Beach Reads Box Set

by Madden-Mills, Ilsa

  I want that. And I want him to want it too.

  He rubs my knuckle with this thumb.

  I look into his eyes.

  My anger fades because I believe him. I don’t think he meant to hurt me. And while he walked out on me, I walked out on him too.

  I sigh.

  “You said something yesterday that has bothered me. Well, you said a lot of things that bothered me, but one thing more than the others,” he says.

  “What?” I yell as a bus honks its horn as it goes by.

  He closes the small distance between us. He allows his face to grow serious—totally sober—before he speaks.

  My skin prickles with anticipation of what he’s about to say. It could be so many things.

  “You told me you loved me,” he says quietly.

  I hold my breath as I try to read him.

  Those words did pass through my lips on accident. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t mean it. Because out of all the things I said yesterday, that’s the one I meant the most.

  I love Holt Mason. That’s why it hurts so bad.

  I might’ve said it yesterday in a fit of emotions, but I didn’t realize I truly meant it. It wasn’t until I was on that website last night and researching pain did I understand that what I felt for Holt was love.

  That’s why I trusted him enough to open up to him. It’s why I was willing to put myself out there and ask him to be a part of my life—because I couldn’t imagine mine without him. It’s also why his rejection was pure devastation.

  But love is more than an emotion that makes you feel like your head is spinning. It’s respect. It’s support. It’s wanting both of you to be victorious in all you do.

  All of those things are why I didn’t fall into an abyss like I did with Jack. Because you can’t be in love without loving yourself first. And Holt helped me love me before I loved him.

  “Do you?” he asks. “Do you love me, Blaire?”

  An ambulance whizzes by, its sirens blaring. I don’t give them a second thought. I just watch the man in front of me.

  “Yeah. I do,” I tell him.

  Before I know what’s happening, my face is cupped in his hands, and his lips are on mine.

  The kiss is tender but rough, gentle but aggressive. It earns him a round of applause from the people on the sidewalk.

  He breaks the kiss and rests his forehead on mine.

  “You know, just because I said I love you doesn’t mean you can just kiss me like that,” I joke.

  He chuckles. “What will it take to get your permission to kiss you like that then?”

  “Tickets to every Kelvin McCoy concert in the area would help,” I say begrudgingly because I can’t resist the joke, even if I am still not sure what’s going to happen between us.

  Holt drops my face and sighs dramatically. It makes me giggle.

  “I’m serious, Blaire. This is it for me. You are it for me.” He smiles. “I love you. I love you. And it ate me up all night that I let you leave without telling you. I sat in my house, alone, and for the first time, I hated it.”

  My bottom lip quivers as I take in the honesty of both his gaze and his words.

  “I realized something else last night,” he says.

  “What’s that?”

  “Remember how I told you that my grandfather knew he was going to marry my grandmother the first time they met?”

  I nod.

  He grins. “I knew you were the one for me the first time I ran into you.”

  I can’t help but grin back at him.

  My heart fills again, my body coming alive at his words.

  “I’m not going anywhere. I’ll fight for you, fight to convince you to love me back every day of my life if that’s what it takes to win you over.”

  He’s already won me over. He just doesn’t know it yet.

  My phone buzzes in my hand. I look down to see a text from Yancy.

  “I have to get back to work,” I tell him.

  He groans.

  “I’m sorry. We all don’t run our own companies,” I tell him.

  He closes the gap between us again as though he can’t stand for anything but inches to be between us. I don’t mind. I’ve never minded.

  He takes my hand in his and locks our fingers together.

  “I have two questions before you go save lives,” he says. “First, do you forgive me? And if you don’t, will you give me a chance to earn back your trust?”

  I contemplate his question, but I already know the answer.

  I messed up too. I should’ve communicated better. I shouldn’t have left and given him the chance to explain.

  But I didn’t.

  “I forgive you. Do you forgive me for leaving?”

  “I never held it against you, sweetheart.”

  I smile.

  “My second question is this: what do you want, Blaire?”

  “Honestly?”

  “Yes. Honestly.”

  I feel a bubble of energy spread through me as I look up into his handsome face.

  The only thing I’ve wanted was him.

  “I want what I’ve wanted since you asked for my phone number. I want you. I want you just like you are.”

  His cheeks split into a big grin.

  He sweeps me around into his arms. My hands go around his neck, and my gaze meets his.

  “I don’t have all the answers,” he says, “but Wade told me I didn’t have to have them.”

  “We can find them together.”

  He presses a simple, sweet kiss to my lips.

  “Can I take you to dinner?” he asks.

  I grin. “Maybe.”

  “Do I have to play that game where I name three things about you? Because I think I’ll be even better at it now.”

  I laugh as his lips find mine again.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Blaire

  “Will you stop it?” I swat Holt’s hands away from me. “Give me a freaking minute.”

  “I don’t want to give you a minute.”

  “Clearly.”

  He pouts beside me. I know that because I can see him out of the corner of my eye. But I don’t dare look over and take in the whole image because I’ll never finish typing out my email.

  “Why do you have to work so much?” he whines.

