Reese, in the emcee position, greeted the mixed crowd again—the board of directors for Crane Holdings were here, and so were several CEOs from other companies. During cocktails at the opening of the evening, Eli had shaken hands with more people than he could remember.
Now he sat at a table off the corner of the stage, in the shadows, feeling a lot like he did before he’d been COO: Alone. With a fire in the hearth and no company but the ticking clock.
Except he’d changed since then. He had…and he hadn’t. After his dad talked to him on the rooftop, Eli had nearly bolted out the door to run straight to Isa. Later that next day, he’d nearly called her. And every day thereafter, he’d thought of sending a text message.
It’d all resulted in enough inaction to make a man of action sick. His last-minute idea to ship Isa the items he’d ruined while they were together had come in barely enough time to hire a courier to have it delivered. He’d watched his phone for a call or a text since early this morning. The only one he’d received was one from the courier saying he’d delivered it to a woman with long, dark hair at Sable Concierge.
His assumption was that his gift wasn’t well received. He’d known sending it was a risk; he just hadn’t anticipated how much it would hurt when she rejected him again.
“Reese is a natural up there. It’s disgusting,” Tag said, carrying a pair of shot glasses in one hand. He sat at the table next to Eli. Tag never was one for the stage, which blew Eli’s mind since the lastborn Crane was a natural showman. Tag shoved a shot glass in front of Eli. “Thought you could use some fortifying before you go up next.”
“I’m fine,” Eli bit out. Reese was yammering on about the year so far. Blah blah blah.
“What’s up your ass?” Tag asked under his breath, leaning back in the chair he was dwarfing.
“Currently? Every one of my family members.” Eli felt his petulant frown as he recalled what his father had said last week. The reason they’d converged for biweekly dinners was because no one wanted Eli to be alone. Eli was pissed—mostly at himself—but didn’t want to disappoint Tag’s expectations of Eli being both grouchy and brooding.
“Any one family member in particular?”
“Merina,” he grumbled. She’d been the one who’d helped him shop for Isa’s clothes. He hadn’t told her the details about why he was replacing those specific items, only that he’d promised Isa he would.
When Merina had pushed, he’d brought up the doorknob she and Reese were always joking about and she shut up instantly. Eli didn’t want to know the story behind how that particular piece of hardware was intertwined with their love story.
Merina had also encouraged him to deliver the clothes himself. He hadn’t, of course. Somehow, with her female superpowers, she’d known. When he’d arrived tonight, Merina stepped directly in his path and asked how Isa was doing. When he’d replied he didn’t know, she’d accused him of being too careful. She wasn’t wrong, which made him angry.
“Long story short? Merina offered to help me pick out a gift for Isa, only I had it delivered instead of taking it myself. Merina told me I was too careful.”
Tag’s face pinched. “You didn’t take it yourself?”
Eli’s next breath sounded more like a growl. “Careful is an insult. She may as well call me a wimp.”
“Well. You are.” Tag smiled and raised his shot to his lips, knowing that Eli couldn’t punch him in the arm for the quip. They may be in the shadows, but the surrounding tables were packed with guests.
A woman peered over her shoulder at them now. Eli sent her a curt smile before turning his attention back to his brother. “I stepped in it with Isa.”
“I know that, too.”
Eli sighed. “Do you think it’s simpler than we make it?”
Tag nodded. “I do. Whatever we’re nervous about losing is found in what we have been avoiding.”
“Deep,” Eli said, but Tag nailed it. Eli had attempted to avoid the pain of losing Isa and then lost her anyway.
“Catch twenty-two,” Tag murmured.
“I never went to her, and I should have. I held back.” God, that phrase fucking haunted him.
“Why didn’t you go to her, E? Did you decide she wasn’t worth it?”
“No. Fuck no.” He scrubbed his forehead, wanting to explain but not knowing how. Tag continued waiting, so Eli gave it a try. “It’s like…my head is muddy whenever I try and think about what she means to me. When she’s gone, my arms and heart are empty—cavernous. Whenever she was around, my breathing went shallow and my chest caved in.”
