Chapter 9 #2
I grab my keys from the counter. “Good. I won’t be long.”
She blinks. “Where are you going?”
“Out.” I pull my hair into a ponytail, my pulse beating fast and steady. “To get my power back.”
Romy’s mouth curves as she lifts her arm and gives the air a fist bump. “Of course you are. You go, girl, show the man what you’re made of.”
I ignore her grin, shoving open the door and stepping out into the bright morning. The sun’s too cheerful, the air too clean, but it doesn’t matter. I know exactly where I’m going.
If Zach Fitzgerald thinks he can make all the decisions about my life, I’m going to reeducate him.
I pull my car into an empty visitor space outside the Grand Liberty Hotel.
The building’s bright white exterior sparkles beneath the sunlight, the long porch lined with designer chairs and hanging baskets overflowing with flowers.
The place looks like it belongs on the cover of a glossy travel magazine, not part of a sleepy island town.
My sandals hit the painted wood as I walk up the wide steps, and into the main entrance. I nod at the reception staff who know me from my many visits bringing books to guests who need a holiday read.
“Hey Sadie,” Lianne, the day receptionist says. “More deliveries?”
“Actually, no.” I shake my head. “I’m here to see Zach Fitzgerald. Could you let him know I’m here?”
She nods. “Is he expecting you?”
I bite down a laugh, because no, I really don’t think he is.
“It’s a surprise,” I tell her. “But I think he’ll see me.”
“Give me a minute,” She walks to the back of the reception area and lifts up a phone, murmuring into it with a voice so low I can’t hear the words. Then she looks back over to me.
“Mr. Fitzgerald says you can go through. She points at a door marked ‘private’. “His apartment is the last one on the right.”
She buzzes me through, and I’m suddenly in an oak-paneled corridor that smells faintly of polish and sea air. Light pours through tall windows on one side, reflecting against framed photographs of Liberty’s coastline, its beaches and boats captured in soft gold tones.
I walk past three doors. One has Hudson Fitzgearld’s name outside. The next has Main Office written on the brass plaque. The two next to it have ‘owner’s apartments’ written on them. I head for the one on the right, as directed.
My steps feel heavy as I reach the final oversized oak door. Though it’s closed, his voice carries through, low and graveled.
“You’re doing well. Keep at it. And call me when you need me.”
Dear God, if Mylene heard that, her praise kink would probably explode.
There’s a pause, and then a faint crackle from the speakerphone, a reply from whoever he’s speaking to.
Zach exhales. “Just try to get some rest. You need sleep.”
My fingers curl tighter around my bag strap. His voice is soft. Almost cajoling. Like he’s talking to a woman.
Why do I hate that thought?
I raise my hand and knock against the door.
“Come in, it’s open.”
He’s sitting at a large desk by the window, a laptop open in front of him, sunlight glinting off the sharp line of his jaw. His sleeves are rolled up, his tie loose, and the faint shadow of stubble shades his jaw. He looks tired, focused, and entirely too good.
He looks up when he sees me, surprise flickering across his face before his expression smooths into something unreadable.
“Sadie.” His voice is steady, but his eyes narrow slightly as he reads the words written across my chest. God, I’d forgotten I was wearing my HEA kink top. “How can I help you?”
His gaze lingers on my chest a moment too long. Tiny goosebumps break out on my skin.
“You resigned from the committee.”
He pushes his laptop closed, like he knows this isn’t a fleeting visit. “Coffee?” he asks.
“I just had one.” And I don’t need you being nice to me. “Mylene told me you resigned. Apparently Jesse told her.”
The corners of his lips curl and I hate how attractive he is when he smiles.
He should do it more often. “The Liberty grapevine. It’s always fun how fast that works.
” His eyes meet mine and I feel that jolt again.
Warmth rushes through me as he stands and runs a hand through his hair.
“And yes, I figured after yesterday it was best if I’m not involved.
I won’t be stealing your…” he trails off, and I remember my words of yesterday.
You stole my fantasies.
“I didn’t ask you to resign,” I tell him. He walks around the desk, leans against it, looking at me like he can’t figure me out.
