Chapter 36
HALLIE
The coffeemaker gurgled and hissed as I stood at the kitchen window.
The thing was beyond old. I was pretty sure it was the same coffeemaker my mom bought my dad for Christmas when I was a baby.
But it worked. It didn’t matter that it was loud as hell and probably needed to be soaked in vinegar—or gasoline.
I pulled the carafe, filled my cup, and dumped an unhealthy amount of sugar into the black liquid. I absently stirred while I stared outside.
Snow fell steadily, thick flakes that obscured the beach beyond.
The wind howled around the old house, making the windows rattle in their frames.
It was the kind of day my dad would have loved, wild and moody and perfect for staying inside by the fire.
It was dreadful. Cold. No normal person would even think about going for a walk on the beach, but I was.
I wanted to feel that icy wind. I needed it to blow away the pain that still gripped my heart. Hearing Colt’s voice was good and bad. It made me long for him. I so wished I had been there to hold him in the aftermath of that nightmare.
I would never hold him again.
Valentine’s Day was in two days. My wedding day that would never happen. I kept stirring, the spoon clinking against the ceramic in a rhythm that matched my scattered thoughts.
I could picture him so clearly. Lying in his bed, shirtless, his hair mussed, his eyes haunted by nightmares he couldn’t escape. The image made my chest ache with longing and regret in equal measure.
He’d called to make sure I was okay.
After everything I’d done to him, after all the lies and the pain, he’d woken from a nightmare, and his first thought had been me.
What did that mean?
I looked down at my left hand, still wrapped around the coffee mug. The fake diamond caught the gray morning light, throwing weak rainbows across the counter.
I still hadn’t taken it off. Even after the engagement was cancelled, I had kept wearing his ring.
The realization made me set down my coffee. Slowly, carefully, I slid the ring off my finger. It left a faint indent in my skin, a ghost of what had been. I should never have put it on in the first place.
Not for the reasons I had. Not with revenge in my heart and lies on my tongue.
I was not that person. I realized the revenge thing was like putting on a pair of shoes that were three sizes too small.
That attitude, that need for revenge was not who I was.
And I never wanted to be that person. It felt gross.
Dirty. Like I was betraying not just myself, but my parents. They taught me to be better than that.
I placed the ring on the windowsill and stared at it. It looked small and insignificant there. It meant nothing, but for a little while, I let myself believe it signified something special.
A knock on the door made me jump, coffee sloshing over the rim of my mug.
Who would be here? Especially in this weather.
Maybe it was a neighbor. Or someone checking on the property.
I padded down the hallway in my slippers and old terrycloth robe with the frayed belt and the stain on the sleeve that wouldn’t come out. My hair was probably a mess. I definitely wasn’t wearing a bra.
Whoever it was would just have to deal with it. I opened the door. And froze.
Colt stood on my porch, snowflakes caught in his dark hair, his cheeks and nose pink from the cold. He wore jeans and a heavy coat. His hazel eyes that had looked at me with such hurt three days ago were locked on mine. The gaze made my breath catch.
“Colt?” His name came out as barely a whisper.
“Hi.” His smile was sheepish, almost shy. Nothing like the cocky billionaire. “Can I come in? It’s fucking freezing out here.”
I stepped back automatically. He moved past me into the house, bringing cold air and wet snow with him.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, closing the door. “How did you—when did you—”
“I got off the phone with you this morning and couldn’t fall back asleep.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, looking around the small entryway. “So I called my pilot and chartered a flight out here. I needed to see you.”
“You chartered a jet.” I stared at him. “At four in the morning.”
“Closer to five by the time we took off, but yeah.” He took a step toward me. “I needed to see you, Hallie. To touch you. To make sure you were really okay.”
He reached out and cupped my face in both his hands. His palms were cold against my skin, but his touch was gentle as he tilted my face up, studying me like he was checking for injuries.
His eyes traveled over my features. My puffy eyes, my bare face, my chapped lips. Then his gaze met mine, and I saw something in his expression that made my heart stutter.
Concern. Care. Something that looked a lot like love.
“Are you okay?” he asked softly.
I shook my head, tears already forming. “No. Are you?”
“No.” He stroked his thumbs across my cheekbones, catching tears before they could fall. “But I’m here now. We’re here now.”
This moment was such a stark contrast to everything Colt had been when I first met him. Back then, he’d been all hard lines and sharp edges. Cocky grins and grumpy demands. A man who bulldozed over everyone and everything to get what he wanted.
