Going All the Way (Kiss the Bride #1)

by Cynthia Cooke

  She stared at him, at the new lines etched in his face, at the puffiness of sleepless nights under his eyes. She softened. “So what’s the truth now? What do you want, really?”

  “I want you to come back. Our stock is plummeting, and everything I’ve built is in jeopardy.”

  Tension knotted her shoulders at the panic in his voice. Why was she always the one to pull him down off the cliff? “I’m here, aren’t I? You already have me back. I’ll help you as much as I can on this one account,” she said gently, when what she really wanted to do was usher him right out the door. And quick, before he sucked her back in.

  “That’s not what I mean. Not what I need. Or at least, that’s not all I need.” He stepped closer, his gaze imploring.

  She stiffened, looking deep into his dark eyes. Eyes she had once thought she’d love forever. But forever didn’t last very long. “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying things haven’t been the same for me since you left. I’ve been floating loose. I need you to ground me, to keep me on track. I need you. I want you back.”

  Her stomach tensed. She couldn’t deal with this, not now. She could barely keep her own life from flying apart; she certainly couldn’t take care of him, too. “You make me sound like a good, strong rope.”

  “Like I said, I’m not good at this stuff.”

  That was the understatement of the year. He wasn’t good at people—at caring about what they need, or how they were feeling. No, as usual it was all about Stu. With Ryan, things were different. She could see that so clearly now. Even if she was afraid of losing herself in him, she wouldn’t lose who she was. Unlike Stu, Ryan was strong enough on his own that even if she gave all of herself to him, she wouldn’t lose who she was. She could still be Carrie. With him, she could be stronger.

  “Carrie?” he said, pulling her from her thoughts.

  “Where is all this coming from?” she asked. “I’ve been gone two years. I barely heard from you in all that time.”

  “I know. I didn’t know how much I missed you, how much I needed you, until I saw you with that ridiculous dog that day in the park.”

  “Riley? I love Riley.”

  “Fine. You can bring him home with you if you want,” he offered.

  “Home? Your home?” she asked with a note of incredulity.

  “Our home.”

  She shook her head. “I can’t bring him anywhere. He’s Ryan’s, not mine.”

  Stu’s forehead crinkled, his eyes narrowing. “Ryan? From work?”

  “Yes. As you know, he lives next door.”

  “Even better, you can still visit,” Stu said without missing a beat. He reached for her hands, stepped close, and peered into her eyes with that same intensity that had won her over in college. When he’d set his sights on her, he hadn’t let up until she was his. He was a man who didn’t stop until he got what he wanted. It was an attractive trait, and he’d made it so easy to get caught up in his world, his energy, but now she knew better.

  She dropped his hands and took a step back from him. “Things didn’t go well for us the last time we were together.”

  He closed the space between them. “Because I didn’t appreciate what I had. I didn’t value you. I do now. I know who you are and what you mean to me, and I will never let you forget it again.”

  She shook her head. This was getting out of control. “I’m seeing someone,” she said, grasping for the first thing she could think of to get him to back away.

  “Ryan Burton?” he asked, looking incredulous.

  “Yes.”

  “Is it serious?”

  Was it? Yes, she wanted to say, but didn’t. She wasn’t ready. Not yet. And certainly not to Stu. “I don’t know. It’s too soon to tell. We’ve only just met and we don’t know each other very well.” That was putting it mildly. But she still couldn’t stop thinking about him. And after last night…she didn’t want to.

  “Do you still love me?” he asked, moving closer, and slipping his hands around her waist.

  She placed her hands over his and gently extricated them. “Stu, I was married to you. I’ll always love you.”

  He looked triumphant. “See?”

  Riley whined. She turned to look at him and saw Ryan standing in the doorway, a look of thunder in his eyes.

  …

  Ryan stood rooted to the spot, stunned to see Stu’s hands on Carrie’s waist, his lips nearing her face. If Stu kissed her, he would lose it.

  “Ryan,” Carrie said when she saw him, her face filled with dread as she took a quick step back.

