Again.
But she’d come too far now to back off. And thanks to Gervais’s help again, she’d landed at the airport and hopefully would make it to meet them before they left. The jet taxied over to the parking area. She peered out the window, praying she had enough time to get to the stadium. Were any of the parked jets theirs? Surely if they’d left, Gervais would have let the pilot know their flight was in vain.
Just when she was about to grab her phone to call him and check, she caught sight of a chartered bus driving toward one of the other planes. The sort of bus the team would usually travel in collectively to the airport. Her stomach did cartwheels.
Could she have been that close to missing him? Yes, they could have spoken later, but now that she’d figured out what she’d been missing—the happiness she’d been robbing them both of—she couldn’t bear the thought of waiting a second longer to see Henri.
Her jet stopped wonderfully close to the path of the bus—bless the pilot and Gervais. Eons later—or at least it felt so—the steps were in place on the Gulfstream so she could disembark. Cautious feet found purchase on the stairway leading out of the jet. Wind gusting her hair back, she had to bring her hands to her eyes to make out the New Orleans Hurricanes team inside the bus. But then the charter bus’s door opened, and the players exited one after the other.
Heart beating hard in her chest, she scanned the team for Henri. Dempsey. Wild Card. Freight Train.
They were all there. But where was Henri?
She felt far away from her body as he came into view. His broad shoulders and wind-tossed dark hair. Sunglasses that shielded his eyes even though night had fallen. Did he see her?
She couldn’t wait for him to notice her. Here she was. Ready to gamble, to leap. Gathering her voice, she yelled his name.
She half tripped down the steps of the jet, her ballet flats pounding the asphalt as she ran toward him, still calling out.
“Henri? Henri!” she shouted, her feet picking up pace, her dress wrapping around her legs.
Henri’s back was to her now, but his muscular frame was easy to pick out in his tailored charcoal-colored suit.
No matter what he wore, he was still as sexy as the day she’d met him.
He glanced over his shoulder. He cocked his head to the side, then as the distance closed between them she could see him raise an eyebrow. Luckily Dempsey waved away security and Henri broke ranks.
Henri’s arms went wide and without hesitation she flew into them. That easy. That right. She was his. He was hers.
He looked over at his brother. “Dempsey, can we have a moment?”
Dempsey laughed. “Now you ask permission?” He gave his brother a shove in Fiona’s direction.
Henri took her by the elbow and guided her back into the Reynauds’ private jet. “Why are you here? Wait. Never mind. Who the hell cares? You’re here.”
He hauled her into his arms and kissed her. Really kissed her in a way he hadn’t done in...she couldn’t remember when. It was something more than the kisses of their early romance. Something more than the kisses of their newlywed days. This was the kiss of a couple tested in fire. More than the fire of passion, but the fire of life.
She eased back, sweeping her hand over his hair that curled after a fresh wash. “I’m here to say I’m sorry. To say I want to try if you’ll forgive me for being afraid to face the future. Living in the day was so much...safer.”
“God, I lo—”
She pressed a hand to his mouth. “I know. You’ve shown me in a million ways with your patience, but I want to be the one to say it first. I love you. I want to spend every day of my life with you. I want to live for each day and focus on that. The joy, the beauty, the art. Our love. And yes, our family. I want to focus on the positive every day for however many days we have.” She traced his lips. “I hope you understand that while half the fear was for me, the other half was fear of hurting you.”
“Losing you these past months has hurt like hell.” His arms found her waist, snaked around her hips. He pulled her closer, as if she’d blow away in the wind if he didn’t. She’d missed the feel of his arms around her. Had forgotten what being together—truly together—was like.
“I’m sorry. Who would have thought dreaming of a future would be so scary?”
“I do understand, but you’ll help me be strong, won’t you?” His smile was light but his dark eyes were serious.
“We’ll help each other. I hope there will be countless days. It’s not about how much time we have, but how beautiful we can make each day together.”
“Not that I’m going to tempt fate here, but I am curious. What made you change your mind? Did my family hound you? Because if they’re being pushy just let me know.”
“Actually, they’ve been incredibly helpful. Gervais even set up the plane. Looking back, I’m rethinking our decision to keep them in the dark these past months.” She glanced at the window, at the bus full of players waiting patiently as the exhaust puffed into the night air. “I learned my lesson from a photo the mom of one of the patients at the party texted me. I can show you later. It’s...beautiful.”
“I look forward to seeing it.” He brushed a kiss across her lips. “I want us to talk more, share more, spend more time together. I’ve decided I should quit the team.”
