by Tia Souders
His words gouged at the soft flesh around her heart, and with a sigh, she surrendered to the feel of him—warm and soft. Sinking into him, she reached up to trace the stubble over his jaw, snaking her thumb around to feel the curve of his lower lip move as he devoured hers.
Fall. . . Fall. . . Fall. . . she willed herself. Just let yourself fall.
Her heart thumped wildly. The tempo of their kiss increased, nothing like the soft tenderness and heat of their first kiss. A woman bumped her shoulder as she passed. A man cursed. Cabs zipped by them on the street and a horn honked in the distance, but the only thing that existed was that moment. There, with him, basked by the glow of the streetlight under an indigo sky.
This kiss was wild and hard. Teeth clashing. Lips biting. Sloppy in its perfection. Like it was the last one they’d ever have.
Tilting her chin on a moan, he tightened his hold on her, and all her fears slipped away.
His hands tangled in the hair trailing her spine, while hers moved to his chest, pressing over his heart, wanting to feel the beating like a drum, to know that this was real. They were alive, flesh and blood. One breath. Two hearts.
The world around her faded.
This is what it feels like to be free. To lose control. To fall.
His teeth nipped at her lower lip as the world swirled at their feet, disintegrating into a vast pool of nothingness. Only he existed—her, him, and this kiss.
Her back hit the wall of the building behind them. A man’s voice hollered, “Get a room, lady,” while someone else snickered.
He pressed into her. Even through her coat, the jagged brick bit at her back. His lips spoke to her, telling her it was okay to let go.
But the troubled little voice inside her head still existed.
The one that told her to run.
The one that belonged to the scared girl that placed chains around her heart.
Before she could stop herself, she pulled away. Heart banging. Breath wheezing from her lungs.
With the pulse of a machine gun, she swallowed her heart and looked into his eyes. “You can’t make me fall. No one can.”
And with that, she turned and walked away.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
MARTI
MARTI PACED THE CONFINES of the freebie closet where she had called her best friends to an emergency meeting. Like any good besties, they rushed to her aide. It wasn’t often one of them sent an SOS, but when they did, everything else could wait.
Caroline and Mel sat wedged between the shoe racks and the makeup counter, as she recapped her evening with sweaty palms and knots in her stomach. Each word out of her mouth felt like a heavy stone, pressing against her chest.
Mel and Caroline were her friends. They wouldn’t judge her. They wanted what was best for her. Yet, as soon as she finished describing her parting encounter with Logan, she thought she might be sick.
“Wow. Just wow.” Caroline’s blue eyes widened. “That is the most romantic thing. Maybe ever. I’m so jealous, I might hate you.”
Marti glared at her. “Caroline, that’s not helping.”
“What?” Caroline threw her hands up. “I can’t help it. I’m a hopeless romantic and that is so hot. What did he say again before he kissed you?”
“I’ll make you fall.”
“Um, hello?” Caroline shouted. “Am I the only one that thinks that’s the most swoon-worthy thing to happen to womankind?”
Marti met Mel’s gaze, then wished she hadn’t. Her hazel eyes bore into hers, calculating some kind of equation in her head. If 2 + 2 = 4, then Marti + Logan = love.
“You really like him, don’t you?” Mel asked.
“What?” Marti picked at a stray thread on the hem of her shirt. “No.”
When Mel continued to stare holes through her, she shook her head. “I don’t know. Maybe a little. But it doesn’t matter. I don’t like him enough to throw away everything I’ve ever worked for.”
“But your column is doing better than ever, thanks to your relationship,” Caroline pointed out. “Heck, according to Blue, it’s doing as well as the very first year you started. We’ve all seen the numbers. She’s all but shouted them from the rooftops in a prayer.”
“Yeah, I know, but—”
“But what?” Caroline asked.
“Why are you getting angry with me?”
“I’m not getting angry with you,” Caroline insisted.
“Yes, you are.”
“I just think it’s crazy that you have a guy like him practically begging you for a chance and you’re going to throw it away because of . . . what? An image you’ve created for yourself? That’s insane, Marti. We’re talking about real life here.”
“Exactly. I don’t want a relationship. I never did.”
“So you’re falling in love, but don’t want a relationship? That’s rich. You’re like every guy I’ve ever dated.”
Marti scowled. “That’s unfair.”
When Caroline shrugged, Marti turned to Mel for backup. If anyone understood, it was her. She’d been burned so badly by her ex, she’d never let another man in.
Mel sighed and shook her head. “I don’t know. If you like him, don’t you think you owe it to yourself to explore that, especially since Blue wants you to keep dating him?”
Marti blinked at her in shock. What was happening? Even Mel agreed with Caroline?
Mel reached out and squeezed her hand. “Just because some relationships end badly, doesn’t mean they all do.”
MARTI STOOD AMONG THE stars. Music tinkled in the background, along with the steady buzz of conversation. The last thing Marti wanted was to attend a party and pretend everything was fine when she was twisted up inside. But Blue had requested her presence. Gladys Jewelers had placed a giant campaign with PopNewz, and tonight was a celebration of their new relationship.
