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As Kimmie looked down at him, seemingly speechless, time seemed to freeze. It was like nothing else existed. Everything hinged on the words that were about to come out of her mouth.
“Yes!” It came out in a big burst, as though she’d been holding it in this entire time.
All the stress left Jesse in that moment. He hadn’t even realized just how tense he’d been over the past few days.
He opened the box and pulled out the ring. It was a placeholder ring. They’d pick out another one later. Although he’d had some ideas for what she’d like, he didn’t want to make that choice for her.
He rose to his feet, and their lips met in a long, passionate kiss. Only when he heard cheers and applause did Jesse realize they had attracted a crowd. He stepped back and looked around. No fewer than ten people surrounded them.
“I think maybe it’s time for the rest of your surprise,” he told Kimmie. “How does a private dinner for two sound?”
She gave him a big smile. “It sounds perfect. I love you.”
Those words were exactly what he’d wanted to hear all along.
* * *
Love strikes Lyric Toweragain inLanding the Billionaire, Book 1 in the Music City Billionaires series. Keep reading for a preview ofLanding the Billionaire.
He’d survivedthe Nashville marathon only to break his leg on a set of golf clubs in the hallway.
That was Grayston Young’s first thought as he felt the obstacle under his feet and started tumbling, face-first, toward the ground. Somehow, he’d managed to twist so that when he came down, he landed on his side, but he wasn’t able to save his phone. It went hurling through the air and landed with an ominous clack somewhere off in the distance.
What onEarth?
It took Grayston a second to catch his breath, but when he did, he sat up and looked at what had tripped him up. Golf clubs. They were in a pile, with no bag in sight. Nobody who loved golf would toss their clubs into the hallway like this.
Grayston pushed himself to his feet, grateful everything still seemed to be functioning okay. The next question was, what had caused it in the first place?
He looked around, hands on his hips. The golf clubs were only the beginning. All along the wall in front of Unit 1402 were piles of junk. It looked like someone had moved the contents of the condo into the hallway.
Four years ago, Grayston purchased Lyric Tower, which had been a combination of government and legal offices. The owner didn’t seem interested in renovating the dilapidated building, but Grayston knew a good investment when he saw it. He’d cleared the building out, overhauled it with the help of his crew, and made a huge profit by selling the spaces as condos.
Maybe it was because he lived here now, but Grayston was extra protective of this particular investment. He owned developments all over this city, as well as in the surrounding suburbs, but this was his home.
And someone had just strewn the hallways of his home with junk.
Grayston followed the trail of framed art, knickknacks, and computer equipment to the door of 1402. He hesitated. Kingston Knight owned this unit. He had the disposition of a yellow-bellied toad, so Grayston wasn’t looking forward to confronting him. The man had barely grunted at him every time they passed in the hall, and Grayston had even heard the guy yelling at one of his housekeepers one morning. So he’d really like nothing more than to kick the guy out for violating association bylaws.
Taking a deep breath, Grayston lifted his hand, balled up his fist, and banged on the door. There was a doorbell but pushing a button with his finger didn’t release anger quite the way a knock did.
“Coming!”
That wasn’t the voice of Kingston Knight. It was the unexpectedly pleasant voice of a woman. Grayston stepped back, frowning as he contemplated what he’d walked into. Had Kingston convinced a woman to date his grumpy self?
If so,how?
The door opened, and a woman stood there, her perfect frame highlighted by the bright condo behind her. She wore, of all things, a pair of cowboy boots, some shorts, and a men’s bomber jacket. On her head was a baseball cap, but not the kind he would expect. It was the trucker type with mesh on the back part.
Had he hit his head when he fell? Maybe all of this was a dream. Maybe he’d passed out during the marathon and now he was in a coma in the hospital.
“Are you Ben?” she asked.
Grayston frowned. The truly puzzling thing here was that he wished hewasBen. He wanted to be Ben so he could say yes and see where this went from there.
Yeah. He was long overdue for a date.
“I’m Grayston,” he said.
