “I’m in a worse place now than I was when I left. Anyway, what do you want?”

  “I’m saving your life here, Hayes. You’re going to want to hear what I found on Mercy when I ran her background.”

  “What? I can’t believe you ran Mercy through the system,” I said, my tone accusatory. “She has nothing to do with me or my business.”

  “I know,” he answered, “but you have a tendency to forget how much you're worth and jump into things with both feet without thinking.”

  I laughed sarcastically and with disdain. “Is that your way of saying I jump into women dick down?”

  “You said it, not me, and up until five seconds ago, me running a check on the woman who owns that camp had nothing to do with your dick. Now … it does.”

  “What are you talking about?” I asked, the late hour making it hard to follow his nonsense, but something told me I better try harder.

  “What am I talking about? I’m talking about you staying in a strange place with an unknown entity running it. You’ve never met her before and someone who hates your guts could easily have paid her off to open you up to an attack. When I call, you instantly hit me with talk about your dick. I know what that means and it’s never a good idea, Hayes.”

  “No, you’re wrong, Caleb,” I spat, sighing internally because he was actually right, I just didn’t want to admit it to myself or him. “I was implying you accuse me of wanting to sleep with everything that walks, which I don’t. I haven’t had sex in years, thank you very much.” I rested my head in my hand. “Never mind, just tell me what you found.”

  “What I found is the reason we’re having this conversation. Pack up your shit and get out of there, now.”

  “What? No, I have days left on the cabin rental and I’m not done with the designs yet.”

  I fell silent and he launched into the results of the background check. When I set the phone down, I lowered my head to the desk and banged it several times. I didn’t see that coming, like at all. It explained a lot of things, including Justice. Now, I had a decision to make. Stay and get to know Mercy, or get in the Mercedes and leave without a second glance.

  I stood, shut off the lights and the coffeemaker, and walked to the bedroom. I climbed under the covers and shut the light off before I rested my head on the pillow.

  I was tired of running.

  I was tired of being the predictable dick everyone hated but pretended to love.

  I was just plain tired.

  In the last ten years there was only one person who wasn’t afraid to tell me I was being a dick without fear of backlash or retribution. That person was asleep in cabin zero.

  Tomorrow, I was going to hit a reset on the Code of Hayes and try living my life that way for a few days. Maybe, if I opened myself up to the person I used to be before everything happened, I’d find inspiration.

  As I lay there, my mind drifting away into dreamland, the definitive truth struck m
e with total clarity. I certainly was tired. Tired of being the person I was told I had to be, instead of the person I wanted to be.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  MERCY

  Who needs sleep? That’s what I finally decided at three a.m. when I’d been trying to doze off for four hours. It wasn’t working. I hadn’t suffered from insomnia since I’d set foot on this soil. I suppose the nonstop hours of work, coupled with the fresh air, were the reasons why, but it didn’t work for me last night. I’m absolutely, positively, damn sure it had something, okay everything, to do with the sexy bearded beast in cabin four. Picturing him without a shirt on left me kicking off covers and fanning my face. For the record, it was ten below zero last night.

  It wasn’t much warmer now, but it was only six a.m. It could warm up yet. I stood and tapped my toe while I waited for the coffee to brew. I’d taped a sign to the door telling Mr. Boling I was gone for a few hours, and since he was the only one left in camp besides Mr. Yummy, I could go hunting and everyone knew of my whereabouts. I was getting low on venison, and I had two tags to fill. If I could fill both in the next few weeks, I’d be set through the summer.

  I double checked my supplies to make sure I had everything I would need if I got stuck in the woods for the night. It wasn’t likely, since I didn’t plan to hunt for the full day, but you can never discount an injury. I’d have to be careful to protect what limbs I had left from the cold. I’d already learned what happened when you didn’t, the hard way. The painful way. The life-changing way.

  There was a rap on the door of the store and I flipped around, my hand to my heart. A sexy lumberjack stood on the other side, waving like an idiot. What did he want this early in the morning? The last thing I wanted to deal with was a problem. If his cabin had an issue, I’d just transfer him to cabin six and head to the woods. I needed time away from the camp, and him, to set my mind straight.

  No men.

  No relationships.

  No entanglements.

  No future.

  Live one day and then the next.

  Don’t plan.

  Don’t ask for more than the day you got when your eyes opened.

  That was the mantra I had to repeat on a daily basis. It was why I chose to live in this remote area of North Dakota. Not participating in society on a regular basis made the mantra easier to accept and carry out.

  I walked to the door and opened it just far enough to speak to him. “You’re thirteen hours early for our seven o’clock dinner.”

  He adjusted his stocking cap and winked. “I know,” he agreed, saying nothing else.

  “Is there a problem with your cabin?” I asked, prodding him along a bit so I could get going.

  “Not at all.” He was still grinning at me with his wolf’s smile. The one that said he’d like to eat me if I’d give him half a chance.

  “Okay, well, have a nice day then,” I said, trying to close the door, but he stuck his hand in to block it.

  “I couldn’t sleep, so I thought I’d join you for a walk in the woods.”

  “A walk in the woods, eh?”

  “Stroll?” he volleyed.

  “You’ve clearly never been hunting.”

  “Not once in my life.”

  This could be fun. It would be a complete waste of a day in the woods as far as harvesting meat went, but fun nonetheless. Besides, if I made him walk in front of me, I could stare at his tight ass. A quarter would bounce ten feet off those cheeks, I was sure of it. Granted, it would defeat the purpose of getting away from him, but he was determined to go, I could tell. He’d probably follow me out there and then die of exposure. I didn’t need that on my conscience, too. That would make me a black widow squared, even if by default.

