Looking down at the beautifully preserved bridal bouquet in his hands, he prayed MaKayla would appreciate his gesture and listen to his explanation for the things she’d overheard. Even though they’d woken up this morning and been in a hurry, the love between them floated in the air like bubbles. It was such a beautiful memory that he hated to ruin it by walking through the front door alone.
Resolving to wait on the porch till she came, he sat down on the step. It wasn’t long before Brooke and David pulled up. He held his breath, waiting for MaKayla to get out of the car. She didn’t. Gabe’s arms slumped to his side.
“Hey,” called David.
“Hey.”
Brooke walked around to the passenger side and picked up a bag.
“She’s not coming, is she?” Gabe asked. He’d messed it all up.
“MaKayla? I dropped her off hours ago.”
Gabe’s head popped up. “You mean she’s here?”
“She should be.”
Gabe was on his feet and through the door, calling MaKayla’s name, as he ran through the entryway.
“In here!” MaKayla called from her room.
Gabe ran right through the door he’d promised himself he’d never enter and caught her in her closet, slipping on a necklace. She was wearing the chocolate brown dress she’d worn on their wedding day. Her hair was loose and fell across her shoulders, and the shy smile on her face was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
Closing the distance between them, Gabe held up the bouquet and watched as MaKayla’s eyes brightened.
“How did you …? I thought it was gone forever.”
“I had it preserved.”
She placed her palm against his cheek as she took the flowers in her other hand. “Thank you.”
“MaKayla, I need to explain about this morning.”
“I talked to David.” She moved past him and went into the bedroom.
Gabe followed.
She carefully laid the flowers on the center of her dresser before turning around to face him. “I should have talked to you, but it all felt so fragile. I felt fragile.” It must have taken everything in her to admit that to him. After what she learned about him today, she thought he could handle it.
Gabe circled his arms around her waist and pulled her close. “I know. I was afraid I’d broken us.”
MaKayla wrapped her arms around his neck. “We need to talk.”
Gabe chuckled. “I’m glad you’re wearing that dress.”
MaKayla tipped her head to the side and asked, “Why?”
“Because I hoped today would be a new start for us, for our marriage. I don’t want to be married to you because you can manage my charities, sign checks, or schedule an amazing event like the one you pulled off this morning. I want to be married to you because I love you.”
Tears pooled in MaKayla’s eyes. “I want that too.”
“We can shred the prenup and we’ll have a recommitment ceremony. I’ll even wear a silly boutonniere, if that’s what you want.”
MaKayla paused. “You got the boutonniere and you didn’t wear it?”
Gabe shook his head. “I was so tired of having a woman run all over me, that I staged a small rebellion.”
MaKayla lowered her eyebrows.
“I know now that you weren’t trying to control me: you just can’t help making life’s moments special. It’s your gift.”
“And yours is giving and serving others.”
Gabe bent down, so that their foreheads touched. “Say you’ll stay,” he whispered.
“I’ll stay,” MaKayla whispered back.
As their lips met, Gabe was reminded of the sweetness they’d shared the night before. He lifted her off the floor, and applause rang from the doorway, where Brooke and David grinned like cats over a mouse. MaKayla smiled against his lips for a second before kissing him quickly. He set her on her feet, but kept one arm around her.
“Where’s my fifty bucks?” Gabe asked, and David’s smile quickly disappeared.
“What fifty bucks?” asked MaKayla.
“We had a bet over who would win this morning’s race between you two.”
“You bet fifty bucks on me?” Brooke stared up at David, who looked at the floor and nodded. Brooke threw her arms around David and kissed him soundly on the mouth. David, stunned by her reaction, didn’t respond for a full three seconds. Then he placed his hands on either side of her face and kissed her back.
MaKayla let out a whoop, and Brooke jumped back like she’d been caught by the principal. MaKayla’s phone beeped somewhere in the room, and she checked the bedside clock. “It’s late.”
Gabe smiled as MaKayla shifted into mega-super-planner mode. Shooing David and Brooke out of the doorway, she said, “You two go out to the pool house and figure this thing out.” She waved between the two of them. “We have about forty minutes until the first guests arrive and I expect you back to help entertain.”
To their credit, they didn’t argue with her, but sheepishly made their way out the back door.
Once they were gone, MaKayla rounded on Gabe. “You need to shave and get dressed. I have to check with the caterer, make a quick round to see if the seating chart is correct, and …” she bent to pick up Brooke’s grocery bag. “… put these rolls in the serving basket.” She checked the grandfather clock in the hall. “But we have five minutes to spare, so I think you’d better hurry up and kiss me.”
Gabe didn’t hesitate, and when they squished the bag of rolls between them, MaKayla let out a squeak, tossed the bag aside, and pressed her body to his.
Ten minutes later, when the caterer cleared his throat and said, “Ma’am, where do you want the turkey?” they finally pulled apart enough to breathe. Gabe couldn’t let her go.
“I’ll be right there,” she said, and the man went back to the kitchen while Gabe started kissing her neck.
“Gabe.” She breathed his name as she rose up on her tiptoes.
