Owen (Undercover Billionaire Book 3)

by Melody Anne

  She pulled to a stop on the shore of the lake and stepped from her car. There was so much ash in the air. It covered her vehicle, the buildings, the trees, the land. It took all the color away. But there was an odd beauty to the glow from the flames against the lake. Nature had a way of starting fires to clean things up, just as it created waves and wind tunnels. No one could explain natural disasters, but at the end of the day when one happened, the survivors came together. That was the rainbow at the end of the storm.

  But this hadn’t been an accident. This fire had been deliberately set, and someone was up to no good. Someone was coming after her, after Owen, after the entire town. She wasn’t sure why, hadn’t come any closer to finding an answer. And she might not.

  She looked out at the lake, at the glow from the fire, at how it reflected off the water. If the thing wasn’t so deadly, it would be oddly serene. Maybe it was, and maybe she was simply losing her mind. She wasn’t sure.

  As she stood there, feeling the calm begin to settle over her, an idea hit Eden—an idea she knew Owen wouldn’t like, wouldn’t endorse. As a matter of fact, he’d lock her in a jail cell if he figured out the thoughts going through her mind.

  But someone was after her. That much was obvious. They’d burned down her house, fired shots at her, and killed people she cared about. This was personal. She couldn’t think of anyone she’d wronged, but somehow she’d done just that. Probably the only thing she could do at this point was make herself an open target. They needed to flush this person out, and she could be the bait.

  She winced as she thought about how furious Owen would be. Hell, Roxie would be just as upset with her. But she smiled. Just a few short weeks ago, she’d thought she was completely alone in this world, had been at about the lowest place she could possibly be. And now she knew that if something were to happen to her, there were at least two people in this world who’d mourn her loss. That didn’t mean she had a death wish. Just the opposite, in fact. But she was determined to catch a killer.

  She had to not think about what Owen or Roxie would say. She just wasn’t sure how to set the trap. If Owen would work with her, she knew she could pull this off. The problem was, she knew with absolute certainty he wouldn’t. That meant she had to come up with a plan on her own.

  She’d come up with something foolproof. That was for sure. When Eden made up her mind, she didn’t allow anything to stop her. And one thing Eden knew for sure at this point was that she couldn’t slow down. If she did, she was afraid the weight of her burdens was going to bury her.

  Seeing Trevor on that bed, knowing he wasn’t ever getting off it, had hit home in such a painful way that Eden had to focus on something else. She couldn’t keep dwelling on what might happen. She had to do something to stop more deaths. She had to save Owen.

  One more loss in her life might be the end of her.

  Closing her eyes, she took in a breath, imagining it was just a normal day with no fire in the air.

  “What do I do?” she asked out loud, needing her dad to help her.

  You live your life unafraid. You remember who you are, that no one is better than you, and you’re better than no one. You live each day as if it’s your last, but you live each moment as if you have forever. Don’t let fear bury you. Don’t let yesterday define you, and don’t let tomorrow scare you. Live your truth and share your light with the world. And then each night you can rest with a clear head and an open heart.

  Tears rolled down Eden’s cheeks as she remembered her father telling her this after Owen had left town. He’d held her as she cried and assured her she was stronger than she realized, assured her she’d be okay. She felt him so much in this moment that it took her breath away.

  “I miss you, Dad. I miss you so much,” she said.

  I’m with you.

  If she let her mind go enough, she could feel his arms around her, could almost believe he really was there with her.

  It was almost enough.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Eden stayed at the lake until the sun sank below the horizon. She’d left Owen when he needed her most. She knew she had to turn around and go back to him. Fear had made her walk from that room, but love was making her turn around.

  He needed to know Trevor’s death wasn’t on his hands. He’d lasted as long as he had, giving his family a chance to tell him goodbye because of Owen, because Owen and John had risked their lives carrying him down a mountain that had been trying to consume them all. He and John were heroes. And she’d walked from that hospital room with him thinking he was anything other than that. She was stronger than that.

  He needed her. And she needed him. They’d take care of each other.

  She climbed into her car and raced to his place, knowing that’s where she’d find him. His family would want to surround him, take him in their arms, but he wouldn’t want them to make him feel better, not when he felt responsible for Trevor’s death. She wasn’t allowing him to do that to himself, not after all he’d done for her these past few weeks. Not after she’d left him once today.

  Though she’d known he’d be home, she was still grateful to see his truck parked crookedly in front of his place. He’d come here in a hurry. He shouldn’t have been driving after that visit. Grief could wreak havoc with the body worse than alcohol.

  She made her way to his front door. She knocked lightly, and silence greeted her. She tried again, louder this time. Again, all she heard was the sound of bullfrogs croaking beneath his deck.

  She took a chance and tried his doorknob. She knew he was inside, and now wasn’t the time to respect his privacy. He wouldn’t have allowed her to wallow in grief on her own, not if she was the one in unbearable pain.

  The doorknob twisted easily in her hand, and she pushed it open, stepping inside the dark entryway. She stopped, letting her eyes adjust. Then she moved forward, somehow knowing he’d be in the den.

