The Protective One: A Billionaire Bride Pact Romance

by Cami Checketts

  Tucker nodded to MacKenzie and pulled his tiny wife close. They were so cute. Beckham and Alyssa were just ahead and it was fun to see Alyssa’s rounded belly. She’d be the second of them to be a mom. Crazy and so exciting.

  MacKenzie walked away, but she couldn’t care less about a bathroom, she had to find Isaac. She glimpsed his dark, curly hair over by where the caterers were setting up. Hurrying that direction, she could see his face now. Oh, how she longed to run her fingers down his smooth cheek. He turned and his green eyes lit up as they met hers, but then they dimmed and he turned away and took off.

  What was going on? She was the runner, not him. Isaac was the stand up and fight kind of guy, and until the past two days he’d been the guy that was fighting for her.

  MacKenzie was confused, hurt, and not going to lie down and let him kick her to the curb. She hurried after him. He headed off into the trees and was almost hidden by a grove of aspen trees. He was honestly running from her.

  “Isaac, stop!” she hollered out, running in heels was not conducive to a chase.

  He stopped and turned. The shadows of the trees hid his expression as she approached. When she finally glimpsed his face he looked so sad. “Hey,” he muttered. “I was going to … get something for Haley.”

  “In the forest?”

  “Yep. If you’ll excuse me.” He started to turn away.

  MacKenzie grabbed his arm, even through his suit coat she could feel the tense muscles in his forearm. What was going on? “No, I won’t excuse you. I haven’t seen you in two days and I wanted to say hi.”

  A muscle clenched in his jaw. His green eyes darkened and narrowed. “Hi,” he ground out.

  “You’re mad at me?” She dropped his arm and stepped back. “I’m sorry I ran off without saying goodbye. It was really early in the morning and the FBI said it was now or never and I felt like that was my opportunity to go see my parents. This whole deal was really hard on them.”

  His face softened. “I understand, MacKenzie, and you had every right to go see your parents.”

  She flinched at the use of her full name. “Why didn’t you return my call?”

  “What call?” He took a step closer to her.

  “I left a voice mail on your phone.” She bit at the inside of her cheek. Had he not heard the message, or was he embarrassed because she’d said she loved him?

  “I never got it.”

  MacKenzie pulled her phone out of her bra. Isaac blushed and looked away. She pressed a few buttons then showed him. “See, here’s your number. 970-880-9771.”

  He shook his head. “My number’s 9770.”

  “Haley.” MacKenzie groaned. “She has had a lot going on.”

  Isaac smiled sadly at her. “I appreciate you calling, MacKenzie, but—”

  “You call me Mac,” she interrupted him.

  He licked his lips and his eyes roved over her face. “I can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  His Adam’s apple bobbed before he said in such a low voice she had to lean closer to understand, “If I had you for a girlfriend, I wouldn’t want another man kissing you and calling you nicknames.” He clenched and unclenched his fist.

  “What?” She was so confused. “I thought you were my boyfriend.” Her face flared. The way he was acting he obviously didn’t want her for a girlfriend.

  “Really?” His eyebrows shot up and a furrow appeared between his eyes. “Maybe you should tell that to the guy you were kissing at the gym.”

  “Kissing at what gym? Who was I kissing?” Isaac was maddening. Why was he making up some story about her kissing some guy? Did he need an excuse to get away from her?

  “I don’t know.” He pushed a hand through his hair, mussing the curls that had been sculpted to perfection for the wedding. “Some dark-haired guy with lots of fake muscles.”

  “Fake muscles? Vince?” Vince had kissed her, but she’d told him not to and hadn’t returned his kiss. “How did you…” Her voice trailed off and his anger and distance and Cal asking if Isaac “found her” and her doorman’s confusing story about someone named Isaac stopping by all suddenly made sense. “You came to Chicago?”

  He nodded tersely.

  “You came to Chicago!” He did care. He cared a lot. MacKenzie threw herself at him.

  He remained stiff and didn’t wrap his arms around her. “I’m not into two-timers, MacKenzie.”

