Tethered Love (The Knot Duet Book 2)

by M. Mabie

  Walking toward the big oak doors of McClelland’s office, I realized I didn’t feel powerful at all. Not without her.

  “Good morning,” his receptionist said. “Mr. McClelland is expecting you Mr. Warren. Please, go on in.”

  “Thank you,” I said and straightened my suit before I opened the door. Not far inside, he sat at a long table with seats for ten.

  “Hello, Mr. McClelland,” I said, and he stood to shake my hand. He took his glasses off and sat them on the manila folder before him.

  “Hello, Reggie. I hope you had a good weekend, and you’re ready to get to work.”

  Yes, I’d had a weekend, and I was at work, but mostly I was numb.

  “Take a seat. We have a few things to discuss. I wanted to talk to you in private before you attend your first board meeting where your promotion will be announced.” He pulled out the sides of his glasses again and slipped them on as he opened the folder.

  “I’m sure you’ve read the fraternization policy we have here. I spoke with Ms. Koehl myself on Friday, and she requested that I go over it with you again. What we’re offering you hinges on your ability to follow it.”

  He slid the sheet of paper across the desk to me. I’d seen it before. I’d signed one when I started.

  “To be frank, while we’re alone, by accepting our offer today, you understand that you’ll only ever have a professional relationship with Ms. Koehl moving forward. You’ll never approach her in a romantic capacity. This was made very clear by her. Of course, we understand there are circumstances that are amendable, but she was adamant about this.”

  I pretended to read the paper, and he gave me a minute.

  Her terms.

  She was doing the same thing I had when I left her. She was trying to hand me the world, but it wasn’t a world worth much to me alone. My dad’s words rang in my ears.

  You have to let people share with you. That’s when you’re winning. That’s when you have it all.

  He cleared his throat and continued, “You’ll be promoted to senior partner effective immediately, and we’ll have your things moved up here. You’ll be asked to distribute your smaller accounts to the junior associates who you think will do well with them, under your supervision for the time being. Koehl Worldwide will be your major focus, it is a vast, extremely complex account, which we feel you’ll handle well considering how all of your other accounts have flourished.”

  But I’d never have Nora.

  “I will let you know this is a one-time offer. If you decide to reject it, then Ms. Koehl has assured us she will be taking her business elsewhere—due to her lack of confidence in us caused by Mr. Beckham and her prior consultant.”

  “And the position you offered me?” I asked, knowing what he’d say.

  “It will go away.”

  All or nothing.

  Nothing or everything.

  I couldn’t do it—not like this.

  “No, thank you.”

  THIRTY-THREE

  PRESENT

  NORA—Wednesday, September 22, 2010

  “No, thank you, Laura. I’ve had enough coffee,” I said at the stainless steel island in the kitchen.

  She still spent a lot of time there, training Mateo, the new house chef. Therefore, I was there with them a lot as we discussed plans. He was doing great but was still learning our ordering process. We were coming into ski season, and planning for dinner parties was one thing. Planning meals and snacks for a full house was another.

  “Nora, I just let Reagan Warren through the gate,” Loris said as she rounded the corner out of breath like he’d ran to tell me.

  Reagan is here?

  My heart raced.

  What does that mean?

  “Um. Okay? Okay. Oh my God. Okay.” I stood. I didn’t know what to think. I wasn’t sure what I was walking into, but he wouldn’t have flown all this way to fight. Right? “I’ll be back.”

  I damn near ran to the front door—thankfully without injury—and opened it to see him—in the flesh—climbing the steps.

  “Hi,” he said and stopped on the stone ledge below when I appeared. He wore a grey tweed coat, a crisp white shirt, and jeans. His hair had been cut, and he looked like the day I met him. The air in my lungs disappeared, and I gasped for new.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked.

  He scratched the back of his neck. “I’m here for a job.”

  A what? He had a job. A damn good job. I made sure of that.

  “I don’t understand,” I said.

  “I didn’t accept a position at my former job, and therefore I know you have an opening.” Reagan’s deep brown eyes glistened in the morning sun and put his hands in his pockets.

  “That can’t be. I’m sure I would have heard. I was told you would be in contact with me in an email.”

  “Yes. Here I am. Contacting you.”

  “But you’re here?” My foot started to tap, I was almost too scared to process what he was saying.

  “I’m here to apply, if you’ll meet with me.” He smiled and dipped his head. “But the interview might run long, so if you’re busy, I can come back.” I looked behind him at the cab that was still running.

  “No. I...I have time,” I stammered through my thick throat.

  The tension in his shoulders eased, and he smiled. “Okay. Good. Let’s take a ride.”

  “What?”

  “I have some things I’d like to make good on—improve. Nora, I’d like to take you on a very expensive cab ride and see if I can do it a little bit better this time.” He bit his lip and swallowed, his Adam’s apple doing that thing it always did to me.

  I didn’t know what to do.

  Did he only want a job? Or did he want me, too?

  Tears ran down my cheeks. I was so afraid.

  He held a hand up to me and whispered, “Come on, baby. Trust me. I love you. Get in the cab.”