He stopped kissing and groaned. “This is going to be the longest Thanksgiving I’ve ever had. Can’t we just put a do not disturb sign on the front door?”
MaKayla giggled. “What if I promise to make it worth the wait?”
Gabe groaned again, but let her pull away this time. She retrieved the bag from the floor and made her way to the kitchen, pausing to smile at him from the doorway. It took all his strength, but he managed not to follow her and take her back into his arms.
Chapter 24
Gabe stood at the head of the table in his wedding suit and lifted his glass. A turkey, looking much the worse for wear, sat on the sideboard in the formal dining room. A basket with only a few smashed rolls remaining sat next to it, and various business acquaintances, family members, and friends gave him their full attention as he cleared his throat.
“I have a lot to be thankful for this year, but my biggest blessing was so unexpected that I’m still reeling with happiness.” He turned to face MaKayla and felt his voice catch. “MaKayla, you create moments that take my breath away, and I am truly thankful that you agreed to be my wife.” He lifted his glass in MaKayla’s direction, and everyone followed suit.
MaKayla blushed and took Gabe’s hand as he sat down.
David, who was holding Brooke’s hand, leaned over and said, “Speaking of your wedding …”
Gabe smiled at MaKayla, who nodded her assent. He planned to shred the prenup and Pamela would have to understand the change in circumstances, besides, David was practically family. Lowering his voice, Gabe said, “I’ll tell you after the party clears out.”
“Actually,” MaKayla smiled. “He’ll have to tell you Monday morning. He’s busy for the rest of the weekend.”
Gabe raised an eyebrow.
“I told you, I’d make it worth the wait.” She winked.
Gabe about fell off his chair. “In that case, dinner’s over.”
MaKayla laughed. “We haven’t even had pie.”
“Okay, pie, and then I’m kicking everyone out.”<
br />
MaKayla laughed and signaled to the servers to clear the dinner plates.
Gabe had to admit: Pamela was right. Marriage was the answer to all his problems. MaKayla not only ran his charities with an expert hand; she filled in the holes in his life. No one could replace Michael, but as Gabe took in the people seated around the table, including David, Brooke, and even Rob from accounting and his wife, he realized MaKayla had built a family around her. Scratch that, she’d built a family around them. He was looking forward to Thanksgivings to come when they added seats to the table.
Picking up her hand, Gabe pressed his lips to MaKayla’s fingers. She smiled at him, and he knew his life would be full of breathless moments.
Thank You
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Billionaire Marriage Brokers Book: The Professional Bride. Keep reading to get a sneak peak and find out how Pamela pulls together another perfect match.
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The Professional Bride
Chapter 1
“I can’t believe you’re actually going to see him.”
Rym switched the phone from one ear to the other so he could open his car door. “What am I supposed to do? It’s his dying wish.” Those were the attorney’s exact words: dying wish. The guy knew how to guilt a grandson into visiting his grandfather, that was for sure.
Mom huffed into the phone. “I don’t care if he’s hanging off a cliff and you’re the only one who can save him—he’s not worth the time. He wasn’t there for us; why should you be there for him now?”
Rym paused before answering. Grandpa Mike had disowned Rym’s father before Rym was born, but he’d always sent Rym the latest ski gear for Christmas and a wad of cash for his birthday—cash he’d have to hide from his dad, or it would end up at the bottom of a vodka bottle. Rym had worked at his grandpa’s ski resort since he was old enough to bus dishes. The old man had never paid him special attention, but Rym always felt as though Grandpa kept a close eye on things. Unlike his mother, Rym had separated his relationship with his grandpa from his father’s relationship with the man. They weren’t close by any means, but Grandpa had, if not Rym’s love, his respect.
“I’m going to see what he has to say.”
There was a sigh. “Call me when you get out.”
Rym hung up the phone. The gate to Grandpa Mike’s private living community swung open as he approached. He’d never been up here before. He stopped at the guard station and asked directions.
Climbing the mountain, Rym realized he was on the backside of one of his favorite ski runs. The homes faced the street he was on, but their backs faced the ski lifts and hills. They were stunning homes, with banks of windows to allow the occupants to look out over the ski resort. It made sense that his grandpa would own a home on top of his ski resort. Rym had probably skied past his grandpa’s house a thousand times and not even known it.
A nurse in purple scrubs answered the door and showed Rym through the house. The home had two wings. The entrance wing was a mess of bare sheetrock and scaffolding. The nurse led Rym through a hallway that was more like an enclosed bridge to the private wing.
A large hospital bed was in the middle of a living room area. When Grandpa Mike saw Rym, he pushed a button to raise the bed. Rym was shocked to see his robust grandfather in such a weakened state. He doubted the man could have sat himself up without the bed’s help. His skin hung on his body, sickly yellow
“You came.” Grandpa’s eyes sparkled.
Because of the way he brightened, Rym was grateful he’d come. No one deserved to die alone or feeling lonely, though there were enough people in the room to keep Grandpa company. Two men in suits sat on a leather couch; they shifted through papers strewn out on the coffee table before them. Besides the nurse in purple, there was a doctor in a white coat and another nurse in green.
