“Fine. You want to talk? You want to devolve what we have into messy relationship territory? I’ll talk.” Reese said, his voice raised again. “I was in love with her, okay? I found out she was fucking my best friend, and for the second time in my life, my thoughts bordered on suicidal. The only time I ever felt that way was when my mother died. I thought I’d outgrown it, yet here I was in a big house I owned, the weight of a future company on my shoulders. In an instant”—he leaned in, his fingers pressed together to make his point—“I was fifteen again. Unsure. Scared. Desperate.”
Merina’s stomach flipped. She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to block out the pain in his words.
“I vowed never to set foot in this house again. Every room reminded me of Gwyneth. I made plans to build a life with her and she…” A muscle in his jaw flickered and Merina’s heart sank. He’d planned a life with Gwyneth. Here. In this house. “I was willing to risk my future, the company I am now running, to pander to love.”
Merina had fallen in love with him. Completely, no take-backs. What a shitty time to have that revelation.
It hurt to hear he loved Gwyneth, but it hurt more to hear him slot love into the category of “inconvenient.” Reese equated love with being weak. Who needed love now that he had his precious company?
“That future existed only in my imagination,” Reese continued, his voice eerily calm.
“What about your new future? You have a chance at something here…We have a chance to build on what we’ve started.”
“No, Merina.” Those two words were so final. “Seeing my photo splashed on television was more than inconvenient and embarrassing. It was a reminder of a very important decision I made. The reason I dated random women and broke it off after one date for the last five years was because I never want to feel like that again. That’s why our arrangement is and always was going to be temporary.”
It was a low blow. One she felt in her heart. Because she was the moron who went ahead and fell for him while they were under “contract.”
“Women are temporary. Gwyneth was temporary. Those one-night stands? Each one as forgettable as the last.” He took a step away from her as if illustrating his point.
“Reese—”
“And so are we.”
Her face went cold. A part of her saw what he was doing and hated him for it. But a larger part loved him and hated to see how much he was hurting. That part of her spoke next.
“Goddammit, Reese, don’t do this.” She wanted to touch him and if she thought he’d allow it, she would have. As close as she thought they had become, she now saw she didn’t know his heart at all. “You can’t tell me out of all the times we slept together, you never once wondered if we might work out. You can’t tell me you never thought ‘what if?’ You can’t…because I was there, Reese. I was…”
She had to stop talking when a lump seized her throat. And that lump came because her husband’s face hadn’t changed. His brows didn’t bow in sympathy and he didn’t come a single step closer to her. His navy eyes were dark and emotionless.
Which meant she was wrong.
He’d never considered them working out. He’d never asked “what if?” She loved him and yet he couldn’t see them as more than an arrangement.
She was another in a long line. Soon to be forgotten.
“I’m getting a shower.” His face was studiously flat. “I’ll sleep in the guest bedroom so you don’t have to worry about me bothering you.”
He went inside and she watched him go. Everything had escalated so quickly. Or maybe it hadn’t. Maybe this had been building since the night she laid eyes on Gwyneth at Alex’s retirement party. That should have been her clue that Reese couldn’t handle a relationship. She’d patted herself on the back for handling his ex like a pro, and he hadn’t handled it at all.
Every part of her wanted to run after him now and finish this fight, but instead she rooted her feet to the ground and let him go.
She’d risked too much tonight. If he didn’t know how she felt after that tirade, then he was a bigger idiot than she was. He may be protecting himself, but she needed to protect herself as well.
She’d been taken advantage of once before and as a result had become stronger. She could deal with this. Even though her stupid heart had the worst taste in men, she would survive this. She’d come out stronger.
Eventually.
* * *
Nothing was working.
Reese dropped his pen and leaned back in his chair, face to his hands. The massive headache behind his eyes had cropped up before lunch, and nothing he’d done to stave it off had helped. Not the ten minutes he laid down on his couch and tried to rest his eyes, not the painkillers he swallowed, and not trying to ignore it by getting back to work.
In the week that had passed since the fight with Merina, work hadn’t been the same. The exhilaration of CEO he’d felt initially had dulled. Now he just felt busy.
He pulled a hand down his face. God. He felt like shit for the things he’d said to her. The way he’d walked away. She stood there on his back patio her vulnerability on display when she asked him to give “them” a shot. Them as in him and Merina. The “we” he’d recognized when she’d dropped off the frame wasn’t in his imagination.
But it wasn’t the right thing to do. In a rare moment of word vomit, he’d told her the truth. He was broken. Merina should be with someone who suited her, and while they were compatible as hell in bed, out of it…they weren’t.
She was passion and vibrance and truth, and he was fear and cages and avoidance. At least when it came to relationships. She needed someone to bloom with—to thrive.
He wasn’t that guy.
He’d slept in the guest bedroom every night since the argument and while he didn’t care what the house staff thought about having to make up two different beds in the morning, he did care that Merina hadn’t chased him down. A big part of him expected her to demand he talk about things. When she didn’t, he figured she’d given up, thereby giving him what he asked for. Saving herself and leaving him to himself.
