Chapter Fifteen #3
Cole scoffs, peeling a wet glove off with a pop. “That’s me being me, Stopwatch. Jumping in is easy. What you did, all that magic behind the curtain, that’s what actually made the difference.”
“Uhhh, thank you,” I say, my heart doing that annoying flip again. “Okay, new plan. We pause the competition, pretend we’ve been nothing but friendly colleagues, and let the higher-ups make the decision. Fair?”
“No.”
“What?! Are you serious?” I snap, hands on my hips. “I’m being diplomatic here. I even managed to sound sincere. What more do you want, a parade?”
“Pass.”
He walks off like he didn’t just light me on fire. I storm after him.
“You insufferable dick!” I hiss. “I was right! We can’t work as a team. You’re impossible! You’re reckless, you’re arrogant, and—”
“Whoa, whoa… leave my dick out of this.” He grins, all teeth. “He didn’t make the call.”
“What call?”
Cole peels the suit down to his waist in one rough motion, revealing a broad, wet chest and those detestable forearms of his.
“Oh, wow! Real mature. Flashing your muscles to distract me? Nuh-uh. This fight is just getting started!”
“We’ll see, Stopwatch.”
Gah! He drives me nuts!
I open my mouth, ready to destroy him with facts, logic, and a killer insult, but he looks down and digs through his bag as though I’m not here.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“Looking for something, obviously.”
He continues his pursuit of God knows what. When he doesn’t find what he’s searching for, he flips the entire bag upside down and dumps the contents onto the slick wood.
I cross my arms. “This dumpster diving of yours! This is exactly why labels exist. Systems. Organization. A place for everything.”
“Hold that lecture.” He unlocks his phone and holds it out. “Read that while I get out of this sweat blanket.”
I take it reluctantly.
On the screen is a text thread to Reece. Our boss. The timestamp reads from before the livestream started.
Cole: I get it now. Impact, not noise. I’m bowing out. Ivy’s the right call. She’s the one you want.
Reece: You sure?
Cole: Never been more sure of anything in my life.
I read it.
I read it again slower.
The words don’t change. They just sit there, factual and devastating, with a timestamp that does not lie.
“Wait.” I meet his eyes. “You did this?”
Cole pulls his shirt on, ruffles his damp hair, and steps into my space. His hand finds mine, threading our fingers together as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.
“To be clear,” he says with uncharacteristic sincerity. “You didn’t win because I stepped aside. I stepped aside because you won. That is not the same thing. I need that big brain of yours to understand that.”
I’m dumbfounded. My mouth is open, but no sound is coming out.
Because… what?!
That’s not how this works.
That’s not how people work.
“And no, I didn’t do that to win you,” he adds, thumb brushing over my knuckles. “But if it gets me a shot? I’ll take it. Because you’re all I think about. Every damn second.”
“Are you sure? About me?” I hear myself say. “I’m a lot. Like, a lot. There’s probably somebody less high maintenance.”
“There is no one like you, Stopwatch.”
And then he kisses me.
This kiss isn’t desperate or playful. It’s a declaration. It burrows into my bones and marks me as his.
When I finally pull free, my mental checklists are firing. “So then what are we? I mean, I can do casual. Casual is fine. I just need to wrap my head around the parameters and the logistical boundaries—”
“Ivy.” He stops me with certainty. “This ain’t casual. I just got you back. There’s no chance in hell I’m walking away. Get used to me.”
He leans in to kiss me again, when—
“INCOMING!” Blaze’s voice booms across the deck, his camera swinging wildly as he captures the moment. “FAM! FAM! OH MY GOD! The most EPIC reunion EVER CAPTURED! Get ready to LOSE YOUR MINDS!”
We turn.
The dinghy bumps the hull as Sienna lifts the pup onto the deck. Its paws hit the teak with a thud, and a sharp, panicked bark rips through the air. The mother, swaddled in blankets, raises her head slowly, then suddenly, as if that sound belongs only to her.
The crew parts, silent. My grip tightens on Cole’s arm as the little one stumbles forward, its flippers slapping against the wood. Mother and baby meet in a tangle of flippers and cries, the baby pressing into her side. She nuzzles him fiercely, her muffled barks thick with relief.
Don’t cry, Ivy. Blink it back. Stay professional.
Cole swipes at his face and shrugs. “What? It’s emotional. I’ve got feelings. Sue me.”
I huff out a laugh. “Honestly? I’m realizing there’s way more to you than I thought, Hartwell.”
His hand drops to my ass possessively and the smirk that follows is pure, wicked promise. “Can’t wait to show you every last inch.”
I drag him in for another kiss, hungry and reckless, but he separates with a low chuckle, his thumb tracing my bottom lip. “Fuck. I forgot to ask. What’s the donation count?”
“I don’t care,” I growl, frustrated, and reach for him again, but his laugh rumbles against my mouth, stopping me cold.
“That’s cute. But we both know you better than that.”
I’m already towing him to the monitors, our hands wrapped in each other like we’re superglued. I snatch up my iPad, the screen bursts to life, and—
Holy. Mother. Of. Sea. Lions.
“Did we hit three mill?” Cole crowds behind me, his chin resting on my shoulder.
I swallow, my heart hammering. “No. We did better. Six point two million.”
His arms band around me, crushing me close, his voice rough with pride. “You did it!”
“We did it, Hartwell.”
Cole drags me in and kisses me like oxygen is optional.
His mouth skims my ear. “So this is how it works now, Stopwatch? Kissing the boss is part of the job?”
“I hate that nickname.”
“Fine.” He says, tapping his chin. “How about Boss Babe? Pain In My Ass, With Benefits? Trouble In Heels… Or, I got it, My Favorite Handful?”
“I will fire you.”
“You love me.”
I huff. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”
“Mm.” His palms settle at my waist, thumbs tracing slow, distracting patterns. “You’re closer than you think.”
“We’ll see,” I say, and even I don’t believe it.
“Good. Because I’ve got a plan to help you decide.”
I narrow my eyes. “You’re making plans now?”
“Special occasion.” His hand trails upward, a ghost of a touch grazing the side of my breast. “You. Me. My place. Bring the red lace.”
“And then?” I challenge, my pulse a frantic rhythm in my throat.
His smile turns lethal.
“Then we seal the deal.”
His kiss swallows my response and something inside me shatters. Every thought, every doubt, every reason why this shouldn’t happen vanishes.
There is only this moment. This truth.
I know, deep in my soul, I am chosen.
Deal.
Sealed.
I’m his.