Crazy Love

by Nicola Marsh

  “This is bollocks.”

  He could’ve stood there and argued his point, made her see sense. Instead, he turned on his heel, stalked into the bedroom and slammed the door, wishing he could shut out their painful exchange as easily.

  The woman he loved didn’t trust him and though she had reason to be angry she hadn’t given him a chance to explain.

  He hadn’t lied to her, he just hadn’t told her the whole truth. A lie by omission? Maybe, but he’d wanted to be sure she loved him for who he was, not what he had. He’d almost fallen prey to a single-minded spinster a while back, his first and last foray into dating before Liv.

  The experience had soured his belief in women and when he’d first met Liv he’d been suspicious. For all he knew she could’ve been an excellent actress who’d got the lowdown on his life and made a bee-line for him, hoping to snare his fortune as well as his heart. She might’ve left one billionaire in search of another.

  He’d had to be careful. No use losing his head over the first woman to fall for him in twenty years. But what about his heart?

  He plopped on the bed, kicked off his boots and fell back, hands behind his head.

  So much for the supposed love this town was famous for.

  He’d landed smack bang in the middle of a godforsaken mess.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Cupid’s Dating Tips for the Enlightened Male

  When a woman asks what you’re thinking, don’t tell her the truth: sex or football isn’t a clever answer.

  Flo had slipped out of her fancy suit when Peter Allen started singing his tune.

  “Can’t a woman get a little peace in this town?” she muttered, tying the sash on a purple chenille robe that had seen better days.

  Lordy, if that was Will ringing her bell she was in real trouble. He’d take one look at her and run all the way back to LA.

  She mentally added item thirty-five to her extensive list of new stuff to impress Will if they ever moved past the friend stage: sexy robe.

  Opening the door a fraction in case Will had returned, she breathed a sigh of relief.

  “Oh, it’s you, Liv. Come in.”

  Flo’s relief was short-lived as she glanced at her watch. Nine-thirty was late for a social call and by the stricken look on her friend’s face this impromptu visit had man trouble written all over it.

  When she opened the door wider and saw the suitcase at Liv’s feet, she rolled her eyes. “Not you too.”

  Liv grimaced. “Sorry. I had nowhere else to go. Do you mind if I stay the night?”

  “No worries. Though you better not snore.”

  Liv managed a weak smile as Flo pointed to the first room on the right, a den-cum-spare room, and deposited her suitcase there.

  “Planning on staying a while? Because if you are, there’s always the apartment your son vacated today after trampling on Sierra’s heart.”

  A nasty jibe but she wanted to snap Liv out of her stupor. The woman looked like she’d taken a box of Valium and was drifting along in a daze.

  “Thought something like that must’ve happened.” Liv shook her head, not rising to the bait to defend her son. “He left so suddenly, I knew they must’ve had a row.”

  “You could say that.”

  Flo ushered her into the kitchen and set about making tea. “What’s your story? Hank not living up to expectations in the bedroom?”

  Liv blushed and collapsed into a chair. “This isn’t the time for your teasing.”

  “There’s always time for a laugh,” Flo said, adding boiling water to the teapot and covering it to steep.

  How could a day that had started out so brilliantly in Will’s dashing company end with her playing shrink to her morose friends? Shouldn’t everyone be as happy as her? Usually it was the other way around but this time the bridesmaid had one up on the brides.

  “Do you know about Hank?”

  “Know what? The fact he’s an old reprobate?” Flo snorted. Already warned you about that.”

  Sudden fire replaced the glazed look in Liv’s eyes. “No, the fact he isn’t who he says he is.”

  “Huh?”

  “Hank Warner. Owner of Warner Haulage. Mega rich.”

  Flo’s jaw dropped. It fell open like one of those sideshow clowns at Love Fest before snapping shut.

  “We’re talking about your Hank, right? Must be some mistake. I’ve known him for years and his name is Stevens. As for being mega rich, I think you’re mixing him up with your ex.”