  I grinned, and he beamed just for me with glassy eyes. Loving the sound of that pushy asshole bossing me around again, one of my hands caught my sob, and the other went into his.

  “Are you sure I can do this?” I asked stepping down to him.

  “No. We can. We’re going to try, damn it.”

  When I was at his side, he hugged me and said, “Thank you,” into my hair. The scent of him was satisfying. I’d missed him so terribly.

  When I got into the car, the driver gave me friendly wave as he set his phone down on the seat.

  Reagan climbed into the car beside me and said, “Okay.” Then we moved. As I was fastening my seat belt, he moved my hands away and pulled me closer to his side, then fastened me into the center. He pulled his belt across his chest and lap as I watched him.

  Is this really happening?

  “First off, I want you to know my name is Reggie Warren, that’s what my family calls me. I can be a bastard, and I like things done my way.” He offered me his right hand across his chest, I grabbed with my shaking hand and shook it.

  He called himself Reggie, and for some reason it made me feel like after all this time, I was home. I blew out a breath through my tear-stained face on quivering lips.

  I felt so much relief, I could barely catch my breath.

  He kissed the inside of my wrist.

  I swiped at my cheek and sat straighter.

  “My name is Nora Koehl, I have commitment issues, and I’m stubborn. I’m not good at relationships.”

  We hit a bump and Reggie broke eye contact to see what happened, then said to the driver, “You can slow down. We’re not in any hurry.” Then, he turned back to me. “I have terrible anxiety.”

  “I know.” When I had his full attention again, I asked, “So you’re interested in a position with Koehl Worldwide?”

  “Yes, I’m unemployed,” he answered quickly. “I will tell you though, I’m only interested in a fulltime position. Night. Weekends. Round the clock service.”

  My laugh came out as a bustling hum. “Oh, yeah?”

  “No halfw
ay this time, Nora,” he said, but he wasn’t demanding. “I am who you need. I can manage anything you set in front of me. I can do your books. I can make your toes curl, or bring you ice packs when you hurt them. I can peel your oranges. I can make you laugh—I think we’re both in agreement that I’m funny.”

  “And handsome,” I added.

  “Yes, thank you for that, my mother—who you will meet—will agree with you.” His words tickled me.

  “Did you read all of those emails?” I asked knowing some of them were downright spiteful, but most were simply a way to have him when he was out of reach.

  “I read the first one. Fuck you, too—by the way. But, here you are, in a cab with this bossy prick. I never told you this—and I should have a long time ago. After I drove to the airport on New Year’s Day, I turned around and came back—twice actually—but when I heard you talking to Janel and Ives, I left again. You were right. I should have fought harder. I should have at least called. You don’t have to worry about any of that anymore.”

  “I don’t?” I was shocked.

  He’d come back?

  His arm wrapped around the back of the seat and held me close as we watched each other’s faces.

  “Nope. I should have never left you like that. Part of the salary I’m requesting for the job is forgiveness. If you really want me to hear those thoughts in the account you created, I want you to say them to me. To speak them to me. What I need hasn’t changed. For you to talk to me, give me your body, and want me back.”

  “You want that as part of your salary?”

  He nodded.

  I didn’t want to be in the cab anymore, with someone else listening. “Can we go back and discuss this. Just us.” I couldn’t help the hope that washed over my heart. I wasn’t sure what my future held, but for the first time, he was in it to stay.

  “As long as, this time, we leave this cab as an us. I don’t care to label anything else. No more monogamous. No more polyamorous. No more anything. Just us. I like trying new things with you, but that shit doesn’t matter to me anymore.”

  “Okay,” I said and pushed my arm between him and the seat, around him.

  “You can take us back now, please,” he asked the driver.

  When we got out of the new most expensive cab ride I’d ever been on, we pulled his luggage out of the trunk, into the house, and down the hall to the master wing. He had four suitcases.

  “This is a lot of stuff,” I noted.

  “I’m not going anywhere without you anymore, Nora.” We wheeled them into the closet, and he pulled out the rack he’d used before. That sounded good. I didn’t want to be anywhere he wasn’t anyway.

  “I have to live here,” I said. “I can’t manage this place from Chicago, Reagan.”

  “I understand that, and another part of my salary is lodging. If I’m working for you—twenty-four/seven—I’ll need somewhere to stay. I’ve decided I’ll accept your bed.”

  My heart filled in all the empty spaces with faith. My faith came from him. He had it all figured out.

  “You really quit?” I asked. “I can’t believe it.”

  He was putting his socks into one of my empty drawers but quit to answer me.

  “It wasn’t dramatic, Nora. I told him that I couldn’t accept anything that made me agree that we’d only ever be professional. I couldn’t sign my name to it. He was right though; I can handle your business. We will handle your business. We will keep my condo, or we can sell it.”

  He came to me and lifted both of my hands.

  We. That was one thing he and I had never tried.

  “The point is we are more powerful. We are stronger as us. We can have it all. Together. I don’t have shit without you. I don’t want anything for myself anymore. It’s worth nothing if I can’t share it with you. My half doesn’t feel very valuable without yours. It doesn’t have a damn thing to do with money or a title on my letterhead. Relationships aren’t about one person. It’s about us.”