Only today, right now, that wasn’t what he fucking wanted. She gave him space and he, for a change, wanted none. The night they’d argued, the next night, and every night after, Merina’s bedroom door remained closed. She remained behind it.
This morning, outside her bedroom door he hesitated, hand poised to knock, but in the end walked away. The things he’d told her weren’t nice, but they were true. If they were always meant to be temporary, he may as well let her begin disconnecting now. He’d told her so much truth, he was sick from it. He and Merina had grown closer than he’d anticipated. If he let himself think for a second “what if”…well. He wouldn’t go there with her.
He couldn’t.
He blew out a breath now, his head still aching. No woman made him feel the way Merina Van Heusen did.
Merina Crane, his mind corrected.
Right. His wife.
The outside world wasn’t privy to their marital squabble, however. No, for the world they’d become actors. Merina played the part and so did he. It was the way he’d imagined things would be the day she’d signed the premarital agreement, but after all they’d been through, the distance felt wrong.
The day after the argument, Penelope had called an emergency meeting at Crane Hotel. Merina showed up, looking fresh and beautiful, and Reese sat there with a mouthful of apologies he’d had to swallow down. For the sake of business. For the sake of the future.
Pen made it clear them being seen together was paramount. “You can’t let Gwyneth get any more mileage out of this. Keep doing what you’re doing. Go places together. Let people see you kissing, holding hands, smiling.”
Merina accepted the challenge gracefully. Head up, with a curt nod, her viciously dominant spirit in charge. She’d done a convincing job pretending to like him, which he assumed she didn’t. How could she after what he’d said to her?
He made it a point to drop her
off and pick her up at work, placing a kiss on her lips for the waiting paparazzi. The Spread was milking Gwyneth’s tweet. Pen had sent him a text with a link to an article featuring him and Merina at dinner yesterday. In the photo, Merina was leaning on the table, breasts on display, tattoo bare, smiling at him.
He’d sat with his arm around her as she told him about her day and toyed with the knot of his tie. Her act was so genuine, he thought he was off the hook. He’d taken her hand, hell-bent on dragging her to the single bathroom to devour her, but then she’d mumbled under her breath, “Reporter at the bar.”
That’s when he’d realized it was all for show. The woman who had warmly touched him and showed off the tattoo she’d previously hidden was simply enduring him until they could call it quits.
It was frustrating and irritating…and exactly what she needed to do.
He was all for pretending when he was part of the game, but the game had changed. She’d closed off the part of her he’d grown used to. Not just the sex part. The genuine Merina part. Now he was left with…he didn’t know. Some cardboard version of her.
The wife he’d spent the last week with was not the same woman who, drenched, had carried a doorknob into his office and called him a suited sewer rat. He smiled at the memory, but then his smile faded as pain lanced his chest. He missed her.
And had no idea how to fix it.
After their explosive argument, he assumed Merina felt something for him that was strictly unadvised. He’d thought for a terrifying minute that she’d fallen for him…or was about to. Fear hit him like a safe dropped from the top of a building. Being responsible for her heart…he couldn’t. He’d fail. Miserably and completely. Even thinking of her vulnerability in his hands now made his chest constrict.
But things hadn’t worked out that way after all. Merina soldiered on, respecting his boundaries. He would have thought he’d be thrilled when she stopped hassling him about his “feelings.”
In general, he didn’t like to share. He didn’t want to talk about things. He was better living in the present. Step 1, Step 2, Step 3…and on and on until the goal was reached. Along the way, Merina pulled information out of him. No. He’d offered. He’d wanted her to know about him. She was in his life, in his house…
In my heart.
She had a way of making him less mechanical and more open. Which was one of the reasons he asked her to do this with him in the first place. She was great with the press, with people in general. If anyone would believe the cold heart of the playboy had been won, Merina could convince them.
So either he was a great actor, or she was really convincing, or…
Or nothing.
He sure as fuck wasn’t going there.
There was a light tap at the door, followed by Bobbie’s voice. “Mr. Crane.”
His skull pulsed and he closed his eyes against in pain. He’d asked his assistant not to use the intercom given that his brains kept trying to bust out of his cranium.
She poked her head through a crack in the door. “Did you need a change of clothing for tonight? You’re due at the Van Heusen in an hour, and I wasn’t sure if you’re planning on going home first.”
An hour? This day had vanished. He looked over the papers spread on his desk and the many pink notes from Bobbie with phone calls he’d yet to return.
“Uh, no. I’m…I’ll clean up here and head straight over.”
“Very well, sir.” Bobbie nodded, then pulled the door shut.
Dread covered him like a heavy blanket.
Merina’s parents were celebrating their anniversary at the Van Heusen hotel.
“You have to be there,” Penelope had told him when he mentioned he was going to skip it. He’d thought it best to let Merina go alone and tell everyone he was at a work meeting. Faking for the press was one thing, but her family…
He wasn’t that good of an actor.
When he’d argued with Penelope, she’d again insisted he go. “You’re her husband. This is her parents’ anniversary. It’s a no-miss, Reese.”
