The Faithful One: Billionaire Bride Pact Romance

by Checketts, Cami

  “That’s what you do when you love someone as much as I love you.”

  Zander smiled, fighting at more tears. “So, why did you send me to Montgomery?”

  “Trin.” His dad said simply.

  “You conniving father.” Zander sat back, awareness shooting through him. “You wanted me to get together with Trin.”

  “I hoped you could learn something from her dedication to the Cloverdale. She’s grounded in a way I thought would draw you in. And you’re right, I was hoping you’d see what an amazing woman she is.” He grinned. “I feel like she could be the one for you. Like your mother was for me.”

  There was no good reply for that, especially with how he left Trin last night, or was it early this morning? “Would you ever remarry, Dad?”

  He smiled, removed his hand from Zander’s arms and folded his hands together. “Well, son, now that you’re here I’d like to ask your permission.”

  “Permission?”

  “To marry Hannah. These past few years I’ve realized how much she’s come to mean to me. She’s agreed to marry me, but we wanted your approval first. She said if you came home it would be the sign that we should marry.”

  “No wonder she was so happy to see me.”

  His dad chuckled. “She’d be thrilled to see you no matter what. You know that.”

  Zander did. His dad and Hannah. It made sense. Hannah’s husband had died young and she’d raised a couple of boys who were years older than Zander on her own before coming to work for the family. He hated to think about his mom being replaced, but ten years was a long time to be alone. His dad deserved happiness, and he couldn’t think of anyone he’d rather have him with than Hannah.

  “You need to go see Trin,” his dad interrupted his thoughts.

  “I can’t, Dad. I made a huge fool of myself and she was with a great guy last night.” He shook his head, remembering Moriah’s brother stepping in front of Trin to protect her when Zander had been waiting for them on the porch. He’d heard Harrison ask her out again and she’d agreed. “It’s too late.”

  “It’s never too late, son. Don’t miss out on a minute of being with her. I’ll never regret any time I had with your mother.”

  “Dad.” He paused and studied his hands. “Trin claims I’m an addictive personality, called me co-dependent. She wanted me to figure things out before I try to be with her.” He sighed. “It made me mad that she thought she could psychoanalyze me, so I told her off and left.”

  His dad reclined into his chair. “I think we’re both that type of personality, son. I did everything for your mother in the hopes that she would spend every spare minute with me. I was obsessive about her. The psychiatrist really helped me recognize that and acknowledge that I do it in a lot of areas of my life—work for example.”

  Zander didn’t love the words he was hearing. “I went through all that therapy to overcome alcohol. I thought that was enough.”

  “Maybe it was, but there’s nothing wrong with getting some help. It’s just tough to admit you’re struggling.”

  Zander snickered. “I think anyone who knows me would recognize I’m struggling. I’ve been a mess for the past ten years.”

  His dad nodded in commiseration. “I’m right there with you.”

  Zander knew his dad was. He was thrilled that he could find happiness with Hannah.

  “Isn’t Trin worth trying to work through the issues?”

  “You know she is.”

  His dad stood. “Let’s go help Hannah in the kitchen. I’ll make an appointment with the psychiatrist for tomorrow if you’d like.”

  “Okay.” He stood and they walked arm in arm through the house. It hurt to be home, but it felt great too. When Hannah threw her arms around him again and then gave him a pinch of cookie dough, he savored the tastes, smells, and the glances he caught between Hannah and his dad. He couldn’t believe it’d taken him so long to get here, but it was the best therapy he could imagine.

  Chapter 15

  Chapter

  Trin stayed busy throughout the month of December. She trained two new front office girls, a housekeeper, and a groundskeeper. Moriah was able to focus on the baking and cooking like she loved, and Trin made her assistant manager. With her new raise, Moriah spent a lot more time with Turk and was putting away money for a down payment on their own little house. She was thrilled.

  Trin had met with a counselor at the nearby Baptist church and started working through her resentment to her mom and stepdad, and her security issues that made her think she had to work every minute of the day so she could keep her grandparents’ house. It was amazing how turning it over to the Lord had helped. She didn’t know if she could’ve done it on her own. Having faith was new, but so worth it.

  She was trying to take time for herself more also. She’d found a friend at Moriah’s church who loved tennis and they played several times a week. She’d also taken up running, trying to convince herself it wasn’t because of the connection she felt to Zander when she ran, knowing he loved it and he’d run all of these streets when he was here in November.

  She hadn’t heard from him. His dad’s communication was positive and inspiring as ever, but he didn’t say anything about Zander. Trin wondered where he was, what he was doing. Training for another race, most likely.

  Christmas Day was rainy, but after she talked to her mom and siblings, heard all about their Christmas, and thanked them for their presents, she dressed in a t-shirt and fitted running pants and laced up her shoes. She was going to dinner at Moriah’s house later; she hoped things wouldn’t be awkward with Harrison. She’d told him no when he asked her out a couple of days ago. He was one of the best young men she knew, but he wasn’t Zander.