Now he was looking at me like I was something precious. Something worth protecting.
This man would never leave me behind. This man would always choose me.
This man would never deliberately hurt me.
“I love you,” I whispered.
“I love you too.” He leaned down, his forehead touching mine. “God, Hallie, I love you so much it scares the shit out of me.”
Then he kissed me.
It was soft at first, almost tentative, like he was afraid I might break. But I pressed closer and deepened the kiss. That one kiss became everything I needed it to be—forgiveness and promise and home all wrapped into one.
When we finally pulled apart, we were both smiling against each other’s lips.
“This place really is a shithole,” Colt muttered, glancing around at the peeling paint and worn furniture. “You really do need my money.”
I threw my head back and laughed for the first time in days. “It is not a shithole! It’s rustic.”
“It’s falling apart.”
“It has character.”
“It has mold, probably.” But he was smiling as he said it, walking me backward toward the living room where the fire from last night had burned down to embers. “But I love it. Because it’s yours.”
He kissed me again, harder this time, with an urgency that stole my breath. His hands slid to my waist, pulling me flush against him.
“Marry me,” he said against my lips.
I pulled back. “What?”
“Marry me. On Valentine’s Day. Just like we planned.” His eyes were bright, intense. “We’ll dissolve the contract. Tear it up. Burn it. Whatever you want. And we’ll sign new paperwork. Real paperwork. Real marriage.”
“Colt, we can’t. The guests think it’s cancelled. And the vendors?”
“I don’t care about the guests or the vendors.
” He cupped my face again. “I care about you. I care about us. And I’m not waiting another six months or another year to make you my wife.
I want to marry you on Valentine’s Day like I’ve been planning for weeks.
The only difference is this time it’ll be real. ”
“You really want to marry me?” My voice cracked. “After everything?”
“After everything,” he confirmed. “Despite everything. Because of everything. Hallie, you’re it for me. You’re the person I want to wake up next to every morning. The person I want to call when I have a nightmare. The person I want to fix up this shithole beach house with.”
“It’s not a shithole,” I said, but I was crying and laughing at the same time.
“It absolutely is.” He kissed my tears away. “But it’s your shithole. Which means it’s our shithole now. If you’ll have me.”
“Yes.” I didn’t even have to think about it. “Yes, I’ll marry you. For real this time.”
His smile was brilliant, transforming his entire face. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” I pulled him down for another kiss. “But Colt, are you sure? I lied to you.”
“And I’m choosing to forgive you. The way you forgave me for standing you up on the beach when we were younger. We’re choosing each other.” He walked me backward until my legs hit the couch. “Now stop talking and let me show you how much I love you.”
I pulled at his coat, and he shrugged it off, letting it fall to the floor. His hands found the tie of my robe, pulling it loose. It didn’t take much for the worn fabric to fall off my shoulders.
“You flew all the way out here,” I murmured as his mouth found my neck. “In a chartered jet. At five in the morning. In the middle of the snowstorm. I don’t think that was safe.”
“Best decision I ever made.” His hands slid up my sides, and I shivered. “Well, second best. First was catching you when you tripped on the hem of your dress.”
“Outside the party?”
“When fate literally threw you into my arms.” He lifted his head to look at me.
His expression was so open and full of love that it made my chest tight.
“I’m done fighting this, Hallie. Done pretending I don’t need you.
Done letting fear rule my life. I’ve never wanted to need anyone, but it happened. I’m screwed.”
“Me too,” I whispered.
He kissed me again, and this time when he lowered me to the couch, I went eagerly.
We made love there in the living room of my father’s beach house, with snow falling outside. And it was different from every other time before.
This wasn’t about performance or contracts or proving anything.
This was about us choosing each other. We were building something real on the ruins of what we’d almost destroyed.
After, we lay tangled together on the couch, my head on his chest. It was cold and I really needed to get the fire stoked, but I didn’t want to move. His body heat was enough.
“So we’re really doing this? Getting married in two days?” I asked. It felt like I might still be in a dream, so I wanted to confirm it.
“Yes.”
“Didn’t you cancel the venue?” I asked. My mind was already jumping to practical matters.
“We’ll figure it out,” he said. “Together.”
Together. The word settled over me like a warm blanket.
“Okay,” I said. “Together.”
We stayed on that couch for a long time, talking about the future. The past was behind us. Neither of us wanted to look back.