MILES (The Billionaire Croft Brothers, Book Two)

by Paige North

  I check the time on my phone. It’s almost nine. Hopefully a call from me won’t disturb Dominic’s evening routine with his son. I take one more sip of my drink then leave the rest on the counter. I need a clear head to talk to him—and to drive Simone home.

  When I reach her side, I touch her upper arm. She opens her eyes and gives me a crooked smirk. “I knew you’d be out here soon enough.”

  The thunking bass of the dance song playing fills the space around us, and it’s suddenly too loud and annoying.

  “I’m sorry, but I gotta go,” I tell her in a loud voice.

  “What? Did you say you want to leave?” A deep frown line separates her brow. “But we haven’t been here very long, and the crowd is just starting to pick up.”

  “I know.” I cup her elbow to lead her off the floor. I’m tired of yelling over the music. “I need to be honest. The thing is, I have feelings for someone else. And being out with you tonight…it isn’t the right thing for me at this time.”

  She tilts her head and looks at me. I can see disappointment on her face, but she gives a slow, knowing nod. “Yeah, I kinda figured something was going on. You don’t seem like you’ve really been ‘here’ all night. Lucky girl. I hope she realizes what she’s got.”

  “The issue isn’t her, it’s me.”

  Her eyebrow raises. “I guess I can believe that.” She laughs. “You can be an asshole sometimes.”

  “Hey!” I say in mock protest. I know she’s right though. Gotta love her bluntness.

  “In all seriousness, that’s fine, you can go. I’m gonna stay here though. I’ll get a cab home. I’m not ready to call it a night yet. For a Monday, this place is hoppin’.” Simone’s perfect lips part and she gives me a genuine smile. She reaches over and squeezes my arm. “Good luck, and if you’re ever single again…” She winks.

  “You sure? I don’t mind driving you home.” I know she can hear the concern in my voice. I don’t feel right leaving her alone.

  “I’m a big girl. I can make my own decisions—I have been for much longer than I’ve known you, mister.” There’s a challenge in her voice.

  I raise my hands in defeat. “You got it. Get home safe and please. Watch out for these animals—they’re not all good guys like me.”

  She rolls her eyes and laughs. “Fine, Dad. Go. I’ll be okay.” With that, she spins around and heads back into the crowd.

  I watch her for a moment longer, then grab my coat from the coat rack, turn, and head out the door. The air is frigid, and the walk to my car feels like it takes far longer than it does. My stomach is churning once again. I shove my hand into my pocket to dig out my keys.

  Once I get in my car, I crank the heat on and just sit there for a minute. I need to clear my head and figure out what the hell I want to say to Dominic. Surely he’ll be able to help me not make a total fuckup of this once again.

  God, I’m such an asshole. A stupid, stupid asshole. Emme was mine, all mine, and I pushed her away because of my old shit. Despite the fact that I read her diary, saw how she felt about me in her honest and vulnerable and private words, words she never intended for me to see.

  Despite the fact that she told me she loved me without hearing it in return.

  How many ways could Emme risk her own heart and show me how she felt in order for me to believe in it? Is it too late? Has she started getting over me?

  My heart splinters at the thought.

  And then it hits me that I don’t need to talk to Dominic about this.

  I don’t need a goddamn committee to tell me how I feel about Emme.

  I already know what I need to do; all he’s going to say is what everyone else would say to me. I have to stop shutting her out and trust her, have to let that old shit go. Emme gave me everything, though I don’t deserve it, and in return, I’ve continually shortchanged her, not made her feel special and valuable.

  My condo is quiet and lonely every night when I get home from work, and I don’t want to fucking live this way anymore. I want to see her beautiful head on my pillow. I want her wearing my T-shirt when she putters around my place in the morning while I make us breakfast. I want to watch movies with her and find out everything she loves. And I want to give her all those things she deserves.

  Emme’s worth the risk.