She stared out into the distance, ignoring her guilt at leaving Logan to fend for himself. She needed a moment of quiet to breathe, to think.
If she had her way, she’d be at home, nursing a bottle of wine as she tried to gain some clarity on her situation. Instead, here she was, with Logan as her date, the night after her failed dinner with her father. They’d barely said two words to each other before Marti rushed off, unable to face him for fear of what either of them might say or do.
Her breath puffed around her, despite the rooftop heaters, and she hugged her wool wrap tighter around her shoulders.
Was it crazy to want him? Or was it insane to think they might actually have a chance?
Six weeks ago, she would have thought she’d lost her mind for even contemplating a serious relationship. Now, she wasn’t so sure.
Marti gazed out into the night, taking in the view of the city below. One she knew by heart. The skyscrapers stood tall and proud against the inky sky, their windows lit up like teeth. Traffic ping-ponged along the busy streets, the sidewalks teeming with people. Horns honked, laughter filled the air, and the melodic sounds of buskers drifted to weary ears. On the corner, the guy who hawked fake designer bags would be giving his spiel, while the hot dog vendor sold his eats. Glassware clinked as bar doors opened.
All of these things, these sounds, came from a city she loved. Apart, all these things seemed insignificant. But together, they were more—one piece of a whole— they were everything.
Kind of like her and Logan.
Separate, they were just two people. Together, they were something greater than their individual parts. She felt it in her bones.
But old habits die hard.
Was she strong enough to give them a chance? It felt less like an act of faith and more like rappelling down the side of a building before checking the safety harness.
“I’m glad to get you alone.” The sound of Blue’s voice broke the quiet.
Marti glanced over her shoulder and forced a smile, trying to smother her annoyance when all she wanted was a moment alone.
Blue headed to the banister beside her and stared off into
the distance, her eyes fixed on the horizon. “I started this company from the ground up. From a small blog, we grew in the span of one year, netting close to one million dollars. Today, we’re a multimillion-dollar platform.” She paused, and Marti wondered what she was waiting for. Applause?
“Do you know why I’ve been so successful?” Blue asked.
Marti wasn’t in the mood for a speech. Still, she asked, “Why?”
“Because I have the guts to make the right decisions for this business. Above all else, I put PopNewz first, and everything else comes second. Even now, after I fell in love and got engaged, I know where my loyalties lie. It’s why I broke it off.”
Marti’s gaze jerked to Blue’s left hand. The giant rock was absent. “Your engagement?”
“I can’t run an empire and be a wife, and I certainly can’t be a mother too. Ben wanted kids. And for me it has to be one or the other, a career or a family.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Marti said, and she was. There was something sad about this powerhouse of a woman admitting she’d rather be alone than share a piece of herself with something other than her career.
“Are you?” Blue turned to Marti. When their eyes met, Blue skewered her with her gaze. “Sorry to hear about my breakup, I mean. Because that doesn’t sound like the Marti I know.”
Marti cleared her throat and glanced away. She was right. Six weeks ago, Marti was disgusted Blue was throwing everything away for love. But now . . .
“He’s in love with you, you know.”
Marti’s head snapped up. “Logan?”
Blue cocked her head. “You act like you don’t know.”
When Marti said nothing, Blue chuckled. “That’s what I thought.”
Frustrated, Marti stepped back and shoved a hand through her hair. “Blue, is there a point to this? What are we really talking about here? Whatever you want to say, just say it.”
“You fell for him, didn’t you? You, Marti McBride, the Queen of Single care for a man.”
Marti shook her head, afraid of the way her heart thumped at Blue’s words, like it might leap from her chest. “No. This is business.”
“Then end it.”
Marti flinched. “What?”
Blue turned back to the skyline, giving Marti her profile and the curve of her mouth. “I’ve been thinking about it, and everything that follows a committed relationship is boring. Unless, of course, you’re marrying Justin Bieber, then have at it. Otherwise, we can’t have you settle down with the doctor for very long. Readers have fallen in love with the two of you, but they’ll quickly lose interest. No one wants to hear how you go grocery shopping on Sundays. It’s boring. People want drama, heartache, gossip, tension, and conflict. So we need to give readers what they want.”
“Hold on.” Marti closed her eyes, inhaling a deep breath, even while her stomach soured. “You said the column was doing better, that my numbers are at an all-time high, and that people loved Logarti. Is this because you broke off your engagement?”
Blue’s nostrils flared like a snorting bull. “I got to where I am in this business because I know what people want. You’re our most popular digital column, and though physical magazine sales have struggled with the digital age, your articles keep readers coming back. People want something to talk about, but Logarti won’t last. It’ll be dead in the water by New Year’s. What can I say? News travels fast and dies faster,” she said with a rueful smile.
Marti swallowed over the lump in her throat. “But he doesn’t . . . he’s not expecting this.”
“Which is why it will be so effective. Your readers won’t expect it either. You’ve been going strong for weeks now. They’ll be clamoring to know what happened.”
Marti pressed a palm over the stabbing sensation in her chest. She herself had wanted to end things. She told him just last night that she couldn’t fall for him. And she had meant it.