Shock pulled at her heartstrings. She had to have misheard him. Football wasn’t just a job for him. Passion for the game ran as deep as her passion for art. “What?”
“At the end of the season, I’m through.”
“What about your contract?” Another gust of fall wind ripped past them, carrying the smell of oil and decomposing leaves past them.
Pushing the hair from her eyes, he kissed her forehead, his lips gentle and warm in the cool atmosphere.
“I’ll buy out. Money’s not an issue.”
“You love the game. I don’t understand.” Fiona shook her head, processing the logic of his words.
“I love you more, and I’ll do whatever it takes to win you back. We’ll take more time to get to know each other, at home or traveling, or starting a fund-raising foundation. I’m committed to making this work. No half measures. I want you as my wife, my love, my life.” He spoke in earnest. She could see that in the way a faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips and how his gaze intensified as he stared into her eyes.
But Henri without football? That didn’t seem right. The game twined with his soul, his purpose. They had to reach a point where they accepted all of each other, no holding back, no reservations. They couldn’t pick and choose parts to love and parts to neglect. That road had led them to ruin.
Time to begin again. To take bigger chances and risks together.
She rested her head against his chest, listening to his pounding heart. He offered her complete devotion and she appreciated the sentiment, needed to hear he’d move heaven and earth for them. But she didn’t need Henri to give up his job to fix them. They’d do that together.
“Henri, you don’t have to give up your job for me.”
“I do if it means I could lose you again.”
She repeated her thoughts from earlier out loud. “I’m yours. You’re mine. When I talk about the joy of living, I mean embracing every part of who we are. I love the game, traveling, seeing you play. We can figure out the details together. If we need to, we can truly talk with the counselor rather than racing straight to the lawyer. Are you okay with that?” Communication. That’s what they needed. Old-fashioned communication.
“Whatever it takes. I’ve made that clear.” He kissed her nose. Her temple. Her neck. Her mouth. Each kiss affirming his commitment—a promise imprinted into her skin. Into her soul.
Enjoying the feel of him, she asked, “What if I say counseling and you keep playing?”
Her fingers traced designs on
the back of his neck as their eyes met.
“I think you’re letting me off too easily, my love.”
She rolled her eyes and arched up to give him a quick kiss. “Oh, I don’t think this is going to be easy at all. Not if we dig in deep with counseling.”
“I can face it if we’re together.” He intertwined their hands. Raised their joined fists to his lips. Kissed the back of her hand while staring into her eyes.
“Together, as a team.” She stepped closer, their clasped hands against her heart. “That sounds like a winning game plan to me.”
* * * * *
If you loved this novel, pick up all the books in the BAYOU BILLIONAIRES series from USA TODAY bestselling author Catherine Mann and Joanne Rock
HIS PREGNANT PRINCESS BRIDE
by Catherine Mann
HIS SECRETARY’S SURPRISE FIANCÉ
by Joanne Rock
REUNITED WITH THE REBEL BILLIONAIRE
by Catherine Mann
and
SECRET BABY SCANDAL by Joanne Rock
Available May 2016!
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Read on for an exclusive sneak preview of ONE NIGHT CHARMER from USA TODAY bestselling author Maisey Yates and HQN Books.
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Copper Ridge, Oregon’s favorite bachelor is about to meet his match!
If the devil wore flannel, he’d look like Ace Thompson. He’s gruff. Opinionated. Infernally hot. The last person Sierra West wants to ask for a bartending job—not that she has a choice. Ever since discovering that her “perfect” family is built on a lie, Sierra has been determined to make it on her own. Resisting her new boss should be easy when they’re always bickering. Until one night, the squabbling stops...and something far more dangerous takes over.
Ace has a personal policy against messing around with staff—or with spoiled rich girls. But there’s a steel backbone beneath Sierra’s silver-spoon upbringing. She’s tougher than he thought, and so much more tempting. Enough to make him want to break all his rules, even if it means risking his heart...
Read on for this special extended excerpt from ONE NIGHT CHARMER by USA TODAY bestselling author Maisey Yates.
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One Night Charmer
by Maisey Yates
CHAPTER ONE
THERE WERE TWO people in Copper Ridge, Oregon, who—between them—knew nearly every secret of every person in town. The first was Pastor John Thompson, who heard confessions of sin and listened to people pour out their hearts when they were going through trials and tribulations.
The second was Ace Thompson, owner of the most popular bar in town, son of the pastor and probably the least likely to attend church on Sunday or any other day.