  Sadness warred with fury on Liv’s stricken face. “No mistake. Marc told me before he left.”

  So Liv’s son had screwed up two relationships before he left town. Nice going, kid.

  Flo poured the tea and placed a steaming cup in front of Liv, along with a plate of brownies.

  “The old fool is rich?” Flo sipped her tea and chuckled. “Damn, if I’d known I would’ve taken a shot at him myself years ago.”

  Liv shot her a startled stare before seeking refuge in her cup. “He lied to me.”

  “No, he didn’t tell you the whole truth and I bet there’s a darn good reason for it.”

  “You sound like him.”

  Liv reached for a brownie and took a huge bite, a dead giveaway she was stressed. Liv rarely touched her baking, saying the smell alone added ten pounds to her trim frame.

  At least that was one thing Flo had going for her. Being tall had its advantages, the fat spread evenly over her body to give the illusion she didn’t have any. Until the clothes came off. Then it was blackout time.

  Item thirty-six to add to her impress Will once past the friend stage list: dimmer switch for the lights in her bedroom.

  Flo placed her cup on the table. “Listen up. Hank’s a good man. So he has a secret? It’s not like he has another wife hidden away somewhere or is playing around on you.”

  “How do I know?”

  “Because this is Hank we’re talking about. He’s as honest as the day is long. If no one in this town knows his real identity, there has to be darn good reason why. Maybe you should give him a chance to explain?”

  She’d seen Liv’s stubborn expression before. Marc had the same look when Flo tried quizzing him about Sierra, right before he’d clammed up good and proper.

  “Does Sierra know?”

  Flo shrugged. “No idea. She’s the closest person to him, or was until you arrived on the scene. What’s the difference?”

  “I need to know.”

  “Ah hell,” Flo muttered, getting up from the table and shuffling to the phone. “You women with your broken hearts, you’re all bonkers.”

  A glimmer of an idea took root as she dialed Sierra’s number. Get the two together, give them an unending supply of brownies and who knew what could happen?

  On a chocolate high, they might realize they had two amazing men in their lives and rather than drive them away with their own insecurities, they might put up a fight.

  Nuts, the both of them.

  It didn’t take long to convince Sierra to come over, especially when Flo mumbled something about getting hammered together. Though she did experience a moment’s remorse when she imagined how the young woman would feel when confronted by her one-time potential mother-in-law. What better way to get both of them to face their demons than together?

  She’d had a long day and wanted to get to bed. Let the two sob it out on each other’s shoulders while she drifted off.

  “I hope you’ve got Tequila,” Sierra said, flinging open the back door, slipping her boots off and shrugging out of her jacket. “Because I really want to get smashed…”

  She trailed off as she caught sight of Liv. “Oh, sorry, Olivia.”

  “Sierra.”

  The two stared at each other in awkward silence before Flo waved her in and pulled out a chair. “Here, take a seat. We’re just getting started.”

  “Uh, maybe I’ll come back another time.” Sierra backed up a few steps, fumbling for her jacket.

  “You’re staying.�
�� Flo crossed the kitchen, took hold of Sierra’s arm and almost dragged her to the table.

  “No, I’m not,” Sierra muttered through gritted teeth, trying to yank her arm free.

  “Whatever my son did to hurt you, he’s an absolute idiot,” Liv said, as some of the tension drained out of Sierra’s body. “You’re the best thing that ever happened to him and when I see him I’ll tell him in no uncertain terms.”

  Flo released her grip as Sierra slid into a seat. “Men are pigs. Sorry to say, Olivia, your son included.”

  “I totally agree.”

  Liv nodded emphatically and Sierra’s eyebrows shot up.

  Oh yeah, this was going to work out just fine. Maybe Flo should stay up and watch the fun after all? She hadn’t even brought out the rest of the brownies yet.

  “What’s Hank done?”

  “Everything.” Liv sighed and reached for another brownie. “Did you know his real identity?”

  Sierra stared at Liv like she’d grown another head and Flo breathed a sigh of relief. Looked like old Hank had fooled them all.

