Chapter 31
COLT
One week.
Seven days until I stood at an altar and married Hallie Bellrose in front of two hundred witnesses. The thought should have terrified me. I should be spiraling in a sea of panic and second-guessing.
Instead, I couldn’t stop smiling.
I was marrying Hallie. I still couldn’t believe Hallie was Janie. I was a damn fool not to know it from the very beginning. She was a saint to forgive me. I was the biggest asshole in the world for what I did to her. If I would have known then… what? Would I have fallen in love with her?
I honestly didn’t know the answer to that question. Back then, I was a different person. I wouldn’t say better because I had still been an asshole, but I felt like I was ready for her now. I was young, dumb, and full of hormones.
I still had a healthy supply of hormones, but I didn’t feel like I needed to fuck every five minutes.
Although I certainly wouldn’t mind if Hallie was my partner in said fucking.
That woman could turn me inside out. Sex with her was an experience.
It wasn’t just putting my dick somewhere warm and wet. It was so much more than that.
And fuck. Now I’m hard and I have a meeting in exactly two minutes.
One potato, two potato, three potato.
Things returned to normal. I grabbed what I needed and headed down the hall to the conference room. My investors and board members were already there.
“Let’s get started,” I said and took my seat at the head of the table.
I forced myself to pay attention as one of my staff presented the latest sales figures for our Valentine’s Day collection. The rings had launched two days ago, a late-season release that had been risky but was paying off in spades.
“Sales are exceeding projections by thirty-two percent,” he said, clicking to the next slide. “The engagement ring line in particular is performing exceptionally well. We’re seeing interest across all demographics, but especially in the twenty-five to thirty-five age range.”
Gerald Morrison, one of our oldest investors, leaned forward. “That’s your demographic, Colt. The reformed playboy settling down. People are buying into the story.”
“It’s working,” another investor agreed. “The narrative you’ve built with this engagement is translating directly to sales.”
I nodded, keeping my expression neutral even as my mind wandered to Hallie.
To the way she’d looked this morning when I’d left her sleeping in my bed.
Her lips still a little bruised and swollen from some aggressive lovemaking.
She’d stayed every night this week, and I’d stopped asking her to leave.
It was just understood she would be sleeping over.
And sleep wasn’t entirely accurate. Although we did get a good five to six hours. I loved getting her in bed. There was still so much more I wanted to do with her body. It was like plucking the ripest orange. Sweet. Juicy. And oh so damn good.
“Colt?” Dan’s voice pulled me back. “Did you want to show them the new design?”
Right. The design I’d been working on.
I pulled the sketch from my portfolio and slid it across the table. It was the ring I’d been tinkering with for weeks, the one-of-a-kind piece I was thinking of releasing for Christmas.
The investors studied it in silence. Too much silence.
“It’s… interesting,” Gerald finally said, his tone diplomatic.
“Unusual,” another added.
“Not really what we’re known for,” a third chimed in.
I watched their faces, saw the polite rejection, and carefully slid the sketch back toward me. “Just an idea I was playing with. Nothing concrete.”
“Stick with what’s working,” Gerald advised. “The classic designs are selling. No need to reinvent the wheel.”
“Right,” I said. “Of course.”
The meeting wrapped up shortly after, and they filed out one by one, each pausing to shake my hand and offer congratulations on the upcoming wedding.
“Break a leg next Saturday,” Gerald said with a wink. “We’ll see you and your bride there.”
Your bride. The words sent a thrill through me that I didn’t bother to hide once the door closed behind them.
Hallie was going to be my bride. In seven days, she’d walk down an aisle toward me, and I’d put a ring on her finger. A real one this time, not a cubic zirconia floor model. And I would promise her forever.
And maybe, if I was lucky, she’d want that too.
I returned to my office and sat at my desk facing my computer, opening a browser tab. I’d been thinking about this for days now, ever since Hallie had told me about high school. About how I’d hurt her.
I wanted to make it up to her. Wanted to give her something real and beautiful and lasting.
Starting with a honeymoon.
I knew the contract didn’t require one. Hell, the contract didn’t require any of what we’d been doing this past week. The sleeping over, the dinners together, the way we couldn’t seem to keep our hands off each other.
But maybe we didn’t have to let the contract dictate everything. Maybe, once the wedding was over and the cameras stopped flashing, we could slip away somewhere and see if this thing between us had legs.
See if what we felt was real when no one was watching.
I pulled up luxury travel sites and started browsing. Bora Bora? More like Boring Boring. The Maldives? Beautiful but far. Maybe somewhere in Europe—the Amalfi Coast, or the Greek Islands, or—
My phone buzzed with a text from Hallie.
Hallie: I’m heading to lunch with my roommates. I know you’re busy. Can I bring you something? I won’t stay. But you need to eat.
My smile was immediate and unavoidable.
Me: I’ll never say no to seeing you.
