by Meghan March
Jackie Gable, who should be long since off shift, stands in front of the computer when I step behind the counter.
Fuck. It didn’t even occur to me to wonder why she was still in her uniform in the lobby when she tried to deal with my mother, because my brain was otherwise occupied.
“You’re working late.”
“Someone called in sick, and it was easy enough for me to cover the shift.”
“We appreciate it,” I say as I glance at the machine used to make key cards.
Jackie’s gaze follows mine. I’ve never thought she was an idiot, and it doesn’t take her long to guess why I’m here.
She shakes her head at me. “Please tell me you’re not here for the reason I think you are.”
“I need a key made.”
“I know that I have absolutely no grounds to refuse to do this for you, but I’m refusing all the same. If my niece doesn’t want to see you, you can’t make her.”
I straighten and meet Jackie’s gaze, a paler blue version of Whitney’s. “Then you can move out of the way and I’ll do it myself. I’m not asking your permission, Ms. Gable.”
Jackie’s jaw tenses and I can tell she wants to tell me to go to hell, but she steps aside instead. Her professional demeanor slips as I take her place. “You better be really damn sure—”
I turn to pierce her with my stare. “Do you want your niece leaving town in the morning because of what my mother said to her tonight?”
Jackie stiffens. “What did she say?”
“I’m sure you can guess, given what you heard in the lobby earlier. Now, I need a damn key so I can fix this before she disappears from my life for another ten years.”
Jackie shoves me out of the way. “I’ll do it. I guarantee I’m faster.”
50
Whitney
I stare out at the darkness. The only thing I can hear from where I’m curled up on the terrace is the rushing water of the river below.
Tonight will be the last night I hear the river. Tomorrow, I’m gone.
I wrap the blanket tighter around my shoulders and think about how the hell I’m going to make this up to Cricket. She’ll be devastated. But in the end, I think she’ll understand.
I hope she understands.
From behind me comes a whooshing sound, and I jerk around to see a form step out into the darkness from my room. I open my mouth to scream, but he turns on the light.
Lincoln.
“How did you get in here?”
He holds up the plastic card. “Your aunt made me a key.”
The traitor. Although, she probably has no idea what happened tonight.
“She shouldn’t have. It’s not going to make this any easier.”
“Yeah, it is. Because you’re not going anywhere, Blue. Not this time.”
Tears burn in my eyes again. “You only get one mother, Lincoln. You can’t choose—”
He shakes his head and comes around to crouch in front of me. “There’s no choice to be made. That’s been done for years. I was too young and stupid to realize it before, but I’m not now. She told me what she said to you. How she tried to scare you, and then I fed into all of it that night at the cabin and pushed you away.” His hands cup the sides of my face, and he looks into my eyes. “I’m never pushing you away again.”
I know what Lincoln’s thinking right now. If he chooses me over his mother, we can live happily ever after, and I wish that were true. But there’s no way I can ever be happy knowing I caused that breach with his family. He may think his mother will get over it, but I know the truth. That woman will hate me until the day she dies, and I won’t be responsible for causing that break.
I wasn’t lying when I said that there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to see my mom again. To hear her voice. To smell her perfume. To listen to her hum as she cleaned the house.
Nothing.
“Please tell me you believe me, Blue.”
That’s the only easy part of this whole situation. “Of course I believe you,” I tell him.
“And you forgive me?”
This life has taught me more than anything that holding on to a grudge is the biggest mistake of all. I don’t know what he really thinks he needs forgiveness for, but I’m not holding on to any of it.
“I forgive you.”
His mouth finds mine, and every emotion comes through his kiss. Pain, regret, loss, sorrow. I taste them on my lips, and they make the kiss even more bittersweet.
No matter what Lincoln wants, tonight is good-bye.
One last night.
Maybe it’s unfair for me to take it, but it’ll be the memory I hold on to when I’m sleeping alone and missing him.
51
Lincoln
I carry Whitney inside, and as soon as I set her down, her fingers tear at the buttons of my shirt. The thread gives way, and they go flying.
She wants me just as badly as I want her. That’s how it’s always been. She’s always matched me kiss for kiss, touch for touch, thrust for thrust.
Tonight, I want to savor her, but she’s rushing, almost desperate to strip us both naked.
I will never not give her what she wants. Never again.
Her robe falls to the floor, revealing her naked curves.
“So fucking beautiful.”
She backs up until her shoulders press against the slider, and she uses the leverage to wrap first one leg around my hip and then the other.
“You sure this is what you want?”
“Yes. I don’t want to forget this.”
“I can give you unforgettable.”
I grip her hips, holding her against the door as I pull back a few inches to fit my cock against her. I open my mouth to ask her if she’s ready, but she’s already soaked.
“You’re always ready for me.”
“I can’t help it. I’ve wanted you all night.”
“I always want to give you what you want.”
With my gaze locked on hers, I push inside her inch by inch, watching her pupils dilate and her bottom lip fall open.
“I love watching you. So sexy. So incredible.”
Her hips buck against me. “Faster.”
“I need you on the bed to do this right.” I pull her off the glass, my hands cupping her ass as I walk to the edge of the bed. Instead of laying her down on her back, I sit, and she kneels above me.
“Take what you need.”
Whitney nods, and she starts to move. I let her set the pace, control every single thing, and she looks fucking magnificent as her head tips back and her black hair swings free.
She pushes at my shoulders and I lie back, shoving us further toward the middle of the bed. Whitney goes wild, her hips bucking and grinding, and she says my name over and over.
I reach out and find her clit with my thumb.
“Oh God. Yes. Yes. Like that.”
Whitney picks up the pace and before long, I’m the one yelling her name as I lose control and empty myself inside her.
52
Whitney
I never want to move. Ever.
Lincoln sleeps beside me on his stomach, his arm stretched out and his hand on my belly. My gaze drifts between his fingers and the sun rising over the gorge.
With each passing moment, I know the clock is ticking down. My bags are packed and waiting in the living room. My outfit for today is folded on the chair, just waiting for me to dress and walk out of The Gables and Lincoln Riscoff’s life forever.
When the room is bathed in yellow, I know I can’t put it off any longer. It’s time.
I roll out from under his hand, grab my clothes, and sneak into the bathroom. I wash my face, swipe on just enough makeup to get by, dress, and open the door just as silently as I entered.
I tiptoe out into the bedroom, but the bed is empty. Lincoln’s gone.
Did he run when he had the chance?
I walk into the living room and find him standing by the door, his arms crossed.
“What the hell
is this?” He jerks his head toward my suitcases.
I swallow. “I told you. I have to go.”
“And last night? What the fuck was that?”
“Good-bye,” I say, a hint of shame wrapping around me.
Lincoln shakes his head. “No. No more fucking good-byes. You leave? I leave. That’s how this works, Blue.”
“You can’t. You have a life here. A family that loves you—”
“And so do you.”
The man is impossible. I look up at the ceiling, find my confidence, and stare him down again. “I can’t stay here and drive a wedge between you and your mother. I won’t.”
Lincoln’s hard expression doesn’t shift. “And I’m done letting other people manipulate our lives to keep us apart. I’m fucking done. You leave, I leave. End of story.”
“I’m not worth it.” My voice breaks on the last word.
Lincoln’s arms fall to his sides. “Bullshit.” He strides toward me, his hands going out to cup my cheeks. “You’re worth everything. Every-fucking-thing. I have fucked up over and over again when it comes to you, and I’m not doing it again. I felt it last night. You felt it too.”
My lip trembles. “I told you, that was good-bye.”
“No, it wasn’t.” He looks at my suitcases. “You need to get out of Gable? You need to get out of this fucking hotel and away from this madness? I can do that. I will do that.”
He releases my cheeks and whips out his phone, tapping the screen a few times before lifting it to his ear. “Fuel up the chopper. I want it on the helipad at The Gables in thirty minutes or less. I’m going to Blue House.”
“What are you doing?”
Lincoln smiles. “Getting us both the hell out of here. I told you . . . you leave, I leave.”
“Lincoln!”
He shakes his head, and I recognize the stubborn look on his face. “You’re not getting rid of me this time, Blue. Not a fucking chance. We’re in this together. Whatever comes next, we face it together.”
I swallow because I love the sound of that. I want it to be that easy.
But nothing ever is.
53
Whitney
The past
When I walked downstairs at Jackie’s house the next morning, the only thing I could think was at least I didn’t let him throw me out again. I took a stand. I could still respect myself this morning, even if I felt like my heart was breaking all over again.
Maybe there was some way it could work between us . . . somehow?
I walked into the living room on my way to the kitchen and froze.
“Hey, baby,” Ricky said as he jumped up from the couch.
My eyes must have been as wide as dinner plates as they tracked from him to Aunt Jackie, Asa, Cricket, Karma, and Ricky’s mom all in the room. Cricket’s face looked strained, and she shook her head like she was trying to send me a message.
What the hell is going on here?
“Are you okay?” Asa asked. “Sleeping till noon isn’t normally your thing. And does anyone know whose truck is parked out front?”
Oh shit. It didn’t even occur to me that I needed to park Lincoln’s truck farther away from the house, because I was too upset.
“I swear I’ve seen that truck before,” Karma said, and the keys hung like dead weight in my hoodie pocket.
“I need coffee,” I blurted, poised to escape to the kitchen.
Ricky stepped forward. “Not yet. I have something I need to ask you first.”
“Can it wait until—” My question trailed off as he dropped on one knee, right there in Aunt Jackie’s living room in front of both our families.
Oh my God. Oh my God. No. This isn’t happening.
Blood rushed in my ears, practically drowning out the words he said next.
“Baby, you know I need you more than I’ve ever needed anyone in my life. I want to take care of you. Take you away from here. After this summer and everything that’s happened, I realized that life is too short to take chances. So I have to do this now. Marry me, Whitney.”