There was no question that his father knew a lot of secrets, though Ace was pretty certain he himself got the more honest version. His father spent time standing behind the pulpit; Ace stood behind a bar. And there he learned the deepest and darkest situations happening in the lives of other townspeople while never revealing any of his own. He supposed, pastor or bartender, that was kind of the perk.
They poured it all out for you, and you got to keep your secrets bottled up inside.
That was how Ace liked it. Every night of the week, he had the best seat in the house for whatever show Copper Ridge wanted to put on. And he didn’t even have to pay for it.
And with his newest acquisition, the show was about to get a whole lot better.
“Really?” Jack Monaghan sat down at the bar, beer in hand, his arm around his new fiancée, Kate Garrett. “A mechanical bull?”
“That’s right, Monaghan. This is a classy establishment, after all.”
“Seriously,” Connor Garrett said, taking the seat next to Jack, followed by his wife, Liss. “Where did you get that thing?”
“I traded it. Guy down in Tolowa owed me some money and he didn’t have it. So he said I could come by and look at his stash of trash. Lo and behold, I discovered Ferdinand over there.”
“Congratulations,” Kate said. “I didn’t think anything could make this place more of a dive. I was wrong.”
“You’re a peach, Kate,” Ace said.
The woman smiled broadly and wrapped her arm around Jack’s, leaning in and resting her cheek on his shoulder.
“Can we get a round?” Connor asked.
Ace continued to listen to their conversation as he served up their usual brew, enjoying the happy tenor of the conversation, since the downers would probably be around later to dish out woe while he served up harder liquor. The Garretts were good people, he mused. Always had been. Both before he’d left Copper Ridge, and since he’d come back.
His focus was momentarily pulled away when the pretty blonde who’d been hanging out in the dining room all evening drinking with friends approached the aforementioned Ferdinand.
He hadn’t had too many people ride the bull yet, and he had to admit, he was finding it a pretty damn enjoyable novelty.
The woman tossed her head, her tan cowboy hat staying in place while her blond curls went wild around her shoulders. She wrapped her hands around the harness on top of the mechanical creature and hoisted herself up. Her movements were unsteady, and he had a feeling, based on the amount of time the group had been here, and how often the men in the group had come and gone from the bar, that she was more than a little bit tipsy.
Best seat in the house. He always had the best seat in the house.
She glanced up as she situated herself and he got a good look at her face. There was a determined glint in her eyes, her brows locked together, her lips pursed into a tight circle. She wasn’t just tipsy, she was pissed. Looking down at the bull like it was her own personal Everest and she was determined to conquer it along with her rage. He wondered what a bedazzled little thing like her had to be angry about. A broken nail, maybe. A pair of shoes that she really wanted that was unavailable in her size.
She nodded once, her expression growing even more determined as she signaled the employee Ace had operating the controls tonight.
Ace moved nearer to the bar, planting his hands flat on the surface. “This probably won’t end well.”
The patrons at the bar turned their heads toward the scene. And he noticed Jack’s posture go rigid. “Is that—”
“Yes,” Kate said.
The mechanical bull pitched forward and the petite blonde sitting on top of it pitched right along with it. She managed to stay seated, but in Ace’s opinion that was a miracle. The bull went back again, and the woman straightened, arching her back and thrusting her breasts forward, her head tilted upward, the overhead lighting bathing her pretty face in a golden glow. And for a moment, just a moment, she looked like a graceful, dirty angel getting into the rhythm of the kind of riding Ace preferred above anything else.
Then the great automated beast pitched forward again and the little lady went over the top, down onto the mats underneath. There were howls from her so-called friends as they enjoyed her deposition just a little too much.
She stood on shaky legs and walked back over to the group, picking up a shot glass and tossing back another, her face twisted into an expression that suggested this was not typical behavior for her.
Kate frowned and got up from her stool, making her way over to the other woman.
Ace had a feeling he should know the woman’s name, had a feeling that he probably did somewhere in the back corner of his mind. He knew everyone. Which meant that he knew a lot about a lot of people, recognized nearly every face he passed on the street. He could usually place them with their most defining life moments, as those were the things that often spilled out on the bar top after a few shots too many.
But it didn’t mean he could put a name to every face. There were simply too many of them.
“Who is that?” he asked.
“Sierra West,” Jack said, something strange in his tone.
“Oh, right.”
He knew the West family well enough, or rather, he knew of them. Everyone did. Though they were hardly the type to frequent his establishment. Sierra did, which would explain why she was familiar, though they never made much in the way of conversation. She was the type who was always absorbed in her friends or her cell phone when she came to place her order. No deep confessionals from Sierra over drinks.
Reunited with the Rebel Billionaire Page 15