“I know the feeling.” Tag smirked.
“I wanted to be certain—completely certain—about how I felt about her before I made promises. I don’t want her to have less than she deserves.” Eli dropped his hands in his lap and blew out a frustrated breath.
“You’re in love,” Tag stated with such certainty that Eli’s heart skipped a beat, then kicked his chest with twice the force.
“I don’t know what love is,” Eli said numbly.
Tag let out one of his heartier laughs. “What you described is exactly what love is, E.” He shook his head. “The not knowing, the uncertainty. The nausea. That feeling of fullness and lightness at the same time.”
“So you’re saying it’s a lot like public speaking,” Eli quipped.
Tag looked nauseous at the mention of it. “Kind of.”
“…my brother, Eli Crane,” Reese introduced, and everyone in the room began clapping.
“Well, that’s inconvenient,” Eli said, standing and buttoning his tuxedo jacket.
“You’re up.” Tag slapped him on the back. “Give your acceptance speech and try not to cry.”
* * *
After a brief speech, Eli stood with his brothers and father sipping scotch. He’d thanked his family and his country and assured everyone he had big plans for running operations at Crane Hotels. When he told the crowd to hang on because they ain’t seen nothin’ yet, everyone erupted in whistles and applause.
Once they quieted down, he thanked Christopher and Benji, too, and asked everyone in attendance to consider donating to Refurbs for Vets. Then he stepped down, accepted a glass of scotch from his father, and mingled with the fray.
Eli didn’t love scotch, but now that he was a corporate man in charge, it felt right to hold a drink poured into a sturdy rocks glass.
“It isn’t so bad, is it?” his father asked with a smug smile beneath his mustache. His dad’s goatee reminded Eli of his own beard. He’d missed it and started growing it back. Eli smoothed his facial hair now, taking in his father’s bright red tie. The color reminded him of the dress he’d sent to Isa. He wondered if she’d bothered opening the box.
He missed her so damned much.
“Elijah Crane.” A short, round man with graying hair and a wide smile approached with a hand extended. “Dave Dillon. I was talking with your contractor, Zach.” He shot a thumb over his shoulder at the tall, blond man walking their way. “My company designs kitchens and we’d love to get involved with Refurbs for Vets. Can we talk more? I liked everything you said about rehabilitation not stopping in the hospital. About how real contribution was meaningful contribution.”
“Sounds more regal coming from you.” Eli shook the older man’s hand.
“Thank you for your service,” Dave said, and then turned to Alex. “And yours, sir. I hear you are a Marine as well.”
“I am that.” Alex put a hand on the man’s shoulder. “I’m curious to hear more about your company. Have a drink with me?”
“Dave has deep pockets,” Zach muttered against the mouth of his beer bottle as Alex Crane walked the other man to the bar.
“Dad will find the bottom,” Eli told him.
Zach was dressed in black pants, the collar of his white button-down shirt open. No tie for him.
“Appreciate the intro,” Eli told him. “We’ll take all the contributions we can get.”
“How about another?” Reese
asked. At first Eli thought Reese was offering him a refill on his empty scotch, but then he looked up to find a beautiful blonde in a white dress, her bright blue eyes shrewd and assessing. “Penelope Brand, my brother, Eli.”
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Crane.” She extended her hand and when he shook it, her grip was a hell of a lot stronger than Eli had expected.
“Ms. Brand is the PR specialist I used a few years back when I was vying for CEO,” Reese said. “Now that you’ve accepted the limelight, she’s a great ally to have. If you or any of your staff at Refurbs need public spin, Penelope is your woman.”
“Zachary Ferguson,” came a syrupy introduction.
Eli watched as Zach put on his I’m-a-harmless-country-boy act. Penelope’s eyes narrowed, her jaw set.
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Ferguson. You stay out of trouble so that Mr. Crane doesn’t have to call me in, okay?” Her smile was as sharp as her assessment of Zach.
“Yeah, that’d be awful,” Zach said, his dimpled smile not budging.
“Excuse me for a moment.” Eli couldn’t take another second of other people flirting around him. He dropped his empty glass onto a tray, strolling toward the bar as he checked out the room. Mostly employees of Crane Hotels were in attendance, though they’d taken their drinks and coffee to the tables, one by one loosening their ties and kicking back to shoot the shit about work.
“What can I get you, sir?” the bartender asked.
Eli opened his mouth to say scotch, but a smoky, sensual female voice ordered for him.
“Two Stella Artois. Bottles.”
He turned to find Isa behind him, dressed in a body-hugging, thigh-baring, short red dress. The very dress Merina had promised would be “perfect for her.” Merina was right.
As gorgeous as Isa was with her hair in waves around her shoulders and her gold jewelry understated and winking in the lighting, it was her presence that floored Eli the most.
“Isa.” His voice was a dry croak. “You’re here.”
“Hey, soldier. You didn’t think I’d let your big night pass by without coming to congratulate you, did you?” Her smile shook for a second, giving him a spike of hope that she was here for more than business reasons.
“Nice dress.” He took a step closer to her and her smile vanished. She fiddled with the ring on her right hand in a nervous gesture.
“Did you pick it out yourself?” she asked.
“Merina.”
“She has good taste.”
He kept his eyes on hers, that feeling of falling into them not as scary as it was twenty-four hours ago.
Tag was right. Eli was in love. He knew because he wasn’t sure he’d be able to hold himself upright if Isa rejected him again—and she might.
“Why did you really come here tonight, Sable?” His heart was in his throat, half scared of her answer. She had the power to break him—he was hers through and through. No wonder he’d never wanted to admit as much. Not knowing if she felt anything for him was terrifying.
“You know me. I don’t run away from uncomfortable situations.” She thrust her chin out, but he noticed her pulse flutter to life in her neck. Nerves?
God. He hoped so. He hoped she was nervous for the same reasons he was—because she was uncertain about where he stood. But she didn’t have to worry.
“I do know you.” He took a step closer. “You tend to step into the lion’s den boldly, don’t you?”
Her gaze flitted to the side, but she held her ground. He loved her for it. This strong, beautiful, brave woman. She was everything he wasn’t—and some of what he was finding his way back to.
“Your beers, sir,” the bartender announced. Eli held up a hand signaling him to hang on.
“Tell me why you came, Sable.” He hadn’t dreamed she’d show up tonight, and until this very moment hadn’t realized how much he had needed her to. “Professional courtesy? Networking?”
Her nod was shaky.
“Or for personal reasons?” He lifted his hand to her face and cupped her jaw.
“Your note wasn’t clear.” Her breathy whisper was more of a plea. “What more do I deserve Eli?”
He caught the tail end of her sentence with his mouth, moving his lips softly, firmly over hers. She gave and gave, until their tongues tangled. Soon, his hands were spearing upward into her hair as he held her close—as Isa’s fists curled around his lapels and she anchored herself to him.
When her hand flattened over his heart, he felt every aching ounce of loss that had compounded over the last two weeks. When it hit him, the ferocity stopped his heart and throttled his brain. He pulled his mouth from hers.
“Isabella.” He swallowed thickly, feeling weak in the knees—not good for a guy who’d lost everything below one of them. “It’s a beautiful name.”
She shook her head on a soft laugh.
“You deserve better than a man like me,” he said. “That’s what I meant in the note.”
“So you lied,” she said, one eyebrow arched. He shook his head to argue, but she continued. “I gave you an ultimatum and I shouldn’t have. You asked for time and I didn’t honor that request. I should have.”
“No. You shouldn’t have.”
She blanched.
“I’ve had all the time I need, Sable.” She’d come to him. She’d sought him out, bravely and surely. She was here and he knew the reason why even if she hadn’t voiced it. She loved him. She had to. No way would she have poured herself into the dress he’d sent and stood before him like this unless she did.