  That’s where she found him.

  The only light in the room came from the gas fireplace. Owen was sitting on the couch, a glass of what appeared to be scotch resting easily in his fingers. He looked up, his expression unreadable to most people.

  But not to her.

  She saw the anguish in his eyes, the firm lines of his mouth, the wrinkle in his brow. He was barely holding it together. There was a mixture of rage and sadness rolling through him, and she didn’t know if she was the right person to help him. All she knew was she couldn’t walk away again, not right now.

  “I can’t promise you nothing will ever happen to me,” he said before taking another drink. His words were full of anguish, as if he knew it wasn’t what she’d come to hear, as if he knew it would make her turn and leave.

  She respected him so much more in that moment for being truthful with her, for sharing his pain with her—sharing his soul.

  “I’m sorry, Owen, sorry you lost a friend, sorry we haven’t caught the person responsible, sorry you were accused. I’m sorry I left,” she whispered, moving closer to him, but not reaching out yet. She wasn’t sure if that was what he wanted, and right now it was about his needs—not hers.

  “It’s not your fault. You’re scared, too, and it’s not your fault Trevor was killed,” he told her, his voice low as if he was barely keeping it together.

  “I’ve always hated when people say that,” she told him. She took a chance and sat down close to him, still not touching. “When someone says they’re sorry, they aren’t taking the blame; they’re saying they hurt for you. It’s an empathy thing,” she finished.

  She was wondering how she’d gone from wanting to comfort him to lecturing him. She’d known she wasn’t the best person for the job. She hadn’t had a lot of people in her life she’d needed to carry the burden for. With her father and her, it had been her dad always carrying the burden. Her heart ached at that thought. She’d been selfish all her life, so selfish. She didn’t want to be that person anymore.

  “I’m just mad right now,” he said after a few moments.
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  She reached out and set her hand on his knee, knowing that sometimes the simplest thing, like another person’s touch, could be the only thing that kept a person grounded—it let you know you weren’t alone in this vast universe.

  “I know you are,” she said. “You have every right to be mad. Just don’t take the blame on your shoulders. You gave his family a chance to say goodbye. Without you, they wouldn’t have been able to do that. So many people lose a loved one, their bodies never recovered. That’s even worse than the death because they’ll always wonder if they’re still out there, always wonder if they’ve said goodbye too soon. You gave his family moments that are more precious than any other gift you can possibly give.”

  He was looking at her, and she could have sworn she saw a gleam of tears in his eyes, but he turned away. When he looked at her again, he’d managed to compose himself. She wanted to tell him he could trust her, that he could let go. But she wasn’t sure if that was true. Yes, he could trust her right in this moment, but could he tomorrow? She just didn’t know. She didn’t think she was strong enough to be anyone’s rock for very long.

  “Thank you for that,” he finally said. Then he set the glass down, the rest of the liquor untouched. The light in his eyes shifted, and there was a part of Eden that wanted to run, run fast and far. They were already growing too intimate.

  But as he grabbed her, hauling her onto his lap, the thought evaporated. Tonight was about him. That’s why she was there. And if he needed her to help him grieve, she’d be there for him in any way he wanted.

  His arms engulfed her as he pulled her against his solid chest. Her breasts ached as she felt the heat of his body. It would always be this way between them. They could go twenty years without seeing each other, and the second they were in the same room, she’d feel herself awaken. There’d never been another like him, and she somehow knew there never would.

  He cupped the back of her neck and pulled her forward, his lips taking hers in an angry kiss. He was trying to get lost in her, and she wanted to let him know there was a better way.

  She kissed him back as she circled her hands behind his neck, then brought them to his cheeks and rested them there. She rubbed her thumbs against his temples in a slow arc. His urgent kiss gentled, his movements becoming less hurried.

  The hand gripping her neck loosened, and the one on her lower back began rubbing up and down. She sighed into his mouth. She loved him. Damn, how she loved him.

  He made love to her right there on the couch after slowly stripping them both. His lips trailed down her body and back up again. He caressed her, loved her, and got lost with her in a beautiful symphony that healed them both.

  When they were finished, he lay against the soft cushions of the couch and cradled her back against his chest. She gazed into the flickering flames in his fireplace. It was still so odd to her how fire was so calming, so beautiful, so warm and comforting . . . and yet so deadly.

  “Do you ever think about the fact that fire is essential to our very existence, yet in the blink of an eye, it can also take your life?” she asked.

  He was rubbing his fingers along her hip, her stomach, her breasts. She didn’t want to feel a response, just wanted to lie there in his arms and feel content. Of course, anytime he touched her, she responded. She decided to try to ignore the heat building again and hopefully get him speaking.

  “I’ve never thought of it like that,” he told her. She rubbed the one arm he had wrapped around her, the hand holding her breast.

  “It came to me today. I was at the lake. The sun was setting, and the glow from the fire was creating a beautiful backdrop. The scene was something painters can only hope to capture. Fire is beautiful, but dangerous. It gives us warmth and comfort, and it can also destroy our lands and take our lives. I can’t think of anything else that has two such extreme differences,” she said. “Can you?”