  MacKenzie stepped back, hating that her voice trembled as she spoke, “You call me Mac and I’m not a two-timer.”

  He looked so sad. “I saw you. I saw you kissing him.”

  “No, you didn’t. Vince picked me up and kissed me then I cussed him out and told him and my other friends all about you.” She slapped her hand on his chest. Oh, my, those muscles are nicely formed. Don’t get distracted. “You want to call Vince and ask him about it?”

  He looked away. “No. It’s okay.”

  MacKenzie pushed the number on her phone. Vince answered on the first ring and she didn’t waste any time putting it on speaker. “Vince. When you kissed me on Monday how did I react?”

  “You told me not to and told me about your boyfriend in Colorado. Why?”

  MacKenzie studied Isaac’s face. The confusion melted away and he stared at her with a hunger that was undeniable.

  “Thanks.” MacKenzie ended the call and stored the phone in her bra again.

  Isaac studied her for a few seconds then reached out and took both of her hands in his. “I was so dumb. I left as soon as I saw him kiss you.”

  MacKenzie thought back. “I remember hearing a door close.”

  He nodded.

  MacKenzie squeezed his hands. “All I’ve been thinking about is you, wanting to get back to you and see if what we have is worth me relocating for.”

  Isaac caught a breath. “You’d relocate, for me?”

  “Yes.”

  He tugged her a little bit closer. “I’m sorry I reacted so badly. I told you I loved you and then you were gone and I came after you to show you how I felt and saw him holding you.”

  “What crappy timing you have, my love.” She stood on tiptoes and pressed her lips to his.

  Isaac released her hands and wrapped his arms around her back. “Horrible timing.” He lowered his head and took his time kissing her until she was breathless and the world was spinning.

  “Did you mean it?” she asked.

  “What?” he whispered.

  “When you said you loved me.” She lowered her gaze. “I thought it might’ve just been a reaction to an intense situation.”

  Isaac gently tilted her chin up with his thumb. “It was a reaction … to you. I love how brave and strong you are.” He kissed her softly. “I love how beautiful and kind you are.” He kissed her again. “I love every part of you.” His voice lowered to a husky moan, “Mac.”

  MacKenzie grinned and kissed him back.

  19

  MacKenzie sealed the huge cardboard box with packaging tape and then attached the label she’d just printed. Large arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her against her favorite chest in the world. Isaac nuzzled her neck with his lips. “All ready to ship?”

  “Yep. UPS should be here any minute.”

  He spun her around and kissed her for several wonderful seconds. “I feel bad that you’re working as a grunt when you should be teaching school.”

  MacKenzie laughed. “I’ll be teaching soon enough.” The school board had all but promised her a position as the third grade teacher when Mrs. Campbell had her baby in January. “Besides, I’d rather be with you.”

  Isaac smelled like metal, fire, and his musky cologne. MacKenzie loved it. She loved him.

  “This has been a dream come true,” he said. “Cal and Tuck backing me. The shop and property. The business taking off. Most of all being with you.”

  She smiled.

  He took her hand. “C’mere, I wanted to show you something.”

  They walked out into the crisp fall air. It was definitel
y cooler in Crested Butte, but it was so beautiful and she was with Isaac. She’d take him over warm weather any time. An excavator slowly crested the rise. A couple of trucks followed behind it.

  MacKenzie glanced at Isaac. “What’s this?”

  Isaac grinned and dropped to his knee. He pulled out a ring box and MacKenzie covered her mouth with her hands.

  “I wanted to have the house started before I begged you to be my wife.”

  MacKenzie couldn’t find any words.

  “Mac?” Isaac opened the ring box to reveal a thick white gold band set with a large princess cut diamond. “Will you marry me?”

  MacKenzie threw herself at him and knocked him over onto his rear. Isaac laughed and hugged her there in the dirt. “Is that a yes?”

  “Can I ride on the back of your tandem bike?”

  Isaac’s green eyes swept over her with warmth. “You like that Crested Butte tradition?”