  What the hell is going on here? He wanted to yell, but didn’t. He kept his mouth shut even though his insides were tying themselves in knots from holding it all in. He couldn’t believe he fell for it all. He knew better, knew there was something between her and Stu, and still he let himself hope.

  “Stu came by to check on our progress,” she said, with a bright smile.

  A blatant lie. He heard what Stu wanted. He wanted her back.

  “So you’ve been banging my ex?” Stu said, taking a step toward him.

  Carrie gasped, a look of horror on her face. Ryan stared at her, and a chill moved through him. Why would she be upset? Because the secret was out? Or because she didn’t want Stu to know about them? Her words came back to him. We only just met, and we don’t know each other very well. Apparently he didn’t know her at all.

  “Don’t you think that’s a tad bit unprofessional?” Stu pushed, while Ryan did everything he could to swallow his tongue, to keep from lashing out at the man. From saying what he really wanted to say—Stu Steinhem was a first class jackass.

  “I must say,” Stu continued. “Burton Consulting has been a huge disappointment. First off, you couldn’t come up with an advertising campaign to save your life, or your job, for that matter. And the lack of professionalism is completely unacceptable.”

  The dam broke and a flood of anger washed over him. “My lack of professionalism? You treat your employees, and apparently your ex-wife, like dirt. Nothing is ever good enough, and you push them to the breaking point.”

  Stu stiffened, taking a large step toward him. “Excuse me?”

  “Do I need to spell it out for you? What you need is a class in how to motivate and keep your employees. Or let’s see, management 101,” Ryan added, digging the hole deeper.

  “I’ve heard just about enough,” Stu stated, blustering toward him.

  “Have you? Because considering you’re here pressuring your ex to come back to you when we all know she’d rather walk through fire and eat glass says it all.”

  Stu’s face reddened under the onslaught of insults. “How dare you?”

  “Ryan, this is between me and Stu,” Carrie started, rushing toward them. Riley whined and ran to her side.

  “Is it?” Ryan asked. “Because it seems to me this needs to be said and for some reason, you won’t say it. You won’t tell him what he needs to hear—that he’s an overbearing, arrogant dick. And yet, you go running every time he snaps his fingers? Why is that? What kind of weird dysfunctional hold does he have over you?”

  “That’s enough,” Stu stated. “You will not talk to her that way.”

  “I won’t? Now you’re going to tell me what I will say and who I will say it to? You’re a user, Stu. You use up everyone around you until they have nothing left to give, then you throw them away.”

  “How dare you talk to me like that? You know nothing about me, and nothing about Carrie.”

  “Don’t I?” he challenged.

  “You’re fired. I want you out,” Stu spat. “Out of my company, out of my house, and most of all, away from my wife!” Stu yelled, and brought his fist into Ryan’s gut.

  Before he could hit him again, Ryan retaliated, quick and powerful. A one shot slam. “Ex-wife!” Ryan roared.

  “Stop it! What is wrong with you two?” Carrie screamed, stepping in between them.

  Ryan moved back, heart pounding and adrenaline pumping.
“Don’t worry, I’m out of here. He’s all yours.”

  “Ryan! My relationship with my ex is my business. My fight!”

  “Then you should have told him to get lost.”

  She looked stunned. “Why? Because he wanted my help?”

  “I can’t deal with this, Carrie. You two obviously have some baggage you need to clear up. Call me once you do.”

  He turned and walked out of the room. He should have known better. He did know better.

  He just didn’t listen.

  He was better off with no distractions in his life. No attachments, and certainly no one close enough to cause him this much trouble. He knew that. He’d just convinced himself this time was different. That she was different.

  Obviously, he’d been wrong.

  …

  Carrie stood alone in the middle of her living room amidst the chaos of overturned furniture and shattered glass. Ryan had stormed out and Stu had followed, and as usual, she was left alone to pick up the pieces. She went over it again and again and still she didn’t know what the hell had happened. One moment she was thinking they might have a chance, and the next he turned into someone she barely recognized. But how well did she know Ryan anyway? So much for coffee together and then on to the office. She wasn’t going anywhere near that place.

