The Faithful One: Billionaire Bride Pact Romance

by Checketts, Cami

  Trin blinked and pulled back. His kisses were like a drug to her, but she suddenly knew what was wrong with their relationship and it was horrible. She stepped out of the circle of his arms and walked to the porch swing, sitting heavily.

  “What’s wrong?” Zander hurried to sit beside her and take her hand in his.

  “Zander, me, you.” Tears sprung to her eyes. “I knew something was off and I just realized what it was.”

  “What?” He clung to her hand.

  “Have you ever heard of a co-dependent personality?”

  He released her hand and leaned back against the swing. “Really, Trin? You think I didn’t hear all this crap when I was going through rehab?”

  “I’m sure you did.” She leaned toward him even though he was cold and closed off. “It’s not crap though, Zander. I know because my stepdad is the same.”

  “You just compared me to your stepdad, who you don’t even like?”

  “Please don’t get defensive and just listen to me for a minute.”

  “If I was attacking you, would you be defensive?”

  Trin nodded. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to attack you, but we need to figure this out because I really, truly want to be with you. Even more than I want to live here in the Cloverdale.”

  Zander’s eyes widened. He understood what this house meant to her.

  “My stepdad has been addicted to everything from smoking to golf to online gambling. When he married my mom she was his passion. I was seven and completely in the way.”

  “Just because you resent your stepdad doesn’t mean our relationship is flawed.”

  “I do resent him, but there’s more. He was addicted to her, madly in love, until something more shiny came along. He never cheated on her with a woman, but he’s cheated on her with sports, online gaming, spending money. You name it. She’s not even in the top ten things that are important to him and I’ve seen my younger siblings suffer as he takes a turn being obsessive about something with them then dropping them. My younger brother, Jarren, is an amazing baseball player. So for a while my stepdad was obsessed with baseball and being there for Jarren, but when Jarren didn’t get picked up by a D1 school, and played at the community college instead, he dumped Jarren and hasn’t been to a game since.”

  Zander sat completely still during her speech. Finally, he muttered, “So I remind you of your stepdad?”

  “No. You’re the most amazing man I know.” She placed a hand on Zander’s arm, praying he would understand. “I want to be with you so much I ache, but I feel like we both need to figure ourselves out before we can figure out us. Does that make sense?”

  “What do you want me to do?” He stood and paced the porch. “Meet with a therapist, deal with my commitment issues, go home and come to terms with my mom’s death?”

  “Yes,” she whispered. “I want to be here for you. I want you to forgive yourself so we can have a healthy relationship.”

  Zander stared at her for a few seconds and all she knew was he was angry. “If I’m like your stepdad and have only been obsessed with you because I’m co-dependent and I’m going to move on to the next ‘shiny thing’ why have I never, ever wanted to commit myself to a woman before this?”

  Trin knew he was telling the truth and it warmed her through, but they couldn’t start a relationship without him forgiving himself for his mom’s death first and getting some help and her knowing she wasn’t just his next “shiny thing”. She stood and faced him, not afraid he would hurt her in his anger, but afraid he would leave and never come back. “I love that about you, Zander. I’m not saying we can’t work, because I want you more than you’ll ever know, but please, let’s take some time and figure this out. I just have to know I’m not another addiction like alcohol or exercise.”

  Zander reared back like she’d slapped him. He studied her face like he was memorizing it then he said so quietly she almost couldn’t hear him, “Maybe you should look at the fact that you’re a workaholic and married to this house before you start shooting arrows.”

  He opened the front door and disappeared inside. Trin sank onto the porch swing, stunned, and questioning every intention she’d had. Had she just ruined everything with Zander? Had she said that all wrong? She’d become the harpie she told him she’d protect him from. The Scarlett O’Hara. Oh, that was awful. And maybe he was right about her. She hung her head, knowing she was every bit as tied to this house and taking care of it as he was training for his races. Maybe they could go talk to somebody together.