She was right, of course. He was tired of the women in his life being right.
Reese shut down his computer, the pressure behind his eyes making his teeth ache. In an hour he’d be standing in the Van Heusen’s ballroom with Merina’s parents. Two people who were in love and had been for years.
Reese hadn’t told Merina the whole truth of what he and Mark had shared at that cookout. Yes, Mark had asked about the hotel and Reese’s plans, saying, “Merina loves it so very much,” but he’d also asked Reese not to hurt her.
“I’m not sure what’s going on with the two of you,” Mark had said, “but you should know my daughter has a tenderness about her that has been taken advantage of before. Don’t hurt her, Reese.”
Reese wasn’t planning on hurting her, but he could see the potential there. Hurting her was staying with her. Letting her believe in him, expecting him to change and be the man she needed. His telling her she was temporary was to honor her father’s request.
So tonight. He’d do this for her. He’d endure a family gathering, one guaranteed to remind him of his own fractured family—of his mother’s loss—and he’d make sure Mark and Jolie saw that no matter what, Merina’s wholeness was his priority.
But as his heart pounded fast behind his ribs, he feared giving her what she needed would cost him what he needed.
Her.
Chapter 18
City lights moved outside the tinted windows on the quiet ride back from her parents’ anniversary party. The air in the backseat of the town car was thick and restrictive. The interior as dark as the deep furrow in Reese’s brow.
Merina was exhausted from an evening spent putting on a show for her parents’ guests. Forced to look happy and in love—only one of which was true. Who knew she could be miserable and in love? That was a first.
Her parents danced, toasted, and regaled the crowd with a retelling of their engagement. State Street, the ice skating rink, her father on bended knee in freshly fallen snow. It was a story she’d heard a hundred times and one that always made her heart full. Tonight, it made her chest feel like it was filled with cement, the weight of it sagging her shoulders. Could have been Reese’s reaction. She’d watched him while her parents spoke. The way his lips were rigid when he forced a smile. The way he white-knuckled his scotch glass. How stiffly he’d held her when he danced with her out of obligation.
“All in all not a bad night,” she lied, picking a speck of lint from her skirt. Someone had to break the suffocating silence.
Reese emitted a noncommittal grunt.
This week had been chipping away at her soul. Not because she’d had to pretend to want to touch him, talk to him, and spend time with him for the press’s sake. The hideous truth was that she wanted to touch him, talk to him, and spend time with him. Even after he’d made it clear that he didn’t want her.
Resisting him had been harder than she’d imagined. That same ache of loneliness when she’d first moved in with him attacked again. Only now she was lonely for him.
Sleeping in separate bedrooms was one of the hardest adjustments of her life. She’d grown used to that closeness, his warmth and hardness at her back. She’d come to miss him teasing her about using his coffee mug in the morning. Now he was gone by the time she got up.
Reese put his hand to his head and massaged his temple. It wasn’t the first time he’d done it tonight.
“Still not feeling well?” she asked. The more she tried not to care, the more she was reminded she did.
“It’s the same headache I’ve had for days.” He adjusted his tie—purple and paired with a dark gray suit and pale gray shirt. His face was trimmed close, his hair in its usual state of perfection. He smelled good, looked great, and knowing she wasn’t free to touch him in private made her heart squeeze painfully.
No doubt her parents’ invitation at the end of the evening hadn’t helped his aching head. Hell, Merina felt a migraine of her own brewin
g the moment her father opened his mouth.
“Merina is a very important part of our love story,” Mark said. “And you, Reese, are now an important part of hers.”
Oh God. Oh no. Her father was a sap, and he was about to make a huge mistake.
“Dad.”
But he kept talking. Kept digging.
“This year, we want to include you two in our tradition.”
She didn’t dare look up at Reese, who stood stock-still and stone silent next to her.
Jolie leaned over and kissed Merina’s cheek. “Wait until you’ve been together twenty-five years and have a daughter of your own to embarrass.”
They’d invited Reese and Merina to the ice rink on State Street in December. It was her parent’s annual tradition, though now they sipped hot cocoa instead of lacing up their skates.
She and Reese had endured the invitation as graciously as two people who knew they would be divorced by then could. Shortly after, they made their escape from the Van Heusen ballroom where a town car, complete with driver, waited.
Now they rode in the backseat, ensconced in silence. Someone needed to address what had happened tonight. May as well be her.
“They genuinely like you, you know.” Not what she’d meant to say, but it was true. He should know that her parents weren’t putting on a show. “We had a rough start but you won them over.”
Reese shifted in his seat, mouth a grim line as he stared straight ahead.
“Can you at least talk to me?” she whispered.
He faced her, handsome and hard, and she couldn’t bear it any longer. She’d cracked through this façade once before. She could do it again.
“Reese. Let’s—”
“We’re here,” Reese said as the car pulled into the driveway of their Lake Shore Drive mansion.
So they were. She looked out the window at the home she’d soon be leaving.
The Billionaire Bachelor (Billionaire Bad Boys Book 1) Page 26
