Chapter Thirty
Zane
The suit was different this time.
Same charcoal grey, same stiff collar, same tie that felt like it was slowly strangling me.
But this time, I wasn’t wearing it for my father.
The deal with him wasn’t finalized—he’d said after the holidays, which in Bowen-speak could mean anything—but I’d accepted.
I’d surrendered. And now the suit had a different purpose.
I was wearing it for her.
I’d flown back from New York yesterday, and I still hadn’t slept. Fuck, I hadn’t found a moment’s rest since she walked out on me. I was running on a level of sleep deprivation and anxiety that bordered on medical.
My bed felt too big without her. My house too fucking cold and empty. And everywhere I turned, I kept catching whiffs of pumpkin spice.
So I’d put the suit back on and driven to the one place I had left to go.
I stood in the lobby of the resort, hands in my pockets, watching people stream toward the ballroom.
Music thumped through the doors every time they swung open.
Laughter, conversation, the clink of glasses.
All the sounds of a place I’d known my entire life.
Only now I didn’t belong here. I wasn’t staff.
Wasn’t a guest. Wasn’t anything, really, except a guy in a suit he hated, hovering in a lobby he used to walk through like he owned it.
But I’d been planning this since the moment I quit.
Walking away from the resort was only half the play.
The other half was standing in front of Melina and telling her why.
Telling her everything. Tonight was her night, the culmination of everything she’d worked for, and I wasn’t going to let her do it alone.
Even if she didn’t want me here. Even if she told me to leave the second she saw me.
Nate had texted me this morning.
Be here tonight. Or else. Trust me.
As if I needed the push. I’d been coming no matter what. But knowing he had my back made the knot in my stomach a fraction less unbearable.
The plan was simple. Find her. Tell her the truth—that I’d quit, that I’d gone to my father, that I’d given up the only life I’d ever known because none of it meant a damn thing without her. And then tell her the one thing I’d never said to anyone.
That I was in love with her.
Completely, fucking terrifyingly in love with her. And if she’d have me, I wasn’t going anywhere. Not ever.
Yeah, the plan was simple, terrifying, and quite possibly doomed.
But fuck it. I’d rather go down swinging than spend the rest of my life wondering what would have happened if I’d only tried.
I pushed through the ballroom doors and was immediately swallowed by the noise. The place was packed with Noma employees, townspeople, and resort staff. Conversation and laughter filled every corner, and the room glowed with warm light and music.
Melina had done this. All of it. And it was spectacular.
I found a spot near the edge of the dance floor where I could scan the room without drawing too much attention. I needed a minute to get my bearings. To find her. To remember how to breathe.
The room was stunning. Blue and gold decorations, perfectly spaced tables, a dance floor already full of couples. And in the corner, the Christmas tree I’d arranged for her. Massive and covered in lights, looking even better than I’d hoped.
At least one thing I’d done for her had made it to the finish line.
I spotted a table near the front with Lucy and Olivia, Avery, Wyatt, and Lydia. But no sign of Melina.
My stomach clenched. I shoved my hands deeper into my pockets and kept scanning, shifting my weight from one foot to the other, trying to look like I belonged here. Like I hadn’t just blown up my entire life and come crawling back to beg.
Then I saw her. Walking toward me through the crowd like a fucking goddess in the gold dress I’d bought for her. The one I’d caught a glimpse of her in through the fitting room curtain. The fabric caught the light with every step, and she looked so beautiful it physically hurt.
Every rehearsed word, every carefully planned sentence, every version of the speech I’d been building in my head—all of it evaporated.
“Hey,” she said when she finally reached me.
“Hey,” I croaked.
Her eyes searched mine, but I couldn’t tell if she’d come to throw me out or throw me a lifeline.
“Melina, I need to talk—”
“I know.” Her voice was tight. “And I need to talk to you too. But not yet. Okay?”
I swallowed past the boulder in my throat but still couldn’t manage more than a nod.
The lights flashed. A spotlight fell on the raised podium beside the DJ table, and the last person I expected to see stepped up to the microphone.
My uncle.
Glenn didn’t do public. He was reserved, private, content to let Wyatt handle anything with a crowd. But tonight he was front and center, wearing a smile I hadn’t seen on him since Eric’s wedding.
My hands balled into fists at my sides as he welcomed the room. The words washed over me because all I could focus on was the fact that my uncle was standing at that podium.
Then his gaze swept the room, landed on Melina, and his whole face softened.
He announced her promotion like it was the highlight of his evening.
And fuck, maybe it was. Every word out of his mouth was deserved, and hearing someone finally say it out loud, in front of this many people, filled my chest until it felt like it might split in two.
I was clapping before he’d even finished. Hard and fast and probably too loud, but I didn’t care. She’d earned this. Every late night, every crisis, every second of stress—it had all led here.
“That’s my girl,” I murmured, my gaze locked on hers.
Tears spilled down her cheeks, and I wanted so badly to wrap her in my arms. To kiss her senseless. Claim her in front of everyone.
But Glenn wasn’t done.
“I also have a family announcement,” he said, and something in his tone shifted. It was heavier. More personal. And it made my stomach drop.
He said something about the family legacy, then mentioned my father’s name and a single word that changed everything.
Sold.
It hit me like a sucker punch. My hands fell to my sides and every muscle in my body locked.
What the hell was going on?
Melina’s hand found mine. Her fingers slid through my own and held on, and some distant part of my brain registered that her grip was deliberate. Like she knew what was coming.
But that was impossible.