  She had the morning all to herself. They’d blocked out a couple days before and after Christmas to have no guests at the bed and breakfast. They were booked up again three days after Christmas, but it was nice to have things quiet today. The house could easily have filled for the holidays, but Mr. Keller had reminded her that the Cloverdale was in the black and it was okay to not work all the time.

  Trin jogged through the quiet, wet streets. It seemed almost otherworldly with the sun breaking through the clouds in the distance, but drizzle falling all around her. She went a few miles then turned back home. As she neared the bed and breakfast, she noticed a black Mercedes in the driveway. She resented someone interrupting her solitude this morning. She wanted to think about Christmas, the Savior, and how much she missed Zander, not have to turn away a guest who should’ve made travel plans much earlier than Christmas Day.

  The car door popped open when she was still a couple of houses away. Trin squinted as long, lean legs swung out of the door, followed by a muscular frame and handsome face she would recognize anywhere.

  “Zander!” she screamed, sprinting across the distance, splashing through a huge puddle and soaking her legs.

  He turned and that irresistible grin split his face. Trin slammed into him. Zander picked her off her feet and kissed her. She clung to him, the wetness from the rain intermingling with the sweet taste of Zander. He released her from the kiss, chuckled, and held her close to him.

  “You’re soaking wet,” he said.

  “Who cares? You’re here!”

  “You wanted me here?”

  “Yes!” She squeezed his broad back. “Where did you think I wanted you?”

  “In therapy.” He laughed.

  “I wanted you to get some help, that did not mean I wanted you to desert me.”

  He laughed again. The water streamed down his face. His hair was dripping and Trin was certain no man had ever been more handsome.

  “I went home and I got therapy, renewed my faith in the Lord too. My dad, Hannah, my house, and our pastor, helped as much as the psychiatrist.”

  Trin wasn’t sure if the moisture running down her face was more from rain or tears. “I’m so proud of you. I’ve been meeting with someone too. I’m trying to find a balance between wor
k and life. Trying to have more faith that everything will work out and my grandparents’ memory will still be with me, even if I’m not here at the house.”

  “Oh, Trin.” He swept her off her feet and carried her up the porch steps. Setting her down under the overhang where they wouldn’t be pounded by the rain, he stared at her and gently traced a finger across her cheek. Trin trembled from his touch and wanted more than anything to kiss him again.

  “I have a proposition for you.”

  “Lay it on me.”

  He grinned. “I want to start a foundation that helps children—foster children, those with single parents, or those with parents who are struggling financially. I’m going to organize triathlons and Ironmans and use all the revenue to help. Plus, twenty percent of my sales from my products will go to the foundation. I’m calling it, Moriah’s Munchkins.”

  “Oh, she’ll love that!” Trin loved it too. The purpose it would mean for him, but what did this mean for her, for them? At least she was still in his arms.

  “I know you love the Cloverdale. What if I bought a mansion near here for us to live, and you could still manage the bed and breakfast while I manage my organization? But you have to agree to only be an assistant manager, promote Moriah to manager, and be willing to travel with me and take entire weeks off to be with me.”

  She inclined her head. “Are you saying …?”

  “Yes, love.” He took both of her hands in his and squeezed them. “I know this is probably too quick for you, but I love you, Trin Dean. I love you and I am miserable without you. Will you marry me?”

  Trin smiled so big her cheeks hurt. “I love you too, Jason Hunley.”

  Zander threw back his head and laughed. He wrapped his warm hands around her face and lowered his head to hers. “Say my name, please, love.”

  “Zander Keller. The man who has my heart.”

  “Oh, that was cheesy. I love it.” Zander pressed his lips to hers and Trin clung to him. Wet, but not alone. Never alone again.

  About the Author

  Cami is a part-time author, part-time exercise consultant, part-time housekeeper, full-time wife, and overtime mother of four adorable boys. Sleep and relaxation are fond memories. She’s never been happier.

  Sign up for Cami’s newsletter to receive a free ebook copy of The Resilient One: A Billionaire Bride Pact Romance and information about new releases, discounts, and promotions here.

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  @camichecketts

  CamiCheckettsAuthor

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  cami@camichecketts.com

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  The Adventurous One by Jeanette Lewis

  “What’s ahead for you?” Taylor asked as they sat on the restaurant patio with sandwiches and salads. They were at a small round table and had pulled their chairs so close they were almost touching. The sun was warm on their faces and a small breeze ruffled their hair. Taylor thought of the skydiving and wanted to go back.

  Lane picked at his pasta salad with his fork. “I don’t know. Same old, same old I guess. Work. What about you?”

  Her face fell. “I’m not sure. I mean, I submit my travel plans to my editor a year in advance, so I guess I’ll be picking up where I left off in my schedule when I leave here. I just ...” She trailed off, unsure how to phrase it.