  A few minutes later he returned, his arms full of luggage. He glanced at her and said, “Goodbye,” then continued down the porch steps, shoved his luggage in the back of his sport utility and without another word climbed in and drove away.

  “Wait,” Trin whispered. She needed to explain better, needed to tell him she would try to change too, they could get help together. She finally found her legs. The car was about to pull out of the driveway. She raced down the porch steps and followed his car into the street. If he noticed, he didn’t stop. She ran the entire block until his taillights were red dots and then she sank to the sidewalk. Her legs were spent and her heart was breaking. Tears streaked her cheeks as nothing but the cold cement embraced her.

  Chapter 14

  Chapter

  Zander couldn’t get a flight out until 6:41 a.m. He wasn’t surprised, both Montgomery and Burligton, Vermont were smaller airports. He slumped into a chair in terminal A5 and prepared to wait. What was one more miserable night in an airport? He heard his phone ding but didn’t pull it out of his pocket. It was probably Trin and if she told him one more time that she would only love him if he saw a therapist, he was going to crack and find the nearest bar.

  All the words that Trin had said and that he had thrown back at her ricocheted around in his head. She may have been right that he needed to get over his mom’s death and he might need some professional help for that, but she was wrong calling him co-dependent. He went through months at Tranquility Woods and found the Lord, to give him hope, and his training, to keep him busy and productive. Plus, there was nothing wrong with being addicted to the right woman. His dad had been that way with his mom, right? He’d been a teenager when his mom died so he’d more tried to ignore them when they were loving with each other, but they’d had a great relationship.

  Was Trin the right woman for him or was the cold hard truth that he hadn’t allowed himself a relationship in ten years and of course the first woman he let in would be amazing? He slumped down in the vinyl chair, ignoring the lady three seats down chatting away on her cell phone. Who was she talking to at midnight anyway? An announcement came that Flight 1541 to Atlanta was now boarding.

  Zander closed his eyes and pictured Trin. If she were any more right for him, she would’ve had to be hand-delivered to him by angels. Maybe his mom had a part in them coming together. He groaned. Why couldn’t she accept him as he was? Why did she always throw up another barrier between them?

  Yet, he was right about the fact that she was a workaholic. Would she leave her house for him? Could he ask that of her? Yes, if they ever wanted to have a life together. Working with her at the Cloverdale had been enjoyable, mostly because he was with her, but also because he had a purpose. Maybe she was right and he did need to do more with his means and influence, but he didn’t want to be tied to something the way she was. He laid his head back on the seat and wished the time would go faster. The longer he sat here the more he wanted to grab another rental car and go back to Trin. He couldn’t do that. He was going home. That was enough of a sacrifice for right now. He dreaded seeing his childhood home, but was excited at the same time. If only things were right with him and Trin. Having her with him would make it so much easier.

  * * *

  Zander flew into Burlington and rented a car. The drive to Essex Junction was too short, but he couldn’t get enough of the familiar sites around him. The leaves had fallen, but he still thought his home state was the prettiest around
. Why had he let so much time go by since he’d come here? The rolling hills passed quickly and before he knew it he was pulling into his father’s estate. He gripped the steering wheel with both hands and his neck muscles needed a highly trained masseuse.

  The guard waiting at the gate was unfamiliar to him. “Can I help you, sir?”

  “Yes. I’m …” He cleared his throat and forced out the words. “Zander Keller. Here to see my father.”

  “Welcome, sir.” The guard’s reluctant expression changed to open inspection. He must’ve seen the family resemblance as he didn’t ask for ID. The gate automatically swung wide. Zander eased the rental car through. His hands trembled against the steering wheel so he clutched it tighter, making his neck ache more. He stared around at the wooded property. This time of year with the leaves gone, he could actually see through the thick forest, but mostly there were just more trees to see. The lake where he had swum as a child and teenager was barely visible.