Hot tears slid down my cheeks. “I can’t do this right now. I can’t.” My voice shook, but my feet came unglued from where they’d been stuck to the floor.
I spun around and bolted for the front door. It crashed shut behind me, and I ran barefoot across the lawn.
My brain was a roiling mess, and the only thought that made any sense was get out of here.
I fished the keys out of my pocket and dropped them twice on the ground as I rushed to the truck. I didn’t even care that my brother was going to grill me about whose truck it was later. I just had to leave. Now.
As soon as I climbed inside, the passenger door flew open. My head jerked to the side.
It wasn’t Ricky.
No, it was his mom, her face pinched and angry. “I knew . . . I knew when I saw this truck.”
My entire body started to shake at her words.
“You think I wouldn’t recognize it? It’s the same type of truck the groundskeepers use at the Riscoff estate, and the same as what Roosevelt Riscoff used to drive when he came to see me.”
My head jerked back against the seat, hitting it hard enough it bounced. “What?” I gasped out the word. “You—”
Renee Rango’s gaze narrowed on me. “Don’t you dare judge me. You don’t know anything. But I do. I know exactly what’s going to happen if you keep trying to reach for something that’s so high above you. You think that boy will ever give you the life you want? No way. He’ll hide you away just like his father hid me until he pays you off to stay quiet about it ever happening.”
“Oh my God,” I whispered.
She nodded. “Yes, I’ve been where you are. I was stupid then. Naive. Trusting. I thought he loved me, and that eventually he’d find a way to tell his father that he wanted to be with me, no matter my background.” She laughed, and bitterness dripped from the sound. “Well, that didn’t happen. You don’t have the bloodlines they want either.”
Everything she said compounded on what Lincoln had said last night, and the greasy feeling plaguing me since then grew.
“He paid you off?”
Her lips twisted into an ugly smile. “Because I thought I was so smart. I got him to take me to Vegas. We had a quickie wedding he didn’t even remember because he was hammered. I didn’t bother to show him the marriage license until I had a positive pregnancy test in hand. I thought I had him by the balls then.”
I blinked twice, unable to believe what I was hearing. A pregnancy test? Did that mean Ricky was . . . I couldn’t even finish the thought before Renee kept going.
“And you know what he didn’t do? He didn’t take me home to Daddy to tell him he was going to be a grandpa. No, he hired some shyster of an attorney to divorce me, paid me off, and threatened to take my baby from me and make it so he was raised by people so far away that I’d never find him again. If you think for one second they wouldn’t do the same to you—or worse—then you’re dumber than I thought you were.”
Oh my God. I knew Lincoln’s father wasn’t a great man, but that seemed awfully cruel. “I don’t know what to say . . .” I stared down at my hands curled into my lap, squeezing them tight to stop the shaking.
“All you need to do is march your ass back into that house and tell my son you’re going to marry him.”
I jerked my head up to look at her. “What?”
Her lips pinched together. “You heard me. You’re going to marry my son.”
“But I don’t love him. You know I don’t. You can’t possibly want me to marry him.”
She lifted her chin. “I don’t give one good goddamn what you feel or don’t. My son needs you. He told me you write all his songs and that without you, he can’t be the rock star he wants to be. I’ve sacrificed everything to make my boy happy, and I’m not about to let some girl spreading her legs for a Riscoff ruin it.”
“You’re insane.”
Renee shook her head slowly. “No, I’m a mother. And when
your mom left Roosevelt Riscoff to die in that river, she took my paycheck with her. If you don’t marry my son and make him into a goddamned rock star, you’ll leave me with only one choice.”
“What?”
That ugly smile twisted her lips again. “I’ll go public. I’ll destroy your little boyfriend’s family and tell them all exactly who my son is—the legitimate heir to the Riscoff fortune.”
My entire body tensed with shock. Ricky is Lincoln’s half brother. His older half brother.
The entire town knew about the Riscoff inheritance tradition. Everything went to the oldest male of the next generation. Which meant . . . if I don’t marry Ricky, Lincoln will get nothing.
“I see you get what I’m saying.”
My mind spun in a million different directions at the same time, and my heart clenched painfully. “But you could’ve done that already. Could do that at any time. Why should I believe that you wouldn’t anyway?”
Renee’s green eyes pierced me, and for the first time, I realized that she wasn’t all there. I didn’t know if it was what happened with Lincoln’s father that broke her, but Ricky’s mom was crazy.
“My boy doesn’t want to be a Riscoff. He wants to be a rock star. And Ricky always gets what he wants, which includes you. You’re going to marry him and help him live that dream of his . . . or I’ll make sure he takes every single penny that’s supposed to go to your boyfriend.”
The woman was unhinged. Absolutely, totally, and completely. But I knew with complete certainty that she was also deadly serious.
The other thing I knew with complete certainty? If Ricky were to inherit the Riscoff fortune, he’d piss away every penny chasing his rock star dream. He’d run the companies into the ground because he wouldn’t give a single damn about how many people relied on the Riscoff name for a paycheck.