  He was quiet for a few moments as he continued rubbing her while he thought about her question.

  “Water is beautiful and we need it, but it can be deadly as well,” he said.

  Now it was her turn to think. “Really, I guess the same can be said for all the natural elements—wind, water, fire, earth. But nothing is as extreme as fire.”

  “No, there’s nothing quite like fire,” he agreed.

  They lay there in silence again. But it was comfortable, easy, just like it had been so many years before when she’d been happier than she’d ever been, when each day began with excitement.

  “I let my grief last too long,” she said before realizing she was going to say it. He tensed the slightest bit, then relaxed as he continued rubbing her.

  “What do you mean?”

  She could tell he hadn’t wanted to ask, was most likely afraid to ask. She might as well continue now. “When you left, I hurt so badly—” she began.

  “Eden, I’m sorry,” he cut in.

  “Please just let me say this?” she asked. She was glad her back was to him, but also glad he was holding her. It somehow made it that much easier.

  “I was hurt, but we were young. I understand why you left, but you were wrong in how you did it,” she told him.

  “I know,” he said, his voice filled with shame.

  “I forgive you,” she said, meaning it.

  She felt him tense behind her, but this time he didn’t say anything; she just felt his arm tighten around her middle as he squeezed her close to him. She’d needed to forgive him for a very long time.

  “Then six months ago, I was with you when I lost my dad, and I blamed both you and myself. I thought if I’d have answered that phone call I could have saved him. Or I could have at least spoken to him one last time. It hurts my heart so much that I missed that chance, that I could’ve had my dad again for even a few minutes. I really thought he’d be here forever. I thought he’d never leave me. When you left me, I didn’t feel safe; I felt as if anyone could walk away. My dad was my one anchor in the storm, the one person I knew would never leave. So him doing just that was the ultimate betrayal to me. I wasn’t sure I could ever trust another person again. I still have doubts I can. I don’t want to feel that way, but I’m scared,” she said, stopping when her voice hitched.

  “Eden . . . ,” he began, and she squeezed his arm.

  “I’m sorry, Owen. This night is about you, not me,” she said on a hiccupping sob as tears fell down her cheeks.

  He raised his hand and wiped them away before turning her so she was facing him. He leaned in and kissed her gently, his strong arms wrapped around her.

  “When I’m with you, any pain I feel disappears,” he told her. “I love you, Eden.” She opened her mouth to beg him not to say that, but he held a finger over her lips. “I know you can’t tell me that right now. I also see how you feel by the look in your eyes, by the acceptance of your body. It’s okay. I’ll build your trust again. Together, we can face anything. We’re better with each other than apart.”

  She didn’t want to lie to him, didn’t want to deny what he’d just said. But she couldn’t say the words she knew he wanted to hear, not right now, not when she was feeling this vulnerable, this open.

  “You’re a good man, Owen. I’m sorry I doubted that,” she said instead.

  He smiled before kissing her again. And then they stopped talking. There was one way she could show him she loved him without having to say the words. And that’s exactly what she did.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Owen had woken in the middle of the night, his body warm, with Eden locked tightly in his embrace. This was right. It was perfect. It was exactly how they should wake up every single day.

  He slowly extracted himself from her arms, enjoying the grumble she let out as she reached for him, her defenses down in her sleep. He knew it wouldn’t take a whole lot longer before she realized the past truly was buried and that he wasn’t that teenage boy anymore. She’d realize she could trust him, that she did, indeed, have one person on this earth who would carry her burde
ns. Just as he knew she’d carry his. She’d proved that a few hours earlier.

  He lifted her, his heart thumping contentedly when she curled against his chest. He carried her to his bed, and as soon as he lay down next to her, she wrapped herself around him, let out another grumble as if telling him not to leave her again, and then silence filled the room.

  Owen fell asleep. When he woke next, his body ached. Eden was wrapped around him, and though they’d made love so many times in the last few days that he’d think he’d be a little bit sated, it was as if he hadn’t touched her in months. Maybe there was a fear that this was a dream, that he’d wake up to find her gone when all he wanted to do was have her beside him.

  He took his time admiring her. She was so innocent in sleep, her face flushed, her lips turned up, her hair a mess. She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever known, inside and out. He’d truly been a fool to walk away from her, even if he’d done it out of loyalty for a friend he owed his life to.

  Her eyes fluttered and his body stirred as if knowing she was waking, knowing he could flip her over and plunge deep within her hot folds. He forced himself to calm down. He craved making love to her, but he wanted her to know it was about so much more than sex. He couldn’t prove that to her if he was climbing on top of her every five minutes.

  Finally, her eyes opened and she looked at him sleepily, dreamily. She smiled, true joy showing in her expression. This moment right here was indescribable, this unguarded moment where there wasn’t a care in the world, where she loved him and he loved her and there were no walls, there was no bitterness. He leaned down and gently ran his lips across hers, and she hummed her approval.

  “Good morning,” she muttered as she snuggled a little closer, making him pulse with need.