  I put my Bluetooth on and dial a number. Before I talk to Emme, I have somewhere else I need to start first. Someone who deserves my efforts as well.

  The phone rings. “Hello?” my mom says, a thread of concern in her tone. “I wasn’t expecting to hear from you so late, Dane. Everything okay?”

  “Everything is fine. I’m sorry I didn’t write you back,” I say. I draw in a slow breath, exhale through my nostrils. I turn the car right and head toward my place. The vise grip around my lungs is easing up, though my heart is beating faster from nervousness. “I’ve been thinking…and I’d like to accept your offer to come to Thanksgiving.”

  She’s silent for a moment. “I’d love to have you there. I want to be clear though that it won’t be just us.”

  The tension-filled edge in her voice makes me feel guilty. I’ve led her to feeling like this by holding on to the past and not trying to forgive and let go. “I know they’ll be there. And that’s okay, too.”

  There’s a small sniffle. Her voice is clogged with tears and it trembles as she says, “Oh, Dane. Thank you, so much. I really appreciate it. I’ll make all your favorite things, okay? Just let me know what you want.”

  “It’s fine. I don’t expect a big fuss. You just do what you do.”

  Her voice is choked with emotion as she thanks me and tells me yet again how happy she is that I’m going to be there. I’m smiling as we get off the phone, feeling that heavy weight falling from my shoulders.

  A weight so heavy I’d forgotten I was carrying it all this time. And to think, all I ever needed to do was put it down.

  Now I focus on getting home. I need to get to bed early. I want to be well rested and bring my A-game when I talk to Emme tomorrow. And pray it isn’t too late.

  Dane

  I get to the office early, to make sure I’m there a little bit before Emme’s supposed to arrive. I type out my message in a new Word document, print it, then fold it in half and staple it. Then I leave it on her desk. My heart is pounding so hard the sound fills my ears, and I’m surprised to find my hands shaking.

  When’s the last time I’ve been this nervous?

  Oh, probably the last time I put everything on the line. No big deal, right?

  I put my coat on and leave the building. The sky is overcast but it isn’t as bitter cold outside. Still, I feel raw from the risk of finally admitting my true feelings to myself and to her. She might say no. She might be done with me, unwilling to give me another chance.

  I push those thoughts out of my head. I can’t think like that.

  The walk to the coffee shop on the corner is slow. I move with purpose into the warm building, the door dinging as I open it. I’m flooded with the scents and sounds of fresh coffee being brewed.

  The barista, Charlotte, is young and friendly, always has a big smile on her face. “Hi, Dane!” Yeah, I’m a regular here. I’m sure it helps that I tip her well—I enjoy getting good service. “What can I get ya this morning? The usual?”

  I nod. “Sounds good.” Maybe the drink will help settle my nerves some.

  “One tall black coffee, cream and two sugars, coming right up.” She rings me out, then pours the drink and hands it to me.

  I make my way to a table near the massive front window and sit down, strip off my coat and hang it over my chair. Pry the lid off the coffee and let it cool down for a minute. Deliberate actions to help distract me from thinking about what I’m waiting for.

  Yet my brain still keeps hammering one phrase over and over again: Will she come?

  I just don’t know, and that scares the hell out of me.

  Minutes pass. I fight the urge to look at the time on my phone every three seconds or
so. Fuck, this is real agony. I’m feeling it far more than I had with that first note I left her, instructing her to finger herself in the bathroom. My job was on the line then.

  My heart is on the line now, and the stakes are higher than they’ve ever been for me before.

  Finally I can’t take it anymore. I check the time. It’s ten after. She’s late.

  Or she’s just not coming.

  My stomach sinks. I sip my coffee and struggle to get my rampant heart rate to calm the fuck down. I knew this might happen, despite my hope otherwise. But she’s worth the effort and risk. If it takes another way to reach her, then I’ll do it. Maybe I can camp out at her apartment or something. Make her hear me out.

  The café door dings, and my heart skips a beat as I look up.