He reached behind him for the nearest empty chair and collapsed into it, the weight of what this woman had done for him pushing him down. Hands on his knees, he struggled for air.
He loved her. She loved him. They were going to make this work.
Everything he’d been fighting had come to pass. She was exactly what he needed.
Isa came into view, concern in her whiskey-colored eyes as she knelt before him on the carpet, dress be damned.
“Eli.” Her hands covered his. “Are you in pain?”
He looked up, a smile on his face when he tipped her chin and told her the truth. “Not anymore.”
* * *
Eli’s face…
Isa’s heart slammed into her chest at full force. The lightness in his eyes, the tender grip he had on her jaw told her he was telling the truth. Eli wasn’t in pain.
Not anymore.
“I love you, Sable.”
She stared, mute, shaking her head. She’d come here to apologize, to get back on track with Eli—to give him the time he’d requested. She’d never expected a profession. He’d completely flipped that script.
“I wasn’t ready before,” he said. “The truth is I don’t want to be ready.” He brushed her cheek with his fingers. “I’ve never built something to last. I’ve never bothered trying. But with you…I want to build a future with you, Isa. Because any moment of the present where you’re not here is a dark, dark day.”
She blinked, hoping her twenty-dollar mascara held up and didn’t streak down her cheeks.
“I should have been braver.” He fingered the sleeve of the dress. “I should have brought this to you in person.”
“Eli Crane,” she said when she found her voice. “You’re the bravest man I know.”
“You’re the bravest woman I know.” He delivered the sweetest kiss to the center of her lips. “Do you still love me, Sable?”
His jaw tightened as he watched for her answer. The background and the din of chatter faded as she looked into his soulful, dark blue eyes.
“I fell in love with you a long time ago,” she told him. Worry ate into his eyes, and he swallowed thickly, but he had no reason to worry. “I haven’t had the good sense to fall back out.”
“No?”
She loved the hope that filtered into his eyes. She loved him.
“Not even a little,” she said.
He offered his palms and she accepted, sliding her hands into his. He helped her to
her feet, standing with her, their clothes brushing as they stood close. Isa pushed her hands into his shorter hair and tipped her head back to study the scruff currently residing on his jaw.
“I prefer the beard.”
A flash of white teeth when he grinned swelled her heart and lifted her chest.
“I prefer you,” he said. “Always.”
“Always is a big commitment.”
“Always might not be long enough.”
Her eyes dipped as his lips came over hers and then…
They were rudely interrupted.
“He can handle it.”
Isa, lips still puckered, opened her eyes to find Tag standing next to them, his arm around Rachel’s shoulders.
“Making out in the middle of a company dinner isn’t professional,” Reese said as he joined their cozy circle.
“Yeah,” Merina told Eli. “PDA is more your brother’s forte.” She tipped her head to admire her husband.
“I only did that for the paparazzi,” Reese told her.
“I think the Cranes have a penchant for public attention,” Rachel said. “Tag never minded making a spectacle of himself.”
“Look at him,” Merina quipped. “He is a spectacle.”
“Don’t you guys have anywhere else to be?” Eli asked through his teeth. But he held fast to Isa, his hand warming her lower back.
“We don’t,” Rachel said, her wide eyes innocent—which Isa was quickly gleaning she was not.
Eli turned to Isa. “They come with the package. You don’t get one Crane without getting them all.”
“I like them all.” Isa stroked her fingertip over his scruff and along his full bottom lip. She belonged here in the circle of his arms. “But I only love one of you.”
“Me, I hope,” Eli said.
“It’s always been you.”
His lips lowered to hers, but she couldn’t keep her smile away when whoops and cheers came from Eli’s brothers and the women who had tamed the other Crane men. Isa tucked their cheers, and Alex’s raspy “ooh-rah” of approval, into her heart.
She was finally falling in love—with a man who had confiscated her heart and upended her life. And she knew Eli, sure and strong on his own two feet, would keep a tight hold of her as she did.
The Bastard Billionaire Page 27