Grandpa Mike held out a hand and Rym stepped forward to take it. Instead of shaking hands, Grandpa pulled Rym closer and held on.
Feeling awkward with a man he hardly knew holding his hand and a roomful of people watching them, Rym sat on the bed and cleared his throat. “How are you feeling?” he asked. It was such a stupid question, but there wasn’t much else to talk about.
“Like crap—but they say that’s normal when you’re about to die.”
Rym’s jaw dropped.
Grandpa chuckled. “There’s no point in dancing around the issue. I don’t have time to shoot the bull. So, you’re here and I have stuff to say. Are you ready to listen?”
Rym nodded.
“I’ve done well in my life. My one regret was how I treated your dad.” Grandpa coughed.
Rym wasn’t sure if it was a sick cough or a cough used to cover emotion.
“I’ve had a lot of time to think about this, and I realized that he messed up his life, but there were things I could have done to help him and I didn’t.” His boney hand tightened around Rym’s. “I’ll see him sooner than you will, and hopefully, by the time we welcome you into the next life, he will have forgiven me for my hard heart.”
All the times his father had railed in drunken furry about how his father threw him out of the house and told him never to come back—the anger and the wounded look in his eyes—haunted Rym. He wondered if a thousand years would be enough time for his father to forgive Grandpa. He couldn’t say that to Grandpa, though, not when the man was going to find out the truth soon enough.
“Thank you for telling me. I … it matters,” said Rym.
Grandpa lifted one cheek in a weak smile. “Good. But that’s not why you’re here.”
“Okay?” Rym looked across Grandpa’s bed to the nurse refilling his water cup. He wondered if Grandpa had some sort of dementia on top of everything else; he bounced from topic to topic like a squirrel hopping trees.
When he turned back, Grandpa’s whole countenance had become serious. “Rym, you’re all the family I have.”
Rym gave his hand a gentle squeeze.
“You’ve done well for yourself. You worked your way through life, and you’ve worked hard.”
If only you knew.
“I started out like you, you know? I didn’t have more than two dimes to rub together. But …” He turned to look out the window at the stunning winter landscape. “I built this resort, and I made it into something.”
That’s putting it mildly. The Iron Mountain Ski Resort was one of the premier ski resorts in the world. His grandfather owned the best real estate in Park City. They catered to the wealthy and still managed to serve the local ski community.
Grandpa faced him. “It’s yours.”
Rym lowered his eyebrows. “What is?”
“All of it.” Grandpa coughed again.
“All of what?” Rym dropped his hand and took two steps away from the bed.
Grandpa sighed. “I’ve watched you grow up, Rym. You may have thought I just threw money your way, but I paid attention. You’ve worked at the resort since you were fourteen, and you bring in more guests as a private ski instructor than anyone else on my payroll. You know this business, Rym. I’d—” Grandpa did that emotional cough thing again. “I’d planned on bringing you into management when you turned thirty. By the time you were forty, I’d hand the place over. But plans change.”
All his life, Rym had been told not to expect anything from the old man, and he never had. He’d pushed himself to get through college. Even now, he lived on canned
soup and cereal to save money. His apartment was a joke that he shared with two guys in order to afford rent. Never, not even once, did he believe he’d be in the will. Needing to sit down, Rym fell into the visitor’s chair next to the bed.
“Rym!” Grandpa called. Then he started coughing for real. The nurse hurried over, and the doctor pushed something into the IV tube.
“You’ll have to go,” said the nurse in purple.
Shocked, Rym pulled his feet under him like a first timer on skis, unsure if he’d be able to stay up.
Rym was halfway through the bridge-hallway thing when one of the men in suits caught up to him.
“Sir, wait.”
Rym’s feet stopped, but his brain couldn’t get going.
“Hi, I’m Robert McGraw, we talked on the phone earlier today.”
Right, the guilt-maker.
“I know you’re probably reeling, but there are some things we need to go over.”
“Like what?” Rym couldn’t think of a single thing—at all. He still couldn’t believe his Grandpa was dying. They weren’t close, but the man had been an icon in Rym’s life. In many ways, he’d molded Rym in ways Rym hadn’t thought of until he had to face a world without Grandpa in it. For one, he’d given Rym a reason to be proud of his last name, a reason to hold his head high even when hauling his dad out of the bars. That meant something to Rym as he grew from a boy into a man.
“There are several small points we should cover when it comes to inheriting a ski resort, your grandfather’s estate, and his investments. But you need to know there is one stipulation that will affect you in a … shall we say, personal way.”
Wow—when Grandpa said, “It’s all yours,” he meant it. What would his mother say? Rym folded his arms. “Shoot.”
Mr. McGraw gave him a sympathetic smile. “You’ll have to get married.”
Rym’s eyebrows shot up. “Married?”
“I know it’s unconventional, especially these days. But your grandfather had—I’m sorry, has a friend named Pamela, who runs a matchmaking service. She specializes in marriages that are mutually beneficial for both parties.” He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a card. “You’ll need to contact her today. She’s called several times to check on your grandfather, and she’ll be expecting your call.”
The Organized Bride (Billionaire Marriage Brokers Book 2) Page 14