But now, faced with the prospect of losing him . . .
“You—we—can’t just play games with people’s lives like this. It’s not just about me or this column. Logan is involved, too. He’s a real person, with a life and a medical practice. He has a charity to run. I can’t drag his name through the mud.”
What was she saying? This was the plan all along. She knew the rules.
But she didn’t want this to be over. Not yet.
“So come up with something that will put him on neutral ground, some heartbreaking lie. Then a break-up will garner even more publicity for him, and it’s a win-win.”
Except it wasn’t. Because ending things with him felt a whole lot like losing.
“What if I refuse?” Marti squared her shoulders even as everything inside her screamed. She was one step away from a straightjacket. It was crazy to give everything up for a man.
Her arms shook as she held Blue’s gaze, refusing to acknowledge the full extent of Blue’s hold on her.
Slowly, Blue moved closer. She towered over Marti in her heels, making her breath catch. “Don’t make me force your hand.” Her voice hardened. “Understand?”
DON’T MAKE ME FORCE your hand . . .
The words ran in a loop through Marti’s head as she blotted at her face with a damp paper towel in the ladies’ room.
What could Blue possibly have up her sleeve?
Taking a deep breath, Marti steadied her breathing and prepared herself to face Logan. She’d been gone too long already. She needed to hurry.
She exited the bathroom and headed back out onto the heated terrace, into the night. As she weaved through the crowd, she tried to work out what she would tell him. Maybe they could work out this problem together, come up with a plan.
But that meant telling him the whole truth, coming clean about everything. That she, too, had been using him all along.
It served Marti right for manipulating the situation. From the start, Blue insisted she enter this relationship, and now Blue was pulling the puppet strings once again and expected Marti to dance.
Even if I tell Logan the truth now, what good would that do either of us?
Marti side-stepped a group of people, searching for his familiar profile in the crowd until she was struck by the sight of him. The moon above highlighted the masculine curve of his jaw. His hair was rumpled from running his hands through it, and when he glanced at his watch, her heart lurched. He was waiting on her. Always waiting on her . . .
It didn’t seem fair.
A sharp pain lanced her side as a raw dose of reality struck her. She knew what she needed to do.
It was the only option.
Because whatever Blue had in mind if Marti didn’t comply couldn’t be good. And she wouldn’t let her hurt him. She cared about him too much.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
LOGAN
“THERE YOU ARE. I THOUGHT maybe you’d left.” Logan took a sip of champagne, trying to look indifferent when inside he wanted to rage—to smash everything around him to bits.
“Sorry. I got caught up talking to my boss.”
Logan nodded.
“Want to have a seat?” Marti asked, motioning to a rectangular seating area of stylishly arranged sofas.
“Not particularly. Unless we’re going to talk about last night.”
“What about it?” Marti shuffled closer, avoiding his eye.
“The kiss.”
“We’ve kissed before.”
“Fine. Let’s talk about your words, then.”
“I didn’t say anything you didn’t already know.”
Anger stiffened his spine. He moved in front of her and placed his fingers under her chin, tipping her head until their eyes met. “Don’t stand there and pretend that nothing has changed between us. It’s insulting.”
“I like you, Logan.”
The knot of tension between his shoulder blades loosened. His hand fell away. “I know.”
“But I don’t love you. I never will. I can’t. I don’t—”
“If you say that you don’t know how or
that you don’t have it in you, so help me, McBride, I’ll kiss you ‘til you break.”
“My boss wants me to break up with you,” she blurted.
Logan flinched, her words a shock. “She, what?”
“She wants me to break up with you. For the sake of my column. She said the relationship was great for publicity while it lasted. That my ratings are at an all-time high, but I can’t be in love and write a singles column. It just won’t work. No one wants to hear about how in love you are long term. I think her exact words were that it’s boring. People want drama, heartache, gossip, tension, and conflict.”
“This is your life, not hers.” Even as he said it, he knew it was a moot point. After all, her career was her life too. But he was a man hanging from a cliff, his fingers slipping from the bitter edge, and he’d do anything to hold on.
“Yes, it is. And this is my job, my livelihood we’re talking about here.” Marti stepped forward and closed the gap between them, lowering her voice. “Don’t you get it? There is no choice. She gave me an ultimatum. My job or you.”
But that is a choice. He wanted to say it but couldn’t. It wasn’t fair, asking her to choose. “We’ve only just begun.”
“There was always an expiration date on this. You know that better than anyone. Why are you trying to challenge that now? It’s over.” Her lip trembled. This was hurting her. He could see it.
And when she turned to walk away, he hurried to block her path. “No. Don’t do this. Don’t act like this meant nothing. Like every bit of our time together was all for the cameras because it wasn’t. We both know that.”
Marti shook her head but said nothing.
“Just give us until after your father’s wedding at least.”
“What difference will that make?”
“She can’t make you do anything you don’t want to,” he insisted, ignoring the bitter truth. He knew it was over—felt it deep in his bones—yet he couldn’t help holding on.
“She’s my boss. She can do whatever she wants.”