  He pulled around the circle drive, put the car in park, and rested his head on the steering wheel. Could he go in that house? Knowing his mom would not be there to greet him? Maybe it was pathetic of him, but it was the reason he’d never come back. His dad had somehow understood that Zander couldn’t face the house without her and had allowed him to stay at a hotel until the funeral was over then go to a boarding school in upstate New York for his senior year. Distancing himself from everything that reminded him of his mom, including his dad was the only way he’d survived. Well, that and the alcohol.

  His car door popped open and Zander jerked up. His dad stood there, beaming. “My boy.” He choked up and couldn’t say anymore, but tugged on Zander’s arm. Zander allowed himself to be pulled from the car and into his father’s arms. He was taller than his dad, but he rested his head on his shoulder and let the tears come.

  “You’re home,” his dad kept saying, “You’re really home.”

  Zander finally pulled himself together and straightened up. “It was time,” he muttered.

  “I’m so happy.” His dad scrubbed the tears from his own face.

  “He’s here!” The shriek came from the front steps.

  Zander whirled and dang it if the tears didn’t start up again. “Hannah!” He raced up the stairs and lifted the little woman into his arms, swinging her around.

  She giggled and swatted at him. “Put me down, you handsome thing you, I ain’t as young as I used to be.”

  Her red hair did have some streaks of gray, but she still had a sparkle in her blue eyes. He’d seen her almost every Christmas, but coming home made him take more notice of the changes.

  “I missed you.” He set her on her feet, but kept one arm around her.

  His dad joined them on the porch, grinning at both of them.

  “You better have missed my cooking as much as you missed me. Look at you—all muscle and bone. I’d better get to whipping up some of your favorite creamy chicken potato soup with homemade bread and honey butter. Why didn’t you tell us you were coming so I could have it all ready?”

  “Sorry.” Zander shrugged.

  “No worries. You talk with your father then you come chat with me while I cook. I’ll put you to work like I used to.”

  “Sounds good.” Zander would rather go work in the kitchen than have the heart-to-heart with his father he’d been putting off for ten years.

  Hannah scurried away. Zander glanced around the yard. “It’s weird to not have Mr. Tyler here.”

  “Yeah. I miss Horace a lot.”

  Even though he’d adored the old man, he couldn’t recall ever hearing his first name. It was always Mr. Tyler.

  “It’s been five years,” his dad said. “Crazy how time flies.”

  “No. I thought it was just a couple years ago.” Zander stopped at the front door and focused on his dad. It was easier than walking through the threshold right now.

  “No, five.”

  Zander had lost out on a lot, drinking his life away. He felt Mr. Tyler’s loss anew being home and not having him here. He slowly digested it. “Was it old age that took him?”

  “Cancer. He was only seventy-two when he passed.”

  Zander nodded. Death was not something he dealt with, at all.

  His father gestured for him to go ahead. Zander took a deep breath. He’d competed in eleven Ironmans over the past two years. He could do this. He could walk into his childhood home. He steeled his spine and took a long stride, hurrying over the step and into the foyer. The paint was lighter, but the chandelier was the same. He couldn’t stop himself from looking around the spacious foyer, up the sweeping staircase, hoping beyond hope that maybe her ghost would at least sweep down and greet him. He closed his eyes and tried to shake some sense into his head.

  His dad grasped his arm. “You okay?” He alone knew what this cost Zander. Everyone but his dad and Hannah had dropped away in his life. He hadn’t realized how alone he was and that he really didn’t want to be alone, until Trin had come into his life. Now she was gone and he wasn’t sure why he thought coming home would be a good idea. The pain of Trin’s loss and the pain of dealing with his mom’s death. He was really glutton for pain today.

  “It’s not as bad as I feared.” The lie was easier than the truth.

  His dad gave him an encouraging smile and led him to the left to the music room, her room. Zander wanted to dig his heels in and throw a childhood fit. He marched stoically next to his dad, trying to lock his heart and avoid the anguish.