  “Funny how the tables have turned.”

  The setting sun paints the prettiest picture outside of my apartment. The sky is ablaze in purples and pinks and bright oranges. It’s my favorite time of day. I love it even more tonight with Holt.

  I didn’t make it the whole two hours I had left at work. Luckily, Yancy is a rock star and happens to be a total romantic. When I told her what happened on my break, she insisted that I leave early. Since she refused to send back calls or copy files or find data, what was I supposed to do?

  Holt’s head rests on my shoulder. “I love you.”

  I can’t help but laugh. “How many times are you going to tell me that today?”

  “I don’t know. As many as I want.”

  “Okay.”

  He looks up at me like a puppy that’s waiting for a treat.

  “I love you too,” I say.

  This earns me a grin.

  Knock! Knock!

  Holt’s head lifts up. “Who is here?”

  “I don’t know.”

  I hop off the sofa and make my way to the door. “Who is it?”

  “It’s Sienna and Walker.”

  I unlatch the door and pop it open. “Hey. How are you guys?”

  Sienna makes a face. “You sound better today.”

  I grin, letting the door swing wide open. I know the exact moment Sienna’s eyes rest on Holt because they flip immediately to mine.

  “What is this?” she squeals.

  Walker fills the doorway with his wide shoulders and linebacker body. “Who the fuck is that?”

  I swat my brother’s chest. “Be nice.”

  I step to the side so they can come in, keeping my
eyes trained on Walker. The door shuts softly behind them.

  Sienna nearly bounces with excitement as she takes in Holt’s arm wrapped around my waist. My brother, on the other hand, isn’t quite as excited. As a matter of fact, he looks pissed.

  I gulp.

  “Holt, this is my brother Walker, and of course, you know Sienna. Walker, this is Holt Mason,” I say.

  Holt extends a hand. Walker lets it hang there for a long second before shaking it.

  I roll my eyes.

  “I heard that you struck a deal with Graham and Lincoln today,” Sienna says. “Congratulations!”

  Holt half-laughs. “My family struck a deal with them, yes. I can’t take credit for it all. Sadly.”

  They go into some of the details, but I tune them out. Not because I’m disinterested but because it’s hard to concentrate with Holt by my side … and Walker scowling at him in front of me.

  Sienna laces her fingers through my brother’s and peers up at him. She has to see the look on his face because she pokes him with her finger.

  “Are you okay over there?” she asks him.

  He doesn’t look at her. He just keeps pinning Holt to the wall with his stare.

  “Walker, stop,” I warn.

  “So you’re the guy who Blaire was staying with in Savannah, right?” Walker asks, raising a brow at Holt.

  Holt nods. “Yeah. She stayed with me for a few days.”

  “And you made her cry.”

  “Walker …” I say. It’s more of a plea than a demand because no one tells Walker Gibson what to do. “Please don’t.”

  Holt’s fingers curl into my waist. “I’m a big enough man to admit that I wasn’t on my best behavior. I did say and do some things that I wish, in retrospect, I hadn’t done. But I never set out to make Blaire cry.”

  “But you did,” Walker says.

  “Enough,” I hiss. “I’m a big girl.”

  He looks down at me. He reminds me so much of my father that it’s scary.

  “I’m a little pissed at you too, come to think of it,” he tells me.

  “Why?”

  “Because he didn’t even know who I was when I walked in,” Walker says. “That means that you didn’t warn him about the hellfire he’ll be walking into if he fucks with you.”

  Walker’s eyes slide over me and land squarely on Holt.

  Holt doesn’t budge. He doesn’t flinch. He squares his shoulders to my brother.

  “That’s my sister,” Walker tells him. “She’s the only one I have. If you do anything stupid—even a little bit, I will take your body apart piece by piece. Got it?”

  “Walker!” I say as Sienna shoves her elbow into his ribs.

  He doesn’t flinch.

  I look up at Holt to see his reaction. He takes a long, deep breath and blows it out slowly.

  “I absolutely understand,” Holt says as if this mountain of a man didn’t just threaten to murder him. “My brothers and I say the same thing to the guys our little cousin, Riss, dates. Better to put them on notice early on. It might stop stupidity down the line.”

  Walker nods. “You get it then.”

  “Oh, yes. I get it. We’re on the same page.” Holt looks at Sienna, still cool as a cucumber. “Do you guys want to come in and sit down?”

  Please say no. Please say no. Please say no.

  “We’re actually heading to pick up some fabric from the fabric shop downtown,” Sienna says. “We just wanted to swing by and check on you, Blaire.”

  “I’m fine.”

  She smiles. “Okay. Well, Walker, let’s get out of here so Blaire and Holt can—.”

  “All right. I got it,” he says before she can complete her line of thought.

  It makes me laugh. “I love you, Walk.”

  “Love ya, too.”

  “And thanks for coming by, Sienna. And for … everything,” I say, pulling her into a quick hug. Because apparently, I’m a hugger now.

  “You know it. That’s why I’m here.” She releases me. “Holt, it was good to see you.”