  A round guy with a baseball cap strolls in. He heads right for the counter.

  Time for me to go. I stand and try not to give into the frustration threatening to spill out. I’m not mad at her; I’m mad at me, because I’m the reason I’m here alone. She doesn’t know how I feel, and it’s my job to make sure she does.

  If she decides after that to still stay away, I will respect her choice. Or at least try to, even though it might kill me.

  As I shrug on my coat, the door dings again, and Emme walks in, her hair tousled, her cheeks flushed. Her gaze darts around the room and lands on me.

  Time seems to stop as our eyes lock. Everything I’m feeling for her comes roaring right back to the surface. The intensity almost bowls me over. Now that I know I’ve fallen for her, it makes things so much clearer, much less confusing.

  Her steps are halting as she comes toward me, and she has the paper in her grip. I want to reach over and touch her, kiss her, but I restrain myself. Words first. And then, if I’m the fucking luckiest guy ever, I’ll be able to taste her again.

  “Can I get you a drink?” I ask her.

  She shakes her head and licks her lips. “I don’t need more caffeine, but thanks.” She slips into the chair across from me, and I drop back down into my seat. She leaves the paper on the table and drops her hands to her lap. Her gaze skitters all around the room, and a low flush rises even higher on her cheeks.

  She’s so fucking pretty it takes my breath away. Pretty and nervous as hell. I want to wrap her in my arms, take away all her sadness.

  “I wasn’t sure you’d come,” I admit.

  “I wasn’t sure I would either. I almost didn’t.” Emme looks at me. “What would you have done if I hadn’t?”

  “I would have tried again.” My throat tightens and I swallow, the words struggling to come out. It’s so easy to tell her all the things I want to do to her body. So much harder finding the right way to express how she makes me feel. I tried to write it out last night, thinking I could leave it as a note for her, but I wanted her to see my face as I talk to her. Not just hide behind text.

  She fills the silence. “Your note didn’t tell me what you wanted to speak about. I’m assuming this isn’t a work-related discussion, since you asked me to meet you here.” Her words are stilted.

  “No, it’s not.” I draw in a breath.

  “Dane, I’m job hunting,” she blurts out before I can continue. I see the pulse at the base of her throat throb. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to work here anymore, and I figured I should just tell you so you can start finding someone to replace me. I just…I can’t do this anymore.”

  She’s leaving. My stomach sinks hard, and I grip the table to fight back the wave of despair that floods me. I didn’t think it would come to this.

  She lets out a soft exhale. “I’m sorry.”

  “I know why you’re leaving—because I messed this all up. But I don’t want you to go. Every day I’ve been without you has been hell.” My words are raw, and I let them pour out in a rush. “You gave me your heart and I didn’t realize how precious that gift was until I lost it. Until I blew it,” I amend. “I want you, Emme. Plain and simple.”

  Her eyes fill with tears, and she blinks several times. Her face is filled with such grief it makes my heart ache. “But I need more than that, and you’re still so in love with your ex-wife that I’m never going to get it. I want you too, but I—”

  “Wait, what? I’m not in love with her,” I interrupt.

  She swallows, confusion clear in her expression. “But…she’s the reason why you’re unable to trust people. Why you can’t have more than a physical relationship. Right?”

  I unclench my jaw. How the hell did she come to that conclusion? Still in love with Marianne? The idea is crazy. I reach over and take the hand she has resting on the tabletop. It’s warm and fits my hand perfectly. I don’t want to let it go. “No, Emme. I don’t love her, if I ever did. Things with us went bad early on in our marriage. In fact, I don’t really think about her anymore. My fear of trust is more in regards to my brother now than her. But I’m ready to let that go and stop letting it consume me.”

  “Oh.” Her lips remain parted as she mulls this over. “I thought… Well, when you told me that morning that you couldn’t let go of your past, I thought it was because you still have unresolved feelings for her.”

  I squeeze her fingers and stroke her soft skin. Her wall is dropping again, though I can still see uncertainty in her expression. She isn’t sure what to believe.

