Page 84 of Wild Promise

The noise dimmed. The crowd blurred. The music, the clinking glasses, the laughter and applause—all of it faded to a low, distant hum until the only thing I could hear was my own heartbeat and the only thing I could feel was his hand shaking in mine.

His eyes were glassy and red-rimmed, his jaw tight, and the look on his face was something I’d never seen on him before. Not the charm. Not the confidence. Not the mask he wore for the rest of the world.

Just him. Stripped bare. Completely undone.

“Firecracker,” he whispered, his voice wrecked. “What did you do?”

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.