Page 65 of Forbidden Desires

She’s coming back? “You mean I should pick her up?” I ask, desperation creeping into my voice. I’ve never cared enough about anyone to want to fix a mess I’ve caused, but when she walked out of my office the other day, I felt the loss of her immediately, and the thought of never seeing her again kills me.

“How can you run a multi-million-dollar company with no problem, but you’re a bumbling fool when it comes to one pretty little girl?” Elliot says, as if it’s all so obvious.

Parker pats me on the back. “Yeah, buddy, you should. You guys don’t have to sneak around anymore. The whole town knows you’re a thing. Go get your girl and fix this mess you created.”

They’re all right. I know they are. The realization hits me like a freight train, and a tidal wave of emotion crashes over me, fueled by regret, longing, and the burning desire to make things right. I check my watch. Ihave just enough time to make it. I’m not sure what I’m going to say to her when I see her. All I know is I have to see her and make this right.

Two hours later, I find myself standing at Savannah Airport’s arrivals lounge, clutching a bouquet of red and pink roses that Paisley expertly put together for me when I sped into the florist on my way here. Fear tightens its grip on my chest, pain slowly strangling me. What if she’s not as invested in this as I am? What if she decides she’s heading back to New York after a few days, realizing the quiet country life isn’t for her? Sweat beads on my forehead at the thought. I have to do whatever it takes to convince her to stay. I need her to stay.

Then, I spot her walking through, wheeling a small suitcase behind her, and it’s like time stands still. She’s dressed in blue jeans and a printed T-shirt, looking just as beautiful as the first night I laid eyes on her in that fancy pink dress. She’s the one for me. I know it by the way my heart races at the sight of her. Our eyes lock, and I see her surprise. She drops her bag and runs toward me. I abandon the flowers so I can get my hands on her, pulling her into me for a scorching kiss, claiming her mouth and showing her just how much I missed her. We don’t care that the place is filled with other travelers and anyone can see us. I kiss her like I’m going to die if I don’t, because it feels like I will.

I hold her close for as long as she’ll let me. Eventually, she pulls back. “You came to get me. I was expecting Paisley and Mae.” She smiles shyly.

“Are you disappointed?” I ask, unsure if I did the right thing or not.

She grins her showstopping smile, and my heart hammers harder. “Not at all. I have missed you so much these past couple of days.” I push some hair behind her ear, knowing she can’t have missed me as much as I have her.

“I’m glad you’re back.” I kiss her again, feeling all the unsaid words hanging in the air between us, but for right now, I’m just glad she’s home where she belongs. We can work out all the rest of it later.

“Better get my bag.” She laughs, running back to retrieve it.

I collect the flowers and hand them to her. “Paisley said you would like these,” I say, feeling silly.

“Did she? Is it Paisley who should get the thank-you kiss then?”

“No. That’s all for me.” I take the bag from her and her hand in my other.

We get in my truck, and before I take off, I take her hand, knowing I need to do more than give her flowers. I need to make things right. “Gisele, before you left, in my office, I was out of line. I was angry about the article, and instead of letting you help me like you wanted to, I pushed you away like an idiot.” Her eyes meet mine, and I can see how much I hurt her. “I was trying to protect you from the shitshow at the office, but I know now that was the wrong thing to do.” I pause, wanting to get this right but not sure how. “I’m so sorry.”

Her head drops. “You hurt me, Brody. I wasn’t sure what this was between us, but it was never just some holiday fling to me,” she says softly, her voice filled with emotion, and I can tell the last few days have been as tough on her as they have me.

I take her face in my hands, forcing her to look at me. I need her to see how serious I am about her. “I never wanted to hurt you. This was never just a fling to me either. I think I was just telling myself that so you didn’t crush me when you left and went back home.”

“It would never be me crushing you.” She laughs softly. “I know this started out as a one-night stand, and we both never expected to see each other again, but I’m glad we did. That night I met you was the best night of my life. I didn’t know I could be so insanely attracted to someone when I never had been before, but it was so much more than just attraction. Getting to know you over the last few months, I know this is real.”

I kiss her lips. “This is real,” I agree. “We don’t have to hide anymore, you’re coming home with me.”

“I would like that.” She smiles, but I can tell there's something still bothering her.

I start up the engine and pull out of the parking spot. She makes herself comfortable, propping her sweater under her head as she leans into the chair, one hand on my thigh. It’s a comfort.

The trip home took about forty minutes, and she had a hand resting on my leg the whole time. We didn’t talk a lot. She asked about the hotel, and I filled her in on what happened with our lawyer yesterday. She was just as excited as I am that both our positions won’t be affected by our relationship. I’m too afraid to ask her what happened while she was in New York. Somethingdid. Something that’s got her all quiet and caught up in her head.

I pull my car on to the dusty driveway and stop the engine. I help her carry her bag inside the house and find a vase for her flowers. She shivers and shrugs into her wool sweater, finding a spot by the fire. “It got cold here while I was away.”

“A cold front swept through yesterday.” I place the flowers on my kitchen table. “Would you like a hot drink?” I ask. It all feels too natural having her here in my space. I want to take care of her.

“Do you have cocoa?”

“And marshmallows.”

She smiles. “Yes, please.”

I make our drinks then join her, placing the mugs on the coffee table before wrapping my arms around her, kissing her hair. “Why do I feel like you’re not quite here with me? Like you’re still back in New York?” When she doesn’t answer me, I go on. “In the car you were quieter than normal; something's wrong, isn’t it?”

She turns in my arms, and taking my hands, she leads me over to the couch. “I haven’t told you anything much about my family, and I’m sorry. You have been so open with me about yours.” She makes herself comfortable, curling her legs up and cuddling her arms around them protectively.

“Why did you go home?” I ask a little more seriously. I’m not sure I want to know the real reason, but I must know what I’m up against.

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