Chapter 26
26
MARCUS
B uddy alerts me to someone’s arrival before my own ears pick up the sound. I don’t bother turning around to see who it is, mostly because I don’t care. I’m certain I know exactly who it’s not.
It’s been a week since I woke up alone, and I haven’t heard from her, other than the note she left on my coffee table. I’ve wanted to reach out, just to make sure she’s okay, but I haven’t. What we shared was a fling, right? We set the parameters, and never once did we talk about more.
Until my heart got involved.
That’s exactly why I always keep it out of the equation. Unfortunately, I wasn’t expecting a prissy, high-maintenance woman to slip beneath my defenses. Between her fancy, designer shoes and her vacation wardrobe that cost more than I make in a month, I let down my guard, assuming we could have a little fun without the strings.
She perfected the sneak attack, and now I’m paying the price.
“You look like shit.”
I grunt, refusing to turn to welcome the newcomer. I keep my focus on Grandpa’s old truck, tinkering with the carburetor. Anything to keep my idle hands busy. It’s actually the first night I haven’t stayed until dark at the shop. At home, I look around and see Ryan. I expect her presence and then am sadly disappointed when I feel nothing but emptiness.
So, I work. There’ve been plenty of vehicles to fix and tow calls to go on, thanks to the busy tourist season. I’ve taken on more than my shop normally does, just to keep busy and away from home.
But tonight, I needed something different. Something that only working on my grandpa’s truck could provide. I miss him like crazy, wishing he were here to offer a bit of advice. Or maybe a shot of Jack to help mend my broken heart, because there’s no doubt in my mind that’s what I’m suffering from. What started out as a little fling turned into something bigger.
Dammit.
“You wanna talk about it?” Gabe asks, leaning against the old truck and glancing under the hood. The man’s got talent when it comes to woodworking and home remodeling projects, but if it involves an engine, he’s shit.
“Nope,” I tell him, giving the wrench a quarter turn.
“Great, then you can just listen.”
I close my eyes and shake my head. When I said I wouldn’t mind talking to my grandpa, that didn’t mean I wanted my friends all up in my business.
“Have you talked to her?” he asks. I know which her he’s referring to.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because that wasn’t our deal.” I turn the wrench with a bit more aggression than necessary. “It was a fling, Gabe. Nothing more.”
“You sure about that?” he asks.
His words make me stop moving as anger sweeps through me. “Yes, I’m sure,” I say through gritted teeth.
“Then why are you both miserable?”
That question makes me pause. For the first time, I look up at my friend. He’s smiling, the fucker.
Sighing, I toss the wrench onto my cart and stand up straight. My back aches, thanks to being hunched over for extended periods of time today, but that pain has nothing on what I feel in my chest. “You’ve talked to her?”
“Not me, but Blair has. Hallie too. I think they all have. They became friends while she was here, and they’re wanting to keep in touch.”
I nod, happy for all of them. Especially Ryan. I got the impression she didn’t have a lot of real friends back home, so to know she’s still communicating with the ladies back here is comforting. They may not be right down the road, but they’re great people and will have her back when she needs it.
“Listen, Marcus, I’m not here to tell you what to do, but I do have a little experience in this sort of situation.”
My eyebrows shoot sky-high. “You had a summer fling with a reality TV star who was hiding out from the media and her ex-boyfriend who publicly told the world he was only dating her to get close to her father?”
He chuckles and shakes his head. “No.”
“That’s what I thought,” I grumble, turning my attention back to the truck.
“I have experience in letting the woman I love go because I thought that was best for all of us.”
Oh. That.
Yeah, I remember when he and Blair hooked up while she was in town, helping at her father’s medical practice here. She and Gabe started this thing, and when her time was up, she went back home to Chicago, or wherever it was she was living. He was gutted.
“I let her go because I felt I couldn’t ask her to stay. It needed to be her decision. But I also didn’t give her all the information to make her choice. I’m guessing same for you. You haven’t told her how you really feel, have you?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because she left me a fucking note, Gabe. She said goodbye in a letter and snuck off while I was sleeping.”
“Do you think it’s possible she did that to protect herself? And maybe you?”
I groan, recalling the words she left me.
This isn’t the life you signed up for, so if I go, everything will return to normal for you.
I shrug, not wanting to get into this with him.
“Listen, man, I’m not here to kick you while you’re down, but I will say this. I didn’t go after Blair when she left and will always regret it. Yeah, it turned out fine because she came back to me, but what if she hadn’t? I’d like to think I’d have pulled my head out of my ass before too long and gone after her, but there’s always a what-if in the back of my mind. Don’t let the what-ifs keep you from living the life you want, Marcus. Go after her. Give her all the pieces to the puzzle, and if she wants to put it together, then that’s her decision. If not, at least you’ll know.”
I swallow over the lump in my throat and keep my focus on the engine bay. His words have the impact I’m sure he was going for. They strike my heart and give voice to the questions I’ve had swirling in my brain and my heart. Was it a mistake to let her go without at least telling her how I feel? Probably. But I did it for two reasons.
One, the rules we established that first night we were together—a summer fling and nothing more—were fulfilled. I broke the rules. I fell for her hard and fast and was left to pick up the pieces when she returned home.
