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“Smart men. I would do or giveanythingto have Becca back for even a day. I won’t waste your time asking if you love Noah because I know you do. And I won’t let you insult my intelligence by hearing you insist otherwise. You’re throwing your chance away.” He grabs my hands. “Stop before it’s too late. I’ll never love another day in my life, and I fucking regret that I let my wife drive to her appointment in that rainstorm because I was too busy to tell the windbag on my phone to shove his sales pitch up his ass and take her myself. I certainly treasure the time I had with her, but what’s worse is regretting every moment we’ll never share—the children we’ll never have, the adventures we might have taken, the gray hairs we’ll never fret about together… Don’t throw away what might be a lifetime of love together.” He stands suddenly. “I’ve overstepped my boundaries, haven’t I? Did I mention that I’m not good socially?”
His words—and the emotion he’s forcing himself to bury—bring me to tears, and it’s all I can do to hold myself together. I can’t imagine how much admitting that cost him emotionally. But he’s right.
And I’ve been a terrible idiot.
“You did mention it, but you didn’t overstep. Thank you for looking out for me and for being so honest.”
“Of course. You and your brothers, along with your spouses, have been more family than I’ve ever had. If Rebecca could see me now, she’d be smiling.” We hug again, this time much less awkwardly than our greeting. He tugs at my ear fondly. “Go get your husband. I can’t be happy for myself anymore, so you be happy for both of us.”
* * *
The Four Seasons in Wailea is a gorgeous paradise and someday I’ll stop to appreciate it. But today I only care about my husband. His press conference starts in three minutes and I have to get there before everything goes horribly wrong.
I ached to see him last night, but after Evan’s departure, Britta and Keeley were rattling around the house, worried about my brothers’ return from wherever the FBI had taken them. Besides, I wanted to take time to be one hundred percent sure of my decision.
So we watched a funny chick flick, baked brownies, and stayed up until the guys came in after one a.m., utterly exhausted. But they were smiling. They’d been able to add surprisingly helpful information for the FBI, and the case against our parents is now looking tight, according to the special agent who interrogated them. All it took was for one whistleblower—one of my father’s former assistants/mistresses—and their entire scheme began to crumble. They’re both in custody and it doesn’t look as if they’ll be getting out anytime soon.
Maybe I should pity them or feel sadness that my parents are probably going away for a long time. But no. They’re getting what they deserve. They won’t be able to hurt anyone again. My brothers and I, along with our spouses and future kids, can finally be a family without their dark presence in our lives. We can finally look to the future.
And after sleeping on it and listening to Keeley’s playlist again, I’m more sure of the future I want than ever.
I scramble down a series of hallways and wonder why these places are always like a maze. It’s frustrating. Parking was a bitch, and I just want to reach Noah, say my piece…and let the chips fall.
When I approach the meeting room, reporters are already jammed into the space, double-checking equipment and jockeying for the best angle. No one notices me as I slip in the back, hair pulled into a braid, borrowed ball cap low over my face.
My heart is pounding and my palms are sweating. This could end fairy-tale happy…or Greek-tragedy sad. The fear I haven’t learned to tame yet still nips at my heels with a hundred what-if questions and the accompanying doomsday scenarios. I shove them all down.
I’m choosing to embrace love.
Right on schedule, Cliff files into the front of the room, to a bank of mics set up at a podium behind a long banquet table. Noah is right behind him.
My heart stutters. If that sounds trite, I don’t know how else to describe my chest seizing up in joy at the sight of him, then pounding again simply because we’re in the same room together.
When he steps out of the shadow, he looks as big and Alpha and sexy as hell as usual. But he also looks exhausted, resigned. Grim.
I did that to him. Never mind if I might hurt him in the future. I’ve brought him pain now. And that’s something Noah Weston, football great and amazing husband, should never feel because of me. All season, he should be in the booth, providing the best color commentary for the sport that’s made him the man he is. The rest of the year, he should be letting me give him all my love and devotion.
He’ll give everything up if I don’t stop him. And he’s willing to do that. For me. To prove something I don’t need him to.
That realization tears at my heart.
Cliff steps behind the podium and taps the mic in the middle with his finger. It’s definitely hot, and the screeching feedback has reporters covering their ears. Then he clears his throat. “Ladies and gentlemen, Noah Weston has a major announcement about his professional future. The message is prerecorded. He will only take questions afterward about the video.”
A tech dressed in a collared shirt with the hotel’s logo springs into action and taps a few keys to launch whatever they recorded onto the screen behind us as the lights dim.
I know what Noah’s announcement is, and I’m not having it. This is my moment. It’s now or never.
With my insides churning and chugging, I push away from the wall, tear off my ball cap, and stride down the middle aisle like a badass bitch with a point to make. “I know you said Noah would take questions after the announcement, but how about a comment beforehand?”
My husband’s head jerks up. He sees me. Our gazes meet, and a zip rolls down my spine. Brutal relief rips across his face as he stands. His eyes pierce me with hope and something that’s unmistakably lust. “You have something to say?”
Every camera suddenly swerves and points in my direction as I smile out my love to Noah. “Yeah. Wanna hear it?”
Noah doesn’t bother walking around the table. He leaps over and meets me halfway across the room. I hold out my arms to him and he takes me into his own. Our bodies meet. His heat seeps into me. His musky scent is arousing, but it’s also as familiar as coming home. He clasps me so tight I can barely breathe, but I don’t need to. I have the man I’ve realized I can’t breathe without.
“Why are you here, baby?” he whispers in my ear.
“Because I can’t let you give up this opportunity.”