  She quickly changed into her yoga pants and sports bra and decided to go on a run to try and get the anxiety out of her system. She ran full steam ahead, half hoping the whole time that she would see Ryan trudging up behind her with Riley by his side. But two miles later, he still hadn’t showed, and it was just as well. As she crossed the street back to the front of her house, she was surprised to see boxes stacked up on Ryan’s front porch. She walked up and knocked on the screened door.

  “Ryan?” she called through the screen. Riley came running toward her, barking.

  Ryan walked out of the bathroom, a box in his hand. Dread swirled in her gut.

  “What’s going on?” she asked.

  He stood on the other side of the screen without opening the door. “You heard Stu. He wants me out.”

  “What about the Costas account?” About us? She tried to ask, but couldn’t force the last question over the lump in her throat.

  “I’m going to head out to my dad’s place in Malibu. I’m sure you and the team can handle the Costas presentation. Things got a little…messy. I think it would be best after what happened this morning if I cut my losses on this one and leave.”

  “But…”

  “I’ll be in touch,” he said dismissively, and by his tone they both knew he wouldn’t be.

  She stood frozen trying to take in what was happening. But her brain felt stuffed with cotton and her stomach was bottoming out. For a quick moment fear and loss enveloped her, before she pushed it away. She would not succumb to that, not now. Not with him. She’d trusted him, even though she’d known better, and she’d let him back in. And now he was leaving her? She started to turn.

  “Carrie?”

  “Yes?”

  “Take care of yourself.” He shut the door. Take care of herself? Seriously? Was that the best he could do? After everything they’d been through?

  “You’re a coward, Ryan Burton,” she yelled through the closed door. “A chicken-shit coward.” One who was so afraid of making attachments with people he turned tail and ran every time he got close. Running from one job to the next, and now he was running from her, leaving her before she could leave him. He was an idiot and a user, and she was tired of being used. She wished she’d never met him. She swatted at her face to keep the unshed tears from falling and stormed off his porch. The man obviously had issues. To hell with him, to hell with all men. She was supposed to be focusing on herself, anyway.

  Back at home, she took out her paints and sketchbook and got to work. She had a presentation to give on Friday, and it looked like she’d be giving it by herself.

  Chapter Seventeen

  On Friday morning, Carrie pulled one of her favorite outfits from her closet and put it on. It felt good. It felt comfortable, but the best part was—it didn’t feel like a straightjacket. She was actually looking forward to the presentation. Regardless of what happened with Ryan and Stu, she’d done good work, and she was looking forward to showing it. She walked into her studio. She’d taken the time yesterday to set it up, desk and computer in the corner, easel under the window, large worktable, and a wall of her work in various states of progress.

  What she wanted to do was finally beginning to take shape. Art, all kinds. Her website was set up and would soon feature her best work—both freelance advertising and personal portraits. And not just paintings of dogs, either. While she had several now of Riley, she also had ideas for pictorials of San Francisco, Big Sur, Muir Woods. And she couldn’t wait to get started. The point was she was doing it on her own. Focusing her energy on her needs.

  She supposed she had to thank Ryan for that. He was right, she did jump every time Stu snapped his fingers. But that was on her. She only wished Ryan cared enough to be there today to see her best work—and it was her best work. She wished he’d be there for her to focus on when she faltered, because she would. She’d wanted to share the win with him when they were awarded the deal. But he’d run away instead, and that…well, that was on him.

  She closed her sketchbook and slid it into her briefcase, then picked up her jacket and headed out the door. She arrived at the Steinhem offices with only a few minutes to spare. She would give this last presentation on her last day at the company, and then she was done with the company and with Stu. Her ex-husband had called her half a dozen times after Ryan left, and she’d wanted to pick up the phone and tell him she was finished, but she hadn’t been ready to talk to him. Now, she was. It was time to end it for good.