And two, I never gave her all the info. That’s me protecting myself, if I’m being honest. Rejection fucking sucks. I experienced it as a baby, when my mom dropped me off at my grandparents’ house and never looked back. Now I’ve handed over that same control to Ryan without realizing it, and in one moment, she could wield that exact kind of hurt. She could tell me to get lost, confirm the fear I’ve held on to like a shield around my heart.
But, like Gabe said, what if she doesn’t…
He walks over and slaps me on the back, giving my shoulder a tight squeeze. It’s the first time I noticed he’s wearing scrubs, probably having just returned from a hospital visit in Hudson. “Think about it, but don’t think too long, man. I’d hate to see you hold on to the regret for the rest of your life.”
I nod, unable to speak words. My heart and my head are at war, as they’ve been for the last week, but there’s one thing they can agree on. I miss the fuck out of her.
Gabe gives Buddy a little attention before walking out of the garage and heading back to his own truck. I hear it start and pull out of my driveway, but it’s his words that really have my attention.
Don’t let the what-ifs keep you from living the life you want, Marcus.
And dammit, I want Ryan.
In my bed, in my heart, and in my home.
Yeah, there’s some serious logistics to take into consideration, but for the first time, I’m willing to consider them. All of them. Because like Ryan, I need all the pieces to the puzzle too, or it’ll impact the picture. And the picture I see includes the woman I’ve fallen in love with.
Now it’s time to do something about it.
The elevator dings, announcing my arrival. I adjust the tie around my neck for the hundredth time, wishing I could rip it off and throw it in the trash, but knowing it’s part of the required attire for tonight’s celebration event.
I step through the open elevator doors and am surrounded by wealth. It oozes from the attendees like sap from a tree. Their jewelry sparkles, their designer threads scream to be noticed. But my eyes are drawn instantly to the woman on stage. There stands Ryan, wearing a stunning red dress that hugs her curves in ways I dream about.
“Please help me welcome the new product ambassador of Ryan Holmes Cosmetics, Miss Desi Amora,” Ryan says proudly, as the room erupts into applause.
I recognize the woman walking across the stage, moving to stand beside the woman I love. She waves to the crowd before giving Ryan air kisses and taking her position at the microphone.
“I couldn’t be prouder to partner with Ryan and Ryan Holmes Cosmetics,” Desi starts.
“Champagne, sir?” a man holding a tray of flutes ask.
“No, thank you,” I reply, starting to make my way to the front of the room. I stick to the side, not wanting to be the guy who walks right up the middle of the room.
As I approach the stage, Ryan says, “Thank you all, again, for coming this evening. Please enjoy the champagne and hors d’oeuvres and the—” She stops talking, her eyes landing firmly on mine. Those gorgeous brown eyes register shock as she gapes down at me from her position on the stage. “Band,” she finally finishes, clearing her throat. “Thank you,” she adds, earning a round of applause.
The ladies stay up on stage, taking a few photographs. In between each one, she looks my way, as if trying to gauge whether or not her mind is playing tricks on her. I stand back, letting her have the spotlight and soak up all the attention she’s receiving. She’s earned this and deserves every bit of it.
Finally, after taking what feels like a thousand photographs, she excuses herself and heads in my direction. I can’t help but notice the slight tremble in her hand as she reaches out and grabs the railing, descending the four steps on the side of the stage.
“Marcus,” she whispers when she stands directly in front of me.
Reaching out, I grab her hand and bring it to my lips, placing a gentle kiss on her knuckles. I can’t help but notice the way she shivers at the featherlight touch. “You look absolutely breathtaking,” I tell her, noting the swell of her breasts and the way her breathing hitches in the red strapless dress.
“Thank you.” She clears her throat, glancing around. No one seems to be paying us any attention. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to tell you something.”
Her eyes widen. “Really? Now?”
“It couldn’t wait any longer,” I insist, reaching for the tie and giving it a gentle tug.
She notices my action and smiles. “You’re wearing a tie.”
I nod once. “It was the dress code.”
She looks around, as if taking in the suits, tuxedos, and fancy dresses around the room. “Yes, I suppose it is.” Her eyes hold so much confusion, yet I catch a glimmer of hope reflecting back at me. “How did you get in?”
I glance over her shoulder and smile. “They helped me.”
Ryan turns and finds her parents standing across the room, watching. I have yet to meet them, but I spoke to her mom on the phone when I came up with this idea. She was positively gleeful with excitement and insisted on helping me set my plan into motion.
“My parents?”
I nod, reaching for her hand and pulling her toward the side of the stage. With the band now playing, it’s a little more difficult to have a private conversation. Of course, we’re standing in the middle of the ballroom, smack-dab in the center of her celebration event. “I called your mom.”
Her pink lips part as her mouth falls open. “You called my mother? How?”
I chuckle and shake my head. “Believe it or not, it wasn’t that difficult. I tried to reach your father first, but I quickly discovered it would probably have been easier to speak to the President of the United States on the phone than Douglas Marcotte.”
She grins.
“Your mom’s email address was listed on the website for the charity she runs, so I reached out to her. She called me back within an hour.”
“Wow,” she murmurs, as if trying to process that bit of news.
“She helped me get a ticket to tonight’s event so I could tell you face-to-face what I’ve been needing to say.”
“And that is?” she asks. I’m pretty sure she’s holding her breath, and she wouldn’t be the only one.
It’s now or never.
“I love you.”