  His dad eased the door open and swung it wide. Zander swore he could hear someone plucking at the harp. His mom’s harp. He took a tentative step into the room. Late afternoon sunlight streamed through the floor to ceiling windows. The highly-polished instruments all stood in their appointed spots—piano, organ, harp, and Zander’s old drum set. He turned to his dad and surprised himself by laughing. “You keep my drums in here still?”

  “Remember how you loved to play and accompany her?”

  “She was so patient with me.” Zander pushed a hand through his hair. “I made her music sound horrible and she never once told me no.”

  “She thought you were the greatest person to ever live,” his dad murmured.

  Zander knew it wasn’t an exaggeration. He could never do any wrong in his mother’s eyes. He blinked quickly and looked at the harp. Her favorite instrument. Drawn to it, he found himself walking over and plucking a few strings. The soft sound floated up to him. Zander wrapped his hand around the frame. He didn’t realize he was crying until the tears splattered against the gold paint.

  Sinking into the chair he’d often found his mother in, he took a few quick breaths. He needed to calm down, needed to get in control. His dad bent down and wrapped his arms around him. “Let it out, son. It’s okay. It’s been ten years. I think you deserve to let it go.”

  Zander’s entire body trembled as he released sorrow he’d buried. He stood and turned into his dad’s embrace. “I’m so sorry, Dad,” he sobbed. “I’m sorry I didn’t protect her.”

  His dad pulled back and shook him gently by both shoulders. “Oh, son. It wasn’t your fault. It was mine. I went to that conference instead of being there for both of you. Please, please don’t blame yourself.”

  Zander shook his head and sniffled. “Dad. I was the one that should’ve been there. I went to a bonfire and chased girls then I went drinking with the other football players. You can’t blame yourself.”

  His dad shook his head and gave a strangled laugh. “I thought you blamed me. I thought that’s why you never came home.”

  “Oh, no.” Zander exhaled and almost stopped the torrent of tears. “Dad, I couldn’t come home without her here. It was all my fault. I’d ruined our family and I couldn’t face it.”

  His dad stared at him. “Oh, my boy.” He pulled him against his chest again and his tears wet Zander’s shirt. “It’s time to forgive yourself. I’ve never blamed you. You were a child.” He took a long breath. “Can you please forgive me, son?”

/>   Zander nodded against the soft material of his dad’s cotton shirt. “Yes, Dad. I never blamed you either.”

  His dad wrapped an arm around his shoulder and led him out of the music room. They went across the entryway to his dad’s office and sat side by side in plush chairs. His dad kept a hand on Zander’s arm like he wasn’t ready to disconnect yet.

  “I went to a psychiatrist the year after I lost her,” his dad admitted. “It helped a lot. I still stop by sometimes when the guilt gets to be too much.”

  Zander’s fists clenched. Was his dad going to suggest what everyone did?

  “Would you go visit with her? For me?”

  There it was, and how did you tell the man who gave you everything, and who didn’t blame you for his wife’s death, no. Trin wanted him to go meet with someone. The two people he loved the most thought he needed help. Maybe he did.

  “I’ll try it, Dad.”

  “Thank you.” His dad squeezed his arm. “What else is going on? How’s Trin?”

  Zander looked out the windows at the bare forest. “She’s amazing and hard-working and pretty ticked at me right now.”

  His dad surprised him by releasing his arm and laughing.

  “What?” Zander sat up straighter. His dad’s laughter warmed him, but he was confused by the sudden change.

  “So my plan worked.”

  “What plan?” Zander leaned closer, staring into his dad’s blue eyes. He realized he was looking more like his father every day.

  “You’re a smart boy, Zander. Did you really think I was worried about Trin’s work ethic or the profitability of a small bed and breakfast that has no debt and is almost always booked?”

  “I wondered, but I just did what you asked me to do.”

  “You’ve always done that.”

  Zander studied his dad. “You’ve been pretty understanding, Dad.”