He kissed her softly, the aching sweetness of his touch lighting her up from the inside out. His kiss deepened and Marissa savored each movement of his lips. The way his hands held her with strength and tenderness. His smell. All of him.
He gave a low groan and simply held her close. “You don’t know how happy you’ve made me, Riss. How long I’ve waited to touch you, hold you, tell you that I love you. So many times I’ve hated myself as I kissed another woman and wanted her to be you, but it never felt like you ...” He stopped and grimaced. “Whoa, sorry. That didn’t come out right.”
It was the slap in the face Marissa didn’t want, but maybe she needed. Oh, reality was not her friend. She backed up and his arms dropped away. Silence stretched between them for a few horrible seconds. Byron swallowed and said, “Riss. You know there have been other women.”
“I know and I appreciate you being honest about it.” How could she have told him she loved him and simply forgotten about all the past, present, and future women competing for Byron Judd? She was fighting tears again and it ticked her off. She was a professional, successful woman, and yet here she was—scratched up, dirty, teary-eyed, and falling for a man who couldn’t stay true to her. It just wasn’t in his DNA.
“But there’s something I need to tell you,” he said.
Marissa held up a hand. “You need to get back to the wedding dinner. I apologize for making you miss so much of your brother’s wedding day.”
“No, Riss, you need to hear this.”
“I …” She blinked quickly. Byron would never be true to her. He might as well cut her heart out as lie to her that he would try to be faithful. “I can’t do this.”
Byron opened his mouth, but the rumble of a truck coming down the road grabbed Marissa’s attention. She pivoted and ran with everything in her toward the road. She could hear Byron on her heels, but she was fleeing for her sanity. Even though being barefoot hurt, it probably made her faster with gripping the sometimes muddy ground. She heard Byron slip, hit the ground, and curse. Wincing for him, but not willing to stop, she dodged onto the road. The truck almost hit her, brakes squealing and dust exploding from under its tires as it ground to a halt.
Marissa held up a hand and rushed around to the passenger side, yanking the door open and climbing onto the running board. “Can you take me down the mountain?” she begged the middle-aged driver.
He stared at her like she was an alien, but nodded shortly.
Byron ran in front of the truck as she slammed the door shut. “Drive,” she screamed.
Byron made it around to her side. She shoved the door lock down before Byron could yank on the handle. The man stared at her, but dropped it into gear and pulled away.
Byron banged on the door and hollered, “Marissa, wait.”
The tears were back and Marissa begged the driver. “Please, please, drive.”
He pushed the gas down and Marissa hated that she watched out of the side mirror as Byron ran alongside the truck then dropped further and further behind. She closed her eyes as wetness trickled down her face.
“Ain’t none of my business,” the man said, “but I think that gentleman had something to say to you.”
“Nothing he says can change the truth,” Marissa muttered.
“Ah, one of those?” He downshifted and the truck slowed on the steep slope.
Marissa could only nod. She was too spent to even wipe the tears away.
Chapter Three
Byron finally admitted to himself he wasn’t going to catch the truck speeding away with Marissa, and stopped in the middle of the muddy road. His chest heaved from the exertion and the emotion. Had she really run away from him again? Was he ever going to convince her that he was genuine? That he loved her and only her?
He turned and trudged back to the wedding party. Looking down at his suit, he knew he was in for some teasing from his brother and concerned looks from everyone else. He laughed shortly, trying to remember the last time he’d ruined a tailored suit. Okay, he’d probably never ruined a tailored suit. He tried to brush the mud off his pants, straighten his shirt and coat, and smooth his hair.
He slipped into the wedding party, pasting on a smile he didn’t feel. Luckily the dinner was over and people were milling around talking. He got a few questioning looks, but he was able to downplay any questions with his usual charm. His brain was spinning with ways to find Marissa, and yet make Chance’s day great. He had to keep reminding himself this day was about Chance and Summer, not him, but it felt like if he didn’t find Marissa and tell her everything, she’d slip away and he’d never get another chance.