  I opened the door the rest of the way. “Okay, I’ll play tour guide for the day. Come on in.”

  He let the grin turn into a smoldering look of sex as he stepped inside and eyed my outfit. His fingers pinched the top of my tank top and he tugged on it. His hand was entirely too close to my breasts to not be touching them, I decided.

  “Do you mind keeping your hands to yourself?”

  “Yes,” he answered, still holding the shirt.

  “Yes, you mind, or yes, you will keep your hands to yourself?”

  “Yes,” he said again. “Are you going to be warm enough in this?”

  I slapped his hand away and grabbed my sweatshirt off my pile of clothes. After I tugged it over my head, I held my arm out to show him. “Ta-da.”

  His eyes shone the color of ice and his lips turned downward. “Now what did you go and do that for? I was enjoying the view.”

  “Did you bring coffee?” I asked, changing the subject. “Or would you like some of mine?”

  “Oh, I’d definitely take whatever you’re offering,” he purred, his body tight against the back of me. It was a habit of his not to respect personal space, like at all. He didn’t seem to care that I had a pot of hot coffee in front of me, either. Almost as if he knew I would never hurt him.

  “You’re very intense, do you know that? If you’re always this intimidating with women it might explain why you’re still single.”

  “You haven’t seen me intense or intimidating, beastie,” he promised, his lips near my ear. “You’ll know when I get intense and intimidating.”

  Note made.

  He took a step back and I poured the coffee into my thermos, tightened the lid, and slid it into the side pouch of my bag. “Let’s do this.” I threw the rest of my outdoor gear on and he grabbed my bag, tossing it over his shoulder like it weighed nothing. “I can get that you know, I’m not cri—”

  “I know, crippled. You’re not crippled, but I’m a gentleman. I always carry a lady’s bag, even if it weighs more than the lady herself.”

  Our feet crunched through the snow on our way to the shed while I shook my head in sexed up frustration. “You are a suave one.”

  “I’ve been called worse,” he promised, sliding the door to the shed open.

  I pushed him aside carefully. “Let me pull the snow machine out. I have to hook up the sled.”

  “Sled?” he repeated as though he was double checking what I said.

  “You don’t think we’re dragging a deer out of the woods on our own, do you?”

  “I thought we just dragged it behind us with a rope.”

  A hunter he was not, I thought, and rolled my eyes. I grabbed the key from my pocket and flipped my leg over the seat. I motored it out and went back for the sled, hooking it to the hitch. I motioned for him to drop the bag on it then added a small hatchet, tarp, my bow, and a few other things I might need, then tied it all down.

  “That will make it considerably easier,” he agreed, chuckling. “Is Beast coming along?”

  “You’ve met Beast, right?”

  “He doesn’t like to hunt?”

  “Oh, he loves to hunt. The problem stems from the fact he’s like a bear in the woods. Loud, bumbling, and doesn’t give a fuck who hears him.”

  He burst out laughing, my words tickling him to his core as he wiped his eyes. “I can see that, actually. Scoot forward, I’ll climb on behind you.”

  I spun toward him from the seat. “Try again, Lumberjack Ted. You ride on the sled.” I hooked a thumb behind me at the long wooden sled.

  He eyed the sled and then me. “I’m afraid, Lumberjack Tina, that sled isn’t big enough to hold even the smallest part of me.”

  I eyed the prominent bulge at the front of his snow pants. “I’m confident it would fit.”

  “Oh, me too.” That was all he said, then had the audacity to swing his leg over the back of the machine and snuggle up to me, his chest plastered against my back. “Perfect. I’m cozy back here. You ready?” he asked innocently. In the next breath his hands came around to hold my waist. “How do you drive this thing one handed anyway?”

  “Like this.” I slid my arm into the special mitt hanging off the handle and hit the throttle with the other hand. We took off and his squeal,
quickly covered with laughter, made me giggle. I ran the snowmobile right off the bank onto the lake at full power. We bounced a few times, and the sled threatened to flip, but it held on when we hit the center of the lake. The ride smoothed out and the whine of the engine was too loud for conversation. I was okay with no conversation. Especially since the heat of his body up against mine made it hard to think, much less put words into sentences.

  Woman, you really need to stop this right now. Your past alone should tell you men are never who they pretend to be, and you can be damn absolute sure this guy isn’t either. He can dress in nice clothes, smell like sex in a bottle, and wear a beard that you know is going to feel like heaven between your legs, but still be a total dick weasel and lying asshole. A straight up, downright, unadulterated lying asshole. He has a penis, that’s all you need to know.

  I tossed my head to the side. His penis probably worked freakishly well. I bet it would work so well for the five minutes he was using it on me, I would even forget about how every guy I’d ever dated had managed to hurt me. Then again, unless his penis had amnesic producing powers, that wasn’t likely. I had to stop thinking about his penis! I had to stop thinking about him! “Blergly squergly!” I yelled, forgetting I wasn’t alone.

  He leaned in, his lips at my ear, again. “Blergly squergly? I have to admit, nothing about those two words sound encouraging.”

  I bit my lip and slowed the machine enough to pull off the lake into the woods again. Considering the terrain, we had to go much slower. Slow enough for conversation, unfortunately. I steered the machine around a tree and sighed.

  “I was thinking about your dick!” I yelled backward.

  He coughed loudly, as though for once something I said shocked him. “What about it?”

  “How it would definitely fit on the sled, but your ego wouldn’t,” I yelled over the engine, snickering softly enough he didn’t hear me. If I had to piss him off in order to keep him from being too interested in me, I had no problem with it. Right now, he was way too close.