  It didn’t matter anymore. He gave himself to me. I could do the same.

  “I love you, Reggie,” I said.

  The lines in his forehead relaxed, and he said, “I know, but it’s really fucking good to hear.”

  He lifted me into his arms and carried me to our bed. I didn’t worry about what he wanted or what I wanted any more. We wanted each other.

  He worked my body short of beautiful madness, starting at my feet and moving northward. I kissed his neck as he pushed inside me.

  My fingers passed over his warm skin, and he was where he belonged.

  His scent in my lungs. His taste on my lips. His strong hand on my breast, the other behind my head.

  His voice gruff and full of that perfect masculine timbre I adored.

  “I love you. God, I love you. I’ll never let you go, Nora. I’ll never leave you,” he roared.

  I believed him and nothing else mattered.

  THIRTY-FOUR

  PRESENT

  REAGAN—Wednesday, September 22, 2010

  “I’ll never leave you. I love you, too,” she moaned as I felt her tighten around me. “I don’t want to live without you ever again.”

  Fuck, those were perfect words. I pushed with my knees into her as far as I could. Her legs wrapped around me, and she arched her back into my every thrust as they became more fevered and rushed.

  I didn’t hold back, I fucked her without a care in the world. I didn’t have worry. I didn’t have stress. There was no anxiety or room for debate. We would make it.

  So many times over the years, I’d wanted to slow down and hold us there—but I knew in that bed in Switzerland, without uncertainty, there’d always be a next time. There’d sure as fuck be a least one more time that night, and probably a few in the morning.

  Most of all, there were more chances for me to tell her I loved her and prove it.

  “I’m coming, Reggie,” she panted and held on, her eyes on me. “I’m yours. All of me.” Then, they flickered closed, and she was lost to her climax. She was beautiful, and I came from the sight of her alone.

  “IF LAST NIGHT WAS YOUR interview, Mr. Warren, I think we’ll have to go over a few of those things again,” she said laying on my chest the next morning.

  I rolled on top of her and pinned her hands over her head. Her grey eyes caught fire.

  You like that, baby?

  “I’ll try to keep my resume updated. Actually,” I added kissing her neck, “there are a few things I may have left off.”

  She laughed a little then quickly stifled it. “Really? I think you’re already overqualified.”

  “Well then, Ms. Koehl, please hire this poor fucker already, and put me out of my misery.” My free hand moved between her legs, and her mouth fell slack. She fought to hold onto her train of thought as I distracted her.

  “Um. Don’t you want to talk about your real salary?”

  “We already talked about my salary. You’re good for it.” My tongue licked up her neck to her ear, and I bit at her lobe until she moaned.

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  “Yes, what, baby?” My hips rolled into hers, my dick hard and ready.

  “You’re hired. You can start tomorrow. We’re taking today off. I need to feed my bear.”

  EPILOGUE

  REAGAN—MONDAY, DECEMBER 16, 2013

  Nora and I took many vacations to see my family, but they were visiting us for the holidays that year, and she didn’t book anything for the house for their two-week stay. My brother and sister were coming, too.

  We couldn’t wait to see Wake, Blake and Casey’s toddler, and spend the holidays with our loved ones.

  Even Vivian was coming. Nora always went on about how her mom was a snob, but I liked her.

  Her brothers were still distant, but they were beginning to come around more, too.

  Nora wiggled her toe at the end of the couch, as she watched, for the first time, the greatest holiday movie ever—Die Hard. It had taken a while to convince her it wasn�
�t scary.

  I loved her more and more. I held her tighter and ran my hand over her ring, thinking about how blessed we were for our life.

  I couldn’t remember the last time I’d counted backward from ten—if you excluded when we did it together to ring in a new year. Sure, I still had anxiety, and sometimes I had to take my medication, but it was back to a stable, as needed basis.

  She never called it her money or her company anymore. It was all ours.

  Together.

  Surprisingly, she was easy to work with. She stayed focused on what she loved—the hospitality side of Koehl Worldwide—and I did my thing. I was a king who loved increasing my queen’s empire.

  We’d taken many trips, and from time to time we’d discussed marriage, but it never fit us just right. When we were in San Tropez the past spring—looking at a property for Koehl Worldwide, which later we named Le Freesia—we’d bought rings. That night, sharing an expensive bottle of wine, we told each other how much we loved each other and exchanged them.

  It was that simple. We’d made the mistake of complicating things that didn’t need it. We’d learned our lessons.

  She’d said in one of her emails, which she eventually read to me—along with hundreds of others—she didn’t know if she liked the idea of a wedding because it seemed so temporary to her. She thought if people were meant to be together forever, they simply would be.

  After everything we’d been through, I agreed.

  However, it felt almost matrimonial when she slipped a titanium band over my finger, the smell of fresh freesia in the air, and said, “You’re my last lover. I don’t need anyone but you. Forever.”

  When I slid her ring along her long finger, I replied, “You love me better than anyone else can. You are my happiness. You are my love.”

  We were us. No more singular labels. No more insecurities. No more painful goodbyes.