  MacKenzie ducked her head and admitted, “I’ve been daydreaming about riding on the back of your tandem bike for far too long.”

  He pulled her close. “I would love to have you on the back of my bike.” He arched his eyebrows. “So, it’s a yes?”

  “Oh, yes!” She kissed him fervently.

  Men piled out of the construction vehicles and stood watching them. Someone yelled, “Wow, Isaac, guess she said yes?”

  MacKenzie glanced around. The loud redhead guy who’d hit on her at Long Lake was grinning from the steps of an excavator. He tipped his hard hat to her.

  “How did they know?” MacKenzie asked.

  “Everyone but you knew, my love.”

  “Of course the fiancée is the last to know.”

  “No secrets in this town. Taz told everyone he was going to lose another girlfriend.”

  MacKenzie laughed. “Give me that dang ring already so nobody else tries to make me their girlfriend.”

  “No one had better try,” Isaac growled.

  He slid the ring on her finger and she kissed him. Isaac lifted her off the ground. “Shall we supervise the building of your dream house, Mrs. Turnbow?”

  “Give me a pretty ring, build me a house, and think you can call me whatever you want?”

  “What would you prefer I call you?” His green eyes did that snake charmer thing again. She wanted to tell him he could call her whatever he wanted because she was his.

  “Mac,” she managed to say breathlessly.

  Isaac grinned and swooped her into his arms. “I love you, Mac,” he shouted for everyone to hear.

  The construction guys chuckled and left them alone. It was much later when they finally started supervising the building of their dream home.

  Additional Works by Cami Checketts

  Also Available by Cami Checketts

  The Resilient One: Billionaire Bride Pact Romance

  The Feisty One: Billionaire Bride Pact Romance

  Shadows in the Curtain: Destination Billionaire Romance

  Caribbean Rescue: Destination Billionaire Romance

  Protect This

  Blog This

  Redeem This

  The Broken Path

  Dead Running

  Dying to Run

  Full Court Devotion: Christmas in Snow Valley

  A Touch of Love: Summer in Snow Valley

  Running from the Cowboy: Spring in Snow Valley

  The Fourth of July

  Poison Me

  The Colony

  About the Author

  Cami is a part-time author, part-time exercise consultant, part-time housekeeper, full-time wife, and overtime mother of four adorable boys. Sleep and relaxation are fond memories. She’s never been happier.

  Sign up for Cami’s newsletter to receive a free ebook and information about new releases, discounts, and promotions here.

  If you enjoyed The Protective One, please consider posting a review on Amazon, Goodreads, or your personal blog. Thank you for helping to spread the word.

  For more information

  @camichecketts

  CamiCheckettsAuthor

  www.camichecketts.com

  The diamond ring was ridiculously large, even by Holly’s standards. She liked blingy jewelry as much as the next girl, and when it came time to pick an engagement ring, she’d steered Brit toward Grace Kelly’s famous ten-carat diamond. Holly’s seven-carat stone wasn’t quite as big as Grace’s, but it was the same emerald cut and it did have the same diamond baguettes inset on either side.

  She’d hoped Brit would be inspired by Grace Kelly’s ring. Turns out there was such a thing as too literal a translation.

  There was a slight hissing sound and Holly looked up, directly into her mother’s frosty stare. Surprised, she scanned the banquet table, where the rest of the ladies who made up Le Ciel resort’s charitable planning committee had lapsed into silence. Holly looked back in time to see her mother’s glance shifted to her left hand, and Holly realized she was tapping the back of her engagement ring against the table like a judge banging a gavel.

  Oh.

  “Sorry,” Holly muttered. She clasped her hands together in her lap.

  Her mother gave her a practiced smile, then turned back to the discussion she was directing. “The executive chef told me today he’s found enough squab for the seventh course after all. I was afraid we’d have to substitute with Cornish game hens, but he pulled some strings and they’ll be flown in from Toronto the day before the party.”