He greeted family members and met all of Summer’s girl’s camp friends. It was only when Summer pinned him alone that he got the harsh whisper, “Where is Marissa?”
He forced a smile for onlookers as he wrapped an arm around his new sister-in-law. “I messed it up. She ran again.”
Her face crumpled. “No. I was so hoping…”
“It’ll all work out,” he lied. “I don’t want you to worry.”
An elderly gentleman, he thought it was Summer’s grandpa, was approaching her with arms held out. Summer gave Chance a squeeze. “She’s staying at the Elevation Hotel. Go find her quick.”
“Got it. Thanks, sis.” He pecked her on the cheek and then released her so she could hug her grandpa. Byron smiled when moments later Chance grabbed his wife to start the dancing. Summer was perfect for his brother, and Byron couldn’t have been happier for them. He wanted their day to be perfect, but he also wanted to slip away as quickly as possible and find Marissa. He prayed she’d gone back to her hotel and not to the nearest airport.
Marissa slipped out of her ripped clothes, cursing herself for leaving her favorite pair of Manolo Blahnik heels on the muddy mountain. She took a hot shower, and then dressed in a blousy black shirt and patterned tights. She didn’t usually dress this casual, but she wanted to be comfy if she had to wait at the airport all day for a flight. Her flight was scheduled for tomorrow afternoon, but she couldn’t stay here any longer. Couldn’t risk Byron finding her and talking her into staying with him for life. She wished it could be different and she could trust him, but he wasn’t going to reform for her. It was too much to hope for.
She glanced around the hotel room, certain she’d packed everything. Shouldering her purse, she dragged her suitcase behind her, out the door, and down the hallway. She’d almost reached the elevator when it dinged open. Byron rushed out, looking impossibly handsome and disheveled. His dress shoes were coated with grime, his suit coat was gone, his white shirt had dirt stains on it, his fitted dress pants had a rip in the leg and mud caked on them, and his hair was mussed. He’d never looked better.
A small gasp escaped and she almost threw herself into his arms and cried with gratitude that he’d found her. She held her ground and the elevator closed behind him. His dark eyes swept over her. She didn’t know how to escape, or if she even wanted to.
“Room key, please,” he said.
Marissa blinked at him, but pulled the key out of her purse and handed it to him. He nodded, not smiling as he took her suitcase and wrapped his hand around her elbow, escorting her back to her suite as if it was the only option she had. It probably was.
“How’d you know where I was?” she murmured.
“Summer’s been my ally in reconnecting us.” He unlocked the door and gestured for her to go first.
Marissa walked through and sank wearily into one of the chairs. She couldn’t risk the couch and him sitting right beside her. Summer wanted them together? She should’ve guessed with how insistent her friend was that she be at the wedding, and talking Byron up every chance she got. Summer wouldn’t want her with somebody who would break her heart again, would she?
“She knew my room number?”
“The girl at the front desk was very helpful.” Byron sat in the chair opposite her, as if guessing that she couldn’t handle any physical contact right now.
“Of
course she was,” Marissa snipped out then instantly regretted it. She pinched at her forehead to try to alleviate the headache that was coming. “Byron, I’m sorry. You know me. You know this isn’t normal for me to be crying and bratty, but I really can’t do this with you anymore.”
He leaned forward and braced his elbows on his powerful thighs. “Listen to me for a few minutes, please. Then if you still want me to leave, I promise …” He shook his head and cleared his throat. “I promise I’ll go and I won’t come to you again, unless you ask me to.”
Marissa could appreciate what it took for him to say those words. She didn’t want him to go either, but they couldn’t work as a couple. In his way, Byron did love her, but she wouldn’t agree to his version of love. Her, and who knew how many women on the side. Call her old-fashioned, but she wanted a whole, committed relationship like her parents and grandparents had savored throughout their married lives.
“I’ll listen,” she finally conceded. Byron always kept his word. If she listened and then asked him to leave, this drama would be over, and maybe someday she could heal and move on.