“Yes you did. You said two people can’t be in control at the same time. You told me you had everything under control and I wasn’t needed.”
I lift my chin up. “And you told me you wanted to race for it.”
He winces. “I regret that. I’m an asshole…”
“You can’t say things like that and expect to take them back so easily.” I take a step forward without thinking about it. Like my body needs to close the gap between us.
His shoulders tense, but he doesn’t move. “You’re right,” he says finally, voice low. “I can’t take it back. But I can make sure I don’t annoy you again.”
“That’s not your call.” I stop in front of him, close enough to see the faint stubble on his jaw, the pulse ticking in his neck. “You don’t get to decide what I can handle. If you want to race for it, then we race for it.”
He blinks, his head tipping to the side like he’s trying to read me. He lets out a soft breath, and I wonder what he’s thinking.
Then his gaze dips to my mouth. To my throat. And I feel my skin start to heat.
“You said yourself, it wouldn’t be a fair race.” He tips his head to the side, his gaze not leaving mine.
“It doesn’t matter,” I say stubbornly. And yes, I’m annoyed. But I like the way he looks at me. I like the way my body responds to him.
I like the power I feel whenever I catch him looking t me.
“Either way you lose,” he murmurs. “You’ve already got what you wanted. Why would you risk it?”
Because I haven’t got what I want. And I feel it again. That power. It gives me courage.
“Because I decide when something’s finished. Nobody else.” I give him a pointed look.
That smile ghosts his lips again. He stares at me like I’m the most fascinating thing he’s ever seen. “And if I win, and I catch you…” His voice lowers.
My heart starts to race. “And if you catch me…”
“Then I get something. What I want.” There’s a tic in his jaw. I watch it, my breath ragged now.
My breath stutters. I should say no. Laugh it off. But I can’t seem to move. All I can think about is him catching me. Pulling me against him. Touching me. Everywhere. Until we’re both breathless.
Because I want it, too. Way too much.
He nods, like he can hear the words I haven’t said, then straightens, his voice calm again. “Very well. Tomorrow. Sunrise, outside the Salty Dog. You run, I’ll chase. And maybe we’ll both win.”
He gives a slow, knowing smile. Because we both know what happens if the prey gets caught.
And I want that. Maybe more than I want him off the committee.
Maybe more than I want to be in control.
“Tomorrow, then,” I say. “I’ll see you at first light.” My voice sounds stretched too thin. My body buzzes with anticipation.
I let out a long breath at the fact I just agreed to be chased by Zach Fitzgerald.
And an even longer one because I’m actually looking forward to it.
THE FITZGERALD FAMILY CHAT
AUTUMN:
Why is it that nobody in this family ever replies to my messages. Or answers my phone calls?
ZACH:
Are we talking about anybody specific here? Because I didn’t do it. It wasn’t me.
HUDSON:
Or me. I think…
AUTUMN:
It’s not you two for once. It’s Wyatt. I’ve called. I’ve texted. I even left a voicemail, like it’s 2004.
WYATT I NEED YOUR RSVP TO THE ART TRAIL GALA. It’s in three weeks. You’d better come.
ZACH:
Oof. She’s using all caps. You’re in trouble, man.
HUDSON:
I love the way she asks for his RSVP and then tells him he’s coming. It’s sweet. And just a little bit psychotic.
ASHER:
I like the way we all have to get involved in this. Like a group detention for something we haven’t done.
EDEN:
Honestly, if I ever get an all caps message from Autumn I’ll be on the next ferry out of here. She’s scary when she’s capital.
AUTUMN:
I will go full on grammatically correct if that’s what it takes.
ZACH:
You should send his invite via message in the bottle. He’s more likely to respond.
WYATT:
HUDSON:
Does that mean yes he’s coming?
ASHER:
I’m gonna go with a soft maybe.
EDEN:
I’m going with a hard yes because he’s as scared of Autumn as we are.
AUTUMN:
That better be a yes, Wyatt. Otherwise I will find you. And I will make you pay.
WYATT: