Chapter Forty-Seven. Holden
FORTY-SEVEN
Holden
Her hair is up and her head is down as she works at her desk, and every fucking part of me wants to walk into her office and take what I can from her until I’m satisfied.
Funny thing is, I don’t think I’ll ever be.
But I study her from just beyond her office window as she works.
I don’t question if I did the right thing when it came to arranging the confrontation at The Vine—it was.
I don’t wonder if I should have stood up for her in the boardroom—she did just fucking fine.
And I don’t second-guess whether what I’m doing with TinSpirits is right or wrong—sometimes being wrong is the only kind of right you need.
But I do know she is the collateral damage in all this.
At first that didn’t bug me one fucking bit. It still shouldn’t. Isn’t that what I came here for? What I’ve planned for.
But … fuck. I care about her. I more than care about her. But what does that mean when destroying her family is my endgame?
I step into her doorway and I clap. It’s slow and loud and it’s well deserved.
She jolts at the sound of it and then immediately jumps up and moves to look out the door.
“You can’t be in here,” she says, clearly putting space between us.
“Why not?”
“Because this whole stunt—whatever happened at The Vine, the power play you are all engaged in—it robbed us of the leisure or right of having any alone time in the office without gossip.”
“The office is vacant. Everyone went home.”
“You don’t get it, do you? Your car is in the lot.
My car is in the lot. At an empty office building.
One person drives by in this fucked-up town and the gossip mill starts again about what we’re doing here and how we always seem to be working late, and despite everything I said in there today, the assumption is I’m still sleeping my way into my position.
” She groans in frustration. “These are things men don’t have to think about.
That you don’t have to think about. Or how I have to work twice as hard to get an iota of any credit.
” She turns her back to me and walks to the other side of the office.
“Go away, Holden. You messed this up. You put me in the crosshairs. You won’t admit it, you’ll gaslight me into believing that you can’t trust me, but at the end of the day, all of this is on you and I’m the one who has to pay the fucking price for it. ”
I look at her, the frustration, the exhaustion, and I see it. I don’t want to because I’m not supposed to care, but I see it.
I messed up at The Vine. I see that now. I know that now. But fuck if it wasn’t the only way to jumpstart the one thing I need for myself in all this—her not to be with fucking Chad.
Call me selfish. Call me a prick. Call me a man who’s falling for a woman he can’t goddamn have.
“I’m sorry what happened put you in this situation.” I choose my words carefully. “You handled the board like a pro.”
“You mean the board and their meeting that you didn’t even tell me about? And I’m supposed to think you have my back moving forward?”
“I do have your back. That’s what I was trying to do today. Have your back. Fight for you. Stand up for you.”
“Uh-huh.” She sounds rather unimpressed. “And you don’t think that would have just further proven their point? That I need a man to speak for me, think for me, promote me, because I’m just a little woman who can’t do that myself?”
I groan. “It’s clear I can’t do anything right at the moment.”
“You don’t get it. You don’t understand what I was willing to compromise on, what I was willing to risk—you know what?
Never mind. What you said at my door the other night is true and you just proved it.
You are the one who doesn’t trust me. Not to defend myself.
Not to stand up for myself. Not to look at you and want you and mean it when I say I trust you. So … yeah. You win.”
I open my mouth and close it. There are fucking minefields at every turn in this conversation. And normally, I’d take my chances. Step at will and see what happens, but not right now. Not with that fury fresh on her face and that innocence still hidden behind those eyes.
“There’s no winning when you’re mad at me.”
“Then don’t make me mad at you,” she states.
Fuck. This woman. She’s … “You’re a force to be reckoned with, you know that? I’ve never seen the definition of fight fire with fire and yet you did just that earlier. It was … impressive. Incredible. You were impressive and incredible.”
“I don’t want your compliments, Holden. I don’t need my ego stroked.”
I nod, lean my back against the doorjamb, and cross my arms over my chest. “Then what do you want?”
“I want you to acknowledge this shitstorm you created for me. That your selfishness, for whatever reason it might be, jealousy over Chad, needing to prove who had the bigger dick, I don’t fucking know what—caused all of this for me. Not you. For me.”
She’s right.
Every fucking word.
But I stare at her with steely eyes and know I fell a little bit harder for her earlier as she dismantled those old fuckers on the board—one by fucking one.
“How’d you know all that?” I ask. All things I knew, but am impressed that she did too.
She shrugs and smirks. “I know a lot of things about a lot of things.” Except for me. You don’t know shit about me. “And you’re not acknowledging shit, Holden.”
“I told you before that I don’t give a fuck about gossip … but I do give a fuck about you. When I’m wrong, I say I’m wrong.” I hold my hands out. “You more than held your own in there, Sunshine.”
“Don’t call me that. I’m mad at you.”
“I’ve never been more proud of someone before. Not like that. You were a master class in kicking ass.”
“Don’t. Just stop.” Tears well in her eyes as she shakes her head from side to side.
“Hey. Shh. What is it?” I step in to her and cup the side of her face. “Talk to me.”
“You hurt me.”
There’s the fucking gut punch I wasn’t expecting. Fire and brimstone are much easier to respond to. “I’m sorry you were hurt.” I brush my lips against hers and lean my forehead against hers.
“I meant what I said. All of it. Especially the trust part.”
“Me too.”
“I was calling off the whole marriage charade, Holden. That night at The Vine. I was going to tell you.”
My body jolts and chest constricts. “You were? You are? Because Chad, your mom, they’re carrying on like—”
“Yes,” she says, her lips whispering against mine. “I just need some time to right all the wrongs I’ve made personally before I announce it publicly.”
“Fine. Yes. Whatever.”
And as our lips meet again and our hands slide up and down each other’s backs, I get the nagging feeling that as much as I want this, it’s the worst possible thing for me.
When she was with Chad, I had no other option but to keep everything at bay—my feelings for her, the depths of the depravity I felt toward Rhett and Chad, the plans for the future that I wanted to see.
Now there are no restrictions.
Now there is nothing holding me back.
How horrible is it to be falling in love with the woman you’re going to destroy?
I’ll let you in on a little secret.
It’s royally fucked up, is what it is.