“Thank you.” He continued leaning toward her and said, “It about killed me when you disappeared three years ago.”
Marissa wanted to respond, but she’d agreed to let him talk.
He stood and paced in the small area in front of her, his movements were strong and sure and she wondered how any woman, herself included, could ever resist him.
“I told you how I searched for you, but when I couldn’t find you and then you kept insisting we could only be friends, I flipped out a little bit.” He clenched his fists. “I dated any woman who appealed to me, then I tossed them away for the stupidest reasons you can imagine—didn’t smell right, didn’t talk right, not fun enough, not smart enough, didn’t know how to kiss.” He ticked off the reasons then stopped in front of her and stared down at her. “Basically none of them were you, none of them came close to you.”
Marissa clung to the chair handles to keep herself from rising and going to him. She hated that he’d lost himself in other women to try to find her, but yet he had tried to find her, any way possible.
“Then Chance found Summer.” A brief smile flitted over his face and he sank into the chair again and faced her. “I was so happy for them, and as I got to know her and they planned their wedding, she and I became close friends. I confided in both of them how much I loved you and she gave me a challenge. No women. Not so much as a lunch date. No physical contact of any kind, until their wedding day. She promised me she’d get you here and give me a chance with you. She called it our Lonely Billionaire Pact and I have been lonely … for you.” His dark eyes had never been more sincere.
Marissa simply stared at him, trying to comprehend what he was saying. He loved her. He and Summer had planned and schemed to reunite them. But the huge whammy. “You haven’t dated any other woman?”
He gave her the full force of his devastating smile. “For two-hundred and seventy-one days.”
“Glad it wasn’t two-hundred and seventy-two or we would’ve been sunk.” She couldn’t hold in the half-laugh. “How did you survive?”
He chuckled. “It wasn’t easy at first. Flirting and wooing had become second nature to me, but I controlled myself, and Summer took some pretty great pictures of you for me. Those helped a lot. I’d look at them and read your latest text, or listen to a voice mail from you, and it became very easy to not even look twice at another woman.”
Marissa saw him, truly saw him for the first time in three years. He had committed to her, and she hadn’t even known it. He loved her like she wanted to be loved. She pushed from her seat and knelt in front of him, grabbing his hands in hers.
Byron’s eyebrows leapt up. “Riss?”
“Swear to me it’s true. You love me, and only me. You gave up dating other women for seven months to prove it.”
“It’s true. I swear it on Mumford’s Sons and KJ’s Fun Zone.”
She smiled. His company and her job were the constants they both knew and trusted.
He tugged her up and before she knew it she was sitting on his lap, secure and happy in his arms. He kissed her, softly at first, but then neither of them could hold back and the passion and love he felt for her encompassed her as surely as his arms. He released her mouth and trailed kisses along her jaw then down her neck.
“Stop,” Marissa stuttered out.
Byron drew back. “Wh-what?”
Marissa ran her hands through his hair and grinned at him. “You’d better stop or my daddy’s going to have to force you to marry me.”
Byron chuckled, kissed her until she was floating, and then whispered against her mouth. “I’ve waited three long years for you, love. Elope with me tonight and I’ll take you anywhere in the world you want on a honeymoon.”
She laughed so loud she snorted, completely unlike her usual reserved self. She had Byron back and her life wasn’t going to be settled, orderly, or functional, it was going to be happy. “You don’t want to wait for Summer and Chance to get off their honeymoon and our parents to be there?”
“That’s the definition of eloping, love, I get you all to myself.”
She looked over his handsome face. “You’ve waited three years. Can you wait until tomorrow so we can find me a dress, you a suit that isn’t ripped, and fly my parents in? Your parents are already here, and I bet we can talk Chance and Summer into stopping in for a quick wedding before they fly to Costa Rica.”
He pursed his lips then smiled. “You know I’ll do whatever you want, Riss. If you want, I’ll wait another three years.”