“As of this morning,” Glenn continued, like his speech was just fucking routine. “The new co-owner of Copper Ridge Resort is my nephew. Zane Alexander.”
The room erupted around me, but everything was muffled and distant, like it was happening to someone else.
My ears were ringing. My lungs had stopped working. My hand clamped down on Melina’s so hard I was probably hurting her, but I couldn’t make myself let go.
He’d named me co-owner. Me.
That wasn’t my plan. I hadn’t bought anything. I’d quit. I’d flown to New York and sat in my father’s cold office and accepted a job I didn’t want because it was the only way I could think of to get out of Melina’s way.
And now I owned half the resort?
How the fuck…
“Three generations of Alexanders have built this place,” Glenn said, his voice rougher now. “And I couldn’t be prouder of the one who’s stepping up to carry it forward.”
Proud. Glenn was proud of me. My uncle, who never said things like that, who showed his love through quiet acts and practical gestures, was telling everyone he was proud of me.
And I was standing here, blindsided, in the same suit I’d worn to my father’s office, with a speech in my head that was suddenly, completely irrelevant.
The noise of the room filtered back in, and I could feel the crowd closing in around us. But I didn’t care about any of them.
All I could see, all I could feel, was Melina.
She wasn’t surprised. That was the thing that got me. The room was losing its mind, people were shouting my name, and Melina Marshall was standing there with tears on her face and my hand in a death grip, and she wasn’t even a little bit surprised.
She’d known.
I didn’t know how. Didn’t know when or who she’d talked to or what kind of impossible strings she’d pulled. But the look on her face—steady, raw, terrified, and certain all at once—told me everything I needed to know.
She’d done this. Somehow, some way, Melina had done this.
“Firecracker,” I whispered, my voice wrecked. “What did you do?”
“Exactly the same thing you would have done for me.” Her voice broke on the last word. “I went to Eric. I told him everything. Then we got on a conference call with your uncle, and I asked him to help me bring you home.”
“You went to my family…for me.”
“No. I did it for us.” She pressed her palm flat against my chest. “I’m sorry I didn’t trust you. I’m sorry I pushed you away. And I’m sorry I let you walk out of this place thinking you had to give it up to be with me.”
Sorry. Three times. The word she’d hated, the one she’d made me promise never to say—and she was handing it to me like a gift. Not because the word had changed, but because she had.
“Melina—”
“I love you,” she said, cutting me off. “I love you, and I should have said it before you left. I should have said it instead of all the awful things I did say. You didn’t pity me. You never pitied me. You just loved me, and I was too scared to see it.”
“I love you too. Fuck, Melina, I’ve been trying to say that since the night you walked out.”
Her smile was immediate and fucking stunning. “Then say it again.”
“I love you. I love you, and I’m not going anywhere.”
She pressed her face into my chest, and I felt her whole body shudder. I pulled her closer, my lips against her hair, holding her until the trembling stopped.
“Glenn didn’t buy your father out, exactly,” she said, leaning back to look me in the eye. “He used the trust fund. Bowen agreed to forfeit future contributions in exchange for signing over his stake.”
I stared at her. The trust fund. The money I’d hated my entire life, the monthly deposit I’d tried to refuse, the cash that had made me sick every time I spent it.
Fuck. “You used my dirty money to buy my freedom.”
“Glenn did. I just pointed him in the right direction.”
I shook my head, grinning like an idiot. This woman—impossible, brilliant, and all fucking mine.
“And your promotion.” I held her gaze. “You earned it. You know that, right? Every word Glenn said up there was true. I’m so fucking proud of you.”
Her chin trembled. “You really mean that.”
“I’ve never meant anything more.” I brushed a tear from her cheek with my thumb. “I just wish I hadn’t almost ruined it for you.”
“You didn’t. Wyatt and I talked. Glenn’s speech made it clear to everyone in this room that my promotion had nothing to do with your name.” She smiled. “And he dissolved the fraternization policy for good measure, so there’s that.”
“You thought of everything.”
“I learned from the best.” She reached up and tugged my tie loose, pulling the knot free. “Now take this off. You look ridiculous.”
“I feel ridiculous. This thing has been choking me all night.”
She popped the top button of my shirt. “That’s because it’s not who you are.”
No. It wasn’t. The suit, the corner office, the deal with my father—none of it was me. This was me. Standing in the place I’d grown up in, with a loosened collar and the woman I loved, surrounded by people who actually knew me. Not just my last name.
This was home. She was home.
The room was still buzzing. People were watching. My family was watching. Her family was watching.
And I didn’t give one single fuck.
I cupped her face in my hands and kissed her.
Deep and slow and thorough enough to make up for every day I’d spent without her.
The room erupted one more time with cheers, whistles, and someone who was definitely Olivia screaming.
But all I could feel was Melina’s hands in my hair, her body pressed against mine, and the steady, certain beat of her heart against my chest.
The DJ, mercifully, chose that moment to crank the music. Within seconds, the dance floor was filling up, and the attention shifted away from us.
When I finally pulled back enough to breathe, I rested my forehead against hers.
“Come home with me tonight,” I murmured. “The new co-owner of Copper Ridge Resort has a few things he’d like to celebrate.”
“Only if you make me one more promise.”
“Anything. Name it.”
“Promise you’ll bring me a snickerdoodle when we’re done.”
I laughed. “That’s actually one promise I can’t keep.”
Her mouth dropped open in mock offense, but it closed around a moan when I bent to drag my lips up her neck. I kissed and nipped from her collarbone to her earlobe, my scruff scratching across her skin, until I reached her ear.
“I don’t ever plan on being done with you, firecracker.”