  “You’re wondering what’s ahead for us?” he asked softly.

  Heart in her throat, she nodded. The differences between this day with Lane and the day on the boat with Brent were stark in her mind. No guilt, no harsh words, no second guessing, no nerves—except for the good kind. Just being with him, just looking at him, sent thrills shooting through her core and goosebumps parading up her arms. It was embarrassing, really, though if he’d noticed, he hadn’t commented.

  Lane put his fork down and reached for her hand. His fingers closed around hers, warm and strong. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I really like you. No, scratch that, I more than like you.”

  Taylor gave up all pretense of playing it cool. “I more than like you too,” she whispered.

  He flashed her a smile, then he was leaning toward her and she was leaning toward him. There was a moment, right before she closed her eyes, when she could see the flecks of gold in his hazel eyes, the fringe of lashes around them. He smelled clean and soapy and faintly like pine trees. Then her eyes fluttered closed and his lips brushed hers, warm and soft.

  She didn’t remember dropping her fork, but suddenly her hands were free, sliding up the warm contours of his arms, over his muscular shoulders, and into the thick hair at the back of his head. Heat and longing exploded through her body as she wound her fingers into his hair as his mouth claimed hers. He tasted like cola and salad dressing, like spending a lazy summer day in a hammock, like swimming in a warm hot springs, like freedom and passion and love.

  Lane’s arms were around her, one clamped at her waist, the other at the back of neck, guiding her head so their mouths moved in sync.

  “Get a room!” Someone hollered, another diner on the patio, and they broke apart. For a moment they stared at each other, unsure whether to be embarrassed by so much PDA, but then Taylor giggled. She didn’t care.

  Lane laughed. “Sorry about that,” he called to the person who yelled. “Can you blame me though?”

  The man chuckled, shaking his head, and went back to his lunch.

  “Wow,” Lane leaned forward, resting his forehead against Taylor’s. “Can we do that again?”

  She couldn’t quite catch her breath. “Come with me,” she whispered, before she could think.

  His eyes grew big. “What do you mean?”

  It was pure impulse, brought on by desire and raging hormones, but more than that, the knowledge that this was what she’d wanted from the moment she’d seen him again. She wanted to explore the world with this man at her side. “No expectations,” she added quickly, seeing the confusion in his eyes. “We’d get separate rooms, like when Summer and I travel with her boyfriends. I just ... I think it would be really fun to have you along, and I think you’d like it. It could be the way it was, at the outdoor club, the two of us, together. I want you to come, need you to come ... need you,” she finished shakily.

  He ran one hand down the curve of her cheek and sat back. “What’s your next trip?” He asked.

  “I cut my trip to Mexico short to come help with Grandma, so I have a couple more weeks free, but then in August, I start the Appalachian Trail.” The thought of having Lane along turned it from an exciting hike into a magical adventure.

  “The Appalachian Trail is over two thousand miles long,” Lane said. “You’re hiking all of it?”

  “Not the whole thing,” she said. “I haven’t finalized my route yet, but I’m planning to be in New England by autumn to see the leaves. Depending on how much longer Grandma needs me, I might start there and work my way south. What do you think?”

  She’d thought it would be exactly l
ike the kind of thing Lane would love. But his face fell and he stared past her at their reflection in the restaurant windows. “Yeah, sounds great,” he said slowly. “If I could walk more than a mile without needing to rest. Or if I could even get up an incline as steep as a dopey bridge in a city park.”

  “So that’s where my friend comes in,” Taylor urged. “She can help you get the equipment you need so you can do that kind of stuff, don’t you see?” Her palms were clammy—please let him say yes. Please let him see this was possible.

  But Lane shook his head and poked at his salad again with his fork. “I can’t,” he muttered. “I can’t take charity.”

  Taylor groaned in frustration. “Will you shelve your silly pride for a few minutes,” she urged.

  It was the wrong thing to say. Lane’s head shot up and his eyes turned cold. “My pride is what got me through,” he said quietly. “It’s about the only thing I have left.”

  “But it doesn’t have to be that way,” she said, on a roll now that she couldn’t stop, didn’t want to stop. “You don’t have to just accept this is the way your life is now, there are still lots of things you could be doing, lots of adventures you could be having, if you’ll let yourself.”

  “I’ll get there, Taylor,” he said firmly. “But on my own terms.”

  She shook her head, tears brimming in her eyes. “No you won’t. You’ll go on working in your stupid little office and struggling along and never doing anything you’ve dreamed about because you’re too stubborn to realize someone tried to give you exactly what you needed and you refused.”

  His hand clenched around his fork. “You have no idea what it’s like,” he grated.

  “You’re right, I don’t. What you’ve been through is beyond imagining and I have no frame of reference for it. But I do know what it’s like to be hurt ... so devastated that you think you’re beyond repair. I’ve been there, and it took a long time, but I learned you can’t let one terrible thing define you for the rest of your life.”