  “Likewise, Sienna. Be safe, you guys.”

  “Call me,” Walker says to me before firing one last warning glance at Holt.

  They slip out the door, and Holt wastes no time locking it behind them. He spins around to face me.

  “That was fun,” he deadpans.

  “He will ease up. I’m his only sister.”

  “I hope he never eases up.”

  “Really? Why? Because he’s a little much.”

  Holt grins. “Well, for one, he’s a very large man. I’m certain that no one will fuck with you if he’s around.”

  My laugh is loud and free. It fills my apartment in a way my laughter never has in the four years I’ve lived in this building.

  Holt pulls me onto the couch and across his lap. His hands lock together at my hip. He holds me tight as if I might get up and dart out the door.

  Again.

  I reach up and touch the side of his face.

  “We need to talk about what this looks like,” he says. “There are a lot of moving parts that we don’t know.”

  “I know.”

  Fear flickers in my gut. I don’t know what he’s expecting.

  I think about my life and what it is and what I want it to be. I’ve worked really hard to get to where I am in my firm, and I’m not ready to give that up. Not even for him. Not yet.

  His stubble is rough and bites against my fingers. I wonder if he forgot to shave this morning or didn’t bother. Did he stay awake all night like me? Or was he able to find sleep despite the circumstances?

  I’ll never know. And I don’t want to ask because it just reminds me of the pain of not being with him.

  He grins at me softly.

  It’s good to remember your sources of pain. I know that from my life experiences. It’s just as important to give yourself grace and allow yourself the peace to move on. And right now, moving on is just as much about me and my growth independent of Holt as it is about our life together.

  “My life is here,” I tell him.

  “And my life is in Savannah.”

  “What does that mean for us?”

  I look around my cramped apartment and think about the stinky office twenty floors above. The city smells like sewage in the summer and is bitterly cold in the winters.

  But my family lives not too far away in the sleepy town of Linton. And Yancy, someone who has tried to be my friend for two years comes in the office despite my cantankerous attitude, shows up for me every day.

  There are things here that I’m not ready to part with. Maybe someday, but not yet. I have to finish this chapter of my life before I start a new one. The end has not been written.

  “I’m not ready to leave Chicago,” I admit.

  He doesn’t miss a beat. He bends forward and presses a kiss to my forehead. “Okay. We will figure it out.”

  “You don’t expect me to move to Savannah?”

  “I mean, at some point in our lives, I hope you do,” he says. “Or I’ll have to move to Illinois, but it’s fucking cold here. We need to consider that.”

  I grin.

  “But, yeah, we will have to live in the same place to grow old together,” he says. “And if we want to make babies.”

  His smile fills with mischief and promises of lots of sex. My ovaries combust.

  “But we have time,” he assures me. “We don’t have to rush anything. We won’t rush anything. This is our life. We’ll build it the way we want.”

  I rest my head against his shoulder and feel his arms around my body. Never once in my wildest dreams did I expect to be talking about having babies with a man who I met on vacation, let alone with a man who I had a one-night stand with.

  The world is a weird place.

  I close my eyes, and my thoughts drift to Nana. She’ll be so happy to meet Holt. She’ll be thrilled to hear him talking about babies.

  I smile softly.

  She always tells me not to block m
y blessings. She might be right. The first time I allowed the universe to work for me—look what happened. It gave me Holt. The biggest blessing of my life. So far, anyway. Who knows what could happen in the future?

  “What are you thinking?” Holt asks.

  I bite back a grin. “Just about all the blessings coming my way.”

  “So many are coming your way, sweetheart.”

  “I mean, think of all the Kelvin McCoy tickets.”

  “Fuck,” Holt says, his body shaking with his suppressed chuckle.

  I curl up against him even more and laugh. “I’m just kidding.”

  “You probably aren’t, is the thing.”

  “You know what I heard?” I ask.

  “What’s that?”

  “I heard he has an older brother who’s hotter and way sexier than he ever thought about being.”

  Holt brushes a strand of hair out of my face. “Is that so?”

  I nod. “And I also heard he closed a major deal today, and that warrants a celebration.”

  “That’s all true. But did you hear that the brother’s girlfriend is the person who brought the deal home? She needs celebrated too.”

  Pride fills my body and mixes with the heat pulsing through my veins.

  We make such a good team.

  I can feel Holt’s cock thickening beneath my hip. His gaze heats.

  My body whimpers.

  “In any case,” I tell him, “I think we definitely need to celebrate.”

  He slips his hand up my shirt and cups my breast. “I like the way you think.”

  I stare up at him and take in every inch of his gorgeous face.

  I hope he likes the way I think. Because I have tons of ideas for the next fifty years.

  Epilogue

  Holt

  Six months later …

  “Good morning, gorgeous,” I say to Blaire as I enter the den.

  She looks up at me from her seat on the chair and smiles. The glasses she got over the winter make her look so studious and so fucking sexy.

  “Good morning to you.” She places the binder she’s looking at onto the coffee table. Her arms stretch overhead. The edge of my T-shirt she slept in rises and gives me a peek at a swath of skin at her hip.