Hallie: Good answer. See you in a bit. Any requests?
Me: You. Naked. Maybe a little whipped cream.
Hallie: Blushing emoji.
Hallie: I’ll surprise you.
This had become our routine over the past week. Hallie showing up with food, us eating together in my office, stealing kisses between bites. It was sweet and everything I’d never wanted before. She said it was because she was bored.
I’d decided it was because she missed me.
And I liked that. I liked being missed. I liked that she wanted to spend time with me doing something as simple as eating a sandwich or hamburger or whatever she decided we were having for lunch.
I cleared all lunch meetings because I only wanted to eat lunch with her.
I couldn’t imagine my days without our lunch dates.
I was pulling up information on Santorini when Frankie knocked and poked her head in.
“Hey,” she said. “I’m heading out to grab lunch with Madison. You need anything?”
“Hallie’s bringing me something, but thanks.”
Frankie’s eyebrows rose. “Hallie’s coming here? Again?”
“Problem?”
“No.” She stepped inside and closed the door. “You two have been spending a lot of time together. Like, a lot a lot.”
“She’s my fiancée. Isn’t that the point?”
“I’m all for it,” Frankie corrected. “I wasn’t criticizing. I’m just checking in.”
I leaned back in my chair, studying my sister. She looked worried, which meant I needed to be honest with her.
“I’m letting my heart lead,” I said simply.
“Wow, look at you,” she said, nodding like she was impressed.
“I figured you would tell me I’m making a mistake, like before.”
My sister shrugged. “If you really like this girl, that’s awesome. Assuming she’s on the same page about this?”
“I mean, we haven’t had a real conversation about it, but I’m pretty sure she has feelings too.”
“You’re pretty sure?” Frankie asked. “See, now I’m worried again.”
“We have history. Real history.” I told her about Hallie’s revelation, about how we’d known each other in high school, about the beach incident, about how I’d apologized, and she’d forgiven me.
Frankie listened, her expression softening. “So she’s not just some random woman you hired. She’s someone you’ve hurt before.”
“And someone I’m trying to do right by now.”
“By falling in love with her?”
The words hung in the air between us.
“Yeah,” I said. “By falling in love with her.”
Frankie sighed and sat down across from me. “I want you to be happy. You know that, right?”
“I know.”
“But I’m also terrified you’re going to get your heart broken. Again.” Her voice cracked slightly. “I can’t watch you go through that again, Colt.”
“This isn’t like Lauren,” I interrupted gently.
“Hallie’s not—” I stopped, trying to find the right words.
“Lauren’s death destroyed me because I couldn’t control it.
Couldn’t prevent it. Couldn’t do anything but watch my entire future disappear in an instant.
There were so many what-ifs from that night.
The situations are not even a little similar.
Lauren’s gone, Frankie. I have to let her go. ”
“And Hallie?”
“Hallie’s here. She’s choosing to be here. Every night this week, she’s stayed over. She didn’t have to. The contract doesn’t require that. But she stayed.” I met Frankie’s eyes. “And she’s been bringing me lunch to hang out with me. If she doesn’t like me, she’s an amazing actress.”
Frankie studied me, her eyes calculating my every expression. “Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Yeah, I trust your judgment. Even when you’re being an idiot, you’re still my brother, and I trust you.” She stood up. “Just be careful. Please. Guard your heart at least a little bit.”
“I’ll try.”
“That’s all I ask.” She headed for the door, then paused. “Oh, and Colt? For what it’s worth, I think Hallie’s good for you. I’ve never seen you this happy. I don’t think she’s pretending either.”
She left before I could respond. I sat there staring at the closed door, her words echoing in my head.
Was I happy?
I thought about waking up with Hallie in my arms every morning this week.
The routine we had kind of stumbled into.
About how she’d started leaving little things at my place—a toothbrush, a change of clothes, a book on my nightstand.
Her shampoo, which damn, that was an erotic journey in itself.
If I had to shower alone, not going to lie, her shampoo served as an excellent lube.
I loved that my penthouse felt like a home instead of just a space when she was there.
Yeah. I was happy.
Happier than I’d been since I was a nineteen year old kid.
I turned to the picture of my father on my desk, the same photo that had been there since I’d moved into this office.
He was younger in it, maybe mid-forties, standing in front of the original Valenteen store with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
He’d been driven, focused, always pushing forward.
I picked up the frame, studying his face.
“I think I might have accidentally fallen for my fake fiancée,” I said to the photo. “If you were here, you’d probably chew me out for this. Tell me I was letting emotions compromise business. That I was being reckless.”
The photo didn’t respond, obviously, but I kept talking anyway.
“Or maybe you’d be proud of me. For actually letting myself feel something instead of just going through the motions.” I traced my thumb over the frame’s edge. “You always said Frankie was the angel and I was the devil. But maybe the devil deserves a shot at redemption too.”