  There was murmured approval at the news, and Holly’s mother beamed. The brunch was the last planning meeting before Le Ciel’s annual October ball to benefit the hospital, and as committee chairman, Frances Clarke was in her element.

  Frances looked younger than her fifty-seven years, with an olive-tinged complexion and straight dark hair that she wore in layers, reminding Holly of a brunette Sharon Osbourne. A rigorous regime of yoga, juice cleanses, and healthy eating had helped her maintain a slim figure, and the regular Botox took care of any wrinkles that dared appear. She never left the house without full hair and makeup, and her designer closet was the envy of her social circle.

  “Julia, did you speak to the videographer?” she asked.

  Julia Higgins wore a ring with a chocolate diamond almost as big as Holly’s. The stone flashed in the late morning sunlight as she tucked a strand of silvery hair behind her ear. “Yes, and they have a computer program to make the video look vintage. I don’t know how it works, but he assured me it will look straight out of 1912 by the time he’s finished.” The theme this year was “A Night Aboard the Titanic,” and the foundation would spare no expense to make the ball authentic.

  The women fell silent as Frances consulted her agenda. Holly glanced around the table, where many of the Wastach Front’s most influential families were represented. Some of the women were prominent in their own right, but most were here as representatives of their larger families, such as wives of politicians, business moguls, and sports stars, and heirs of family dynasties that had been running Utah for generations. All were impeccably dressed in designer suits or dresses, all with plentiful amounts of jewelry on display. They’d finished the main course and were nibbling delicately on the raspberry sorbet and lemon butter cookies provided by Le Ciel’s catering.

  “As you can see, the Barn is coming along.” Frances waved her hand around the room. “The Barn” was the informal name for the primary reception center on Le Ciel resort—a world-class vacation destination that was owned and operated by Holly’s family. Why it was called “the Barn” was anyone’s guess, the place resembled more of a fort than a barn with its stone walls, high, timbered ceiling, and central courtyard. Sounds of construction drifted into the brunch from the huge main room, where workers were busy transforming the space into the Titanic.

  “If you’d like to stop by and check on the progress throughout the week, you’re more than welcome,” Holly’s mother continued. “Send me or Holly a text first so we can alert security. Are there any questions?”

  Ta
nya Emery, wife of a respected Utah oncologist, raised her hand. “I think we might need to find one or two more activities. I’m afraid people won’t stay for the auction if the only thing to do is dancing.”

  There was a pause as everyone considered this; then, the women all began talking at once. Most agreed with Tanya. From the general tone of barely contained hysteria around the table, Holly gathered this could be a catastrophe in the making.

  “Ladies!” Frances raised her hands, and the women quieted instantly. “Let’s not panic. We don’t need anything too involved. We’ve all done our research; let’s brainstorm another activity that would go with the theme.”

  The women immediately launched into chatter.

  “Shuffleboard?”

  “Cards?”

  “What about a second- or third-class activity?”

  “What else suggests ‘Titanic’ to you?”

  “The ice bucket challenge?” Holly said loudly.

  Conversation screeched to a halt, and for the second time in less than twenty minutes, Holly was acutely aware of her mother’s pinch-lipped stare.

  “At least it would be historically accurate,” Holly said. She tried to lighten her tone and turn it into a joke, but from the frowns around the table, she knew no one was buying it.

  Frances continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “Shuffleboard might be fun. We could set up a game area in one of the rooms across the courtyard.”

  The idea caught on and soon the committee buzzed with ideas for more period-specific games.

  Finally, after making sure everyone knew their assignments, Frances dismissed the meeting. Chairs scraped against the hardwood floors as everyone rose. Some of the women made their way outside, but most lingered, obviously wanting a private word with Frances.

  “Holly, wait,” Frances ordered when Holly made a move to follow those who were leaving. Holly had no choice but to sink back into her chair. She answered emails on her phone while various women asked her mother for costume advice, her opinion on the seating chart, and even the recipe for today’s lemon cookies. Frances handled them all with the decisive air of one who likes being in charge.