  She would win this deal for Steinhem but she wasn’t doing it for Stu. She wasn’t even doing it for herself; she was doing it for Ryan. As angry as she was at him for leaving, she was glad he did. She wasn’t ready for a relationship. Deep down, she knew that. She wanted to get to know herself first. But she also knew how important this win was for Ryan’s company and she was going to get it for him. Then she could move on. Her horizon was wide open now. She could go anywhere she wanted, do anything.

  When she walked into the conference room, she did her best to ignore Ryan’s empty seat.

  She’d arrived just in time to see the end of Paul’s pitch to the Costas representatives. From the unimpressed expressions on their faces, she could tell it wasn’t going well. She hung in the back of the room along the wall. Stu saw her and gave her an angry look, but it was quickly overtaken by relief. He needed her, after all.

  “So you see, gentlemen,” Paul said. “We believe that focusing on a friendship campaign about Costas Chips bringing people together is a strong platform to build on for years to come.”

  Silence.

  This really wasn’t going well.

  Stu stood. “Thank you, Paul. Gentlemen, I’d like to introduce Ms. Carrie Steinhem.” He gestured toward her. “I believe she also has a quick presentation she’d like to show you.” The hopeful look on his face was priceless.

  Carrie nodded and stepped forward, moving toward the whiteboard at the front of the room. “Thank you for coming today. I’d like to add on to what the Steinhem team has already shown you, and what we at Burton Consulting have also been working on.” Stu choked in the back of the room as Carrie took her place in the spot Paul had just vacated.

  “As Paul said, the wonderful thing about the friendship campaign is we can expand on it, taking it deeper, and tugging on the heartstrings of the viewers. This campaign is not just about a snack food, but about our lives and how food plays such a major role in it.” She opened her satchel and pulled out the first sketch, placing it in the tray on the whiteboard so everyone could see it.

  “For instance, imagine three commercials. We can watch the numbers and release the ads every six to eight weeks as warranted.” She pointed at the sketc
h. “I want you to picture a puppy. Cute. Adorable. Immediately everyone is watching and connecting with this furry little guy. You see Mom walking into the kitchen from the store, unloading bags of groceries onto the table. The puppy, being the precocious little red fur ball that he is, jumps up onto the chair, grabs the bag of Costas Chips in his mouth and tears out of the kitchen. The mom calls after him, but out the doggy door he goes, bag of chips clutched between his teeth.”

  She paused, glancing around the room, making sure she had their attention. “Mom glances out the window and smiles. The camera moves to the puppy running across the lawn toward the pond in the back of the house and to a little boy about six years old sitting on the dock, his fishing pole in hand. Puppy runs to him, bringing him the chips. The boy hugs the dog, and with a huge adorable smile, opens the bag and pulls out a chip which he then gives to the puppy.”

  The men from Costas sitting at the front of the table showed a spark of interest. Dim, but a spark just the same. Carrie tried to focus on that and not on the rising tension in her stomach, or the way her throat was tightening.

  “Camera pans out, and it’s just a boy and his dog, and a bag of Costas Chips between them.”

  A few nods around the room. She cleared her throat and focused on her sketch of Riley. “Second campaign.” She pulled out another sketch and placed it in the tray next to the first one. “Same boy. Same dog. Seven or eight years later. Same house. We’re in the backyard. It’s a birthday party. Lots of kids. Lots of parents. Tables full of food. Boy can’t take his eyes off a girl talking with her friends beneath a tree. They keep looking at each other, smiling. But they’re both too shy and too nervous to talk to one another.

  “Then comes our dog. No longer a puppy, but a giant red fur ball. The camera pans to the house, and we see the dog run in through the doggie door. We already know what’s going to happen. We’re expecting it. We’re cheering for it. And here he comes, running out the door toward us, a bag of Costas Chips in his mouth. He brings them to his buddy and gives the boy the bag of chips, and a gentle nudge against his legs. The boy moves toward the girl. Opens the bag, and hands her a chip. She smiles. He smiles. Young love has blossomed all because of a dog and the bag of Costas Chips.”