  I suck in a deep breath and exhale, forcing myself to push past the last bit of reserve in me. Do or die time. “There’s no possible way I have feelings for her, because every bit of space in my heart belongs to you.”

  She freezes, not blinking, not breathing.

  “I can’t stop thinking about you. Wanting you. Craving you. Missing you.” The words tumble out of me; her hand shakes in mine, but she grips me tighter, and I continue speaking now—unable to stop. “You’ve shown me what it feels like to care again, to stop being afraid of getting hurt. And I know I’ve fucked up badly, but I get it now. You need someone who shows you you’re worth the effort, who gives you a hundred percent. Let me be that man, because I don’t know how I can go through another day without you in my life.”

  She bites her lower lip, her eyes wide, the brims filling with tears. “I…can hardly believe I’m hearing this.” She gives an embarrassed laugh and swipes at the wetness with her other hand. Her fingers are trembling; her whole body is trembling now.

  I get up and take the chair right beside her. Her body falls against mine, and I rest my chin on the top of her head, pull her into my arms. For the first time in seventeen days, I feel a sense of peace.

  I press a kiss to her forehead, then down her cheeks to her mouth. My desire for her comes screaming to the surface, but I push it back. This moment isn’t about wanting to fuck her. Next time I have her, it will be making love, me not holding anything back.

  But before I can get there, I have to show her I’m serious. That I’m in this.

  She smells so fucking good. I breathe deeply and tip my head down to her ear. “Tell me I’m not too late.”

  “You’re not too late.” The reply is whispered, but it’s loud in my head.

  I cling to the words and take her mouth in another kiss, this time slipping my tongue between the seam of her lips. I taste her, drink her in. “I’m falling so fucking hard for you,” I say against her mouth.

  “I love you,” she says back, and the shredded pieces of my heart seem to fuse back together again. Stronger than ever.

  I keep her against me as I make myself pull out of the kiss. It’s so hard though, because I want to bend her over this table and fuck her until she can’t breathe from exhaustion. Later. I’ll touch her whole body. First we need to figure out the work shit, because I don’t know where she is in her job hunt, or if she really still needs to go.

  I want it to be her decision though.

  I’m not my father. I want this woman to feel empowered, not used. And if that means she works somewhere else, I’ll make sure I give her the best fucking reference ever. I’ll call in favors and help her find her d
ream job.

  But I’m not letting her go.

  “You said you’re job hunting,” I start.

  She nods and glances up at me. I can see all her love and emotion shining through her eyes, and it’s a balm to my soul. I can’t resist pressing another kiss to her lips. “I started right after the trip, actually.” A flush works its way up her throat and across her cheeks. “I, uh, felt it might be better for both of us if I left.”

  My body stiffens, but I fight the reaction. “I don’t know what this will mean for us work-wise, but I want to be with you, out in the open. Not through notes, not just through secrecy and illicit meetings in conference rooms. Don’t get me wrong—if you still want that, I won’t turn it down.” I give her a smirk, and she laughs, bumping her shoulder against my chest. “So if it makes you feel more comfortable working elsewhere, or under another manager, that’s fine with me.”

  She pauses and nibbles on her lower lip for a moment. “I hadn’t intended to be your assistant forever, and I wanted to explore my options anyway after I graduated. But I love working at Rossi Design. I feel like I’m finally finding my ground, and I’m making friends. Plus, going to Sanderson’s site with you was exciting—I want to be a part of that if I can.”

  “Then we’ll keep you there as long as you want to be, but just not working for me anymore. Though I don’t know if I’ll find another assistant as savvy as you.”

  “Oh, stop it.” Her mouth curls into a shy smile.

  “Maybe you can work with Carl,” I muse out loud, laughing when she digs her finger into my side to tickle me.

  “If that’s the case, I’m quitting right now,” she declares.

  “I know. He’s difficult to deal with, but his clients seem to like him.”