“I would never do that to you.” She kissed him soundly and he moaned.
“Good,” he said, “Because if your daddy has a shotgun, he might need to use it on me.”
Marissa threw back her head and laughed. Byron took advantage of the moment to kiss her neck again. Her laughter ceased and she met his lips again. Her future husband’s kissing abilities were unsurpassed. Tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough.
The Feisty One by Cami Checketts
Mr. Braxton returned with a tray of tea, coffee, and pastries. Maryn had lost herself for a few minutes in The Last Mile by David Baldacci. She loved that book. Now her stomach was churning too much to eat anything. Where was this guy? She’d been here for over fifteen minutes and was beginning to wonder if he planned on speaking to her at all. Typical rich jerk, thought everyone was just waiting around for him all day.
She shook out her hands and focused on snapping a few pictures of the office. If only Mr. Shaffer had allowed a camera crew to accompany her. Her paltry skills at photography would have to do.
“My apologies, ma’am. Mr. Shaffer will be joining us shortly.”
“You sure about that?”
He cleared his throat. “Um, yes, ma’am. Can I offer you some tea?”
She hid a smile. This guy had missed his era and continent. He should’ve lived in eighteenth century England.
“No, thank you. Water would be heavenly though.”
“But of course. Sparkling, bottled, or tap?”
“Is the tap good?” Being raised in Southern California, she’d hated the tap water and remembered begging her mom to put flavor in hers. Now she drank bottled.
“It is lovely, ma’am, straight out of a mountain spring.”
“Oh? Tap sounds fabulous.” She’d never had water from a real mountain spring, only the promises of one from The Fresh Water Man.
He left and she drummed her fingers on her jeans then stood and paced. Mr. Braxton returned with a glass of ice water. Maryn took a long drink and grinned at him. “Best water I’ve ever had.”
“Thank you, ma’am. Can I interest you in a novel to read while you wait?”
“Be straight with me. Is he coming?”
Mr. Braxton pressed his lips together. “I assure you he is.”
“Is he ditching me?”
Mr. Braxton’s face reddened. “No, ma’am, he’s just…
freshening up.”
Maryn tilted her head to the side. Tucker Shaffer cared to freshen up for her. That didn’t fit his persona. “Why?”
“You arrived a bit earlier than anticipated and he was…” Mr. Braxton’s mouth twisted then he spit out the word, “Sweaty.”
Maryn laughed. She always tried to be a few minutes early to appointments rather than late. “I don’t mind sweaty.” In fact, she fully appreciated a man who was willing to sweat.
“You would’ve minded this,” a deep voice rumbled from behind her.
Maryn whirled around to get her first look at Tucker Shaffer. My, oh, my. The man must’ve sweated on more than one occasion to get a build like that. Dressed in an untucked button-down shirt and jeans, he was over six feet tall with broad shoulders, a thick waist, and legs like tree trunks. She doubted anyone would dare call him overweight, but he was definitely… well-built. His dark hair was long, almost to his chin, and curled slightly. His mouth was a great shape with a bowed upper lip and full lower one and his face was that hard-working kind of handsome, the type that spent a lot of time outdoors but was still almost too good-looking. His eyes really drew her in. They were dark brown and expressive. Those eyes had stories to tell and she planned to hear them. She knew this was the interview that would guarantee her a successful career and as long as he didn’t pick her up and toss her out of here, she was definitely overstaying her welcome today.
Maryn grinned at him and took a step forward with her hand outstretched. “Mr. Shaffer?”
“Tucker,” his voice was almost a growl, like he didn’t use it very often. He walked across the room and engulfed her smaller hand with his. Maryn wondered if she’d ever liked a handshake as much as she liked this one. He cleared his throat and his voice was clearer this time, but still deep enough that a little thrill of pleasure rushed through her. “You’re Ms. Howe?”
“Maryn to you.” She gave him a saucy wink.
The Daring One: A Billionaire Bride Pact Romance Page 13