  “What are you talking about?”

  Stunned, Liv replaced the brownie on the plate. “I thought he’d confide in you. Guess it makes me feel slightly better.”

  Sierra glanced across at Flo, raised an eyebrow, silently asking her to confirm Liv had gone cuckoo and Flo gave a quick negative shake of her head.

  “Look, Olivia, I know you’ve been under pressure lately. Sounds like you’ve made a mistake. Hank is—”

  “A liar. His real name is Hank Warner and he’s a multi-millionaire. Ever heard of Warner Haulage?”

  Sierra shook her head and Flo took a seat again, eager to hear this. She never would’ve thought Hank had it in him but looked like he had a life nobody knew about. Who ever said things were dull in Love?

  “It’s one of the largest companies in California. I only know about it because I approached them for my last charity function. I was thwarted when some snooty PR manager told me the owner is a recluse and couldn’t be contacted so I backed down and approached the next business on my list.” Liv folded her arms and frowned. “Recluse all right. He’s so reclusive he shuts his fiancée out.”

  “Wow.”

  Sierra nibbled on a brownie while Flo mentally slapped herself for not hounding Hank harder. She could’ve been living on easy street by now, even if she didn’t find him in the least bit attractive.

  Now Will on the other hand…phew, that man made her heart pound, fortune or not.

  “Okay, we’ve established Hank is loaded but too shy to talk about it, and Marc has left town. Why don’t you two stop the pity party and get your acts into gear? These guys are obviously crazy about you, so what are you going to do about it?”

  “Nothing,” Liv and Sierra said in unison, their body language mirroring each other: folded arms, deep frowns and tightly compressed lips.

  A pack of mules had nothing on these two.

  Flo stood, crossed to the sink and rinsed her cup. “Fine. Carry on whining about the men in your life, I’m going to bed. ‘Night.”

  “Thanks for letting me stay, Flo. I appreciate it,” Liv said and she grunted in response.

  If her friends hadn’t sorted out their woes by the morning she’d take matters into her hands, starting with a visit to Hank and a phone call to her previous tenant.

  As Flo headed down the hallway, someone started pounding on her front door and glancing through the window she spied Hank. Good, that saved her a phone call at best, a trip out to the farm tomorrow at worst.

  “Liv, you get the door. I’m going to bed. Sierra, can you help me choose an outfit for tomorrow?”

  “Sure,” Sierra said, grabbing another brownie and biting into it. “Not like I’ve got anything better to do.”

  Flo grabbed Sierra’s arm and dragged her up the stairs as Liv opened the door.

  “Uh-oh,” Sierra whispered.

  Flo would’ve loved to stand at the top of the stairs and eavesdrop but by Hank’s intense frown she decided to leave the two old farts to sort things out in private.

  “Come on. You can let rip about that young man of yours.”

  “I thought you didn’t want to hear any more?”

  “I don’t. I’ve got earplugs in my bedside drawer.”

  Sierra grinned and followed her into the bedroom while Flo sent a silent prayer heavenward for Hank and Liv.

  “What are you doing here?”

  Olivia folded her arms and glared at the man she loved, trying to ignore the flutter of excitement deep in her belly.

  What was wrong with her? How could she get a rush at a time like this? Must be repressed sexuality for the last umpteenth years. Nothing to do with his familiar weatherworn face, the laugh lines imbedded in his tanned skin, the slight bump in his nose she’d traced many times with her fingertip, the clear intent in eyes she’d seen cobalt in laughter, gentian in passion.

  “I’m here to apologize.” Hank swept his Stetson off and cleared his throat. “I made a mistake, a big one, and I’m hoping you’ll hear me out.”

  “Why should I? You lied to me.”

  She didn’t budge an inch, even when he shuffled his feet, begging an invitation inside.

  “I should’ve told you everything right from the start but I wanted to make sure we were the real deal.”

  Smart man. He didn’t contradict her by saying he hadn’t lied or try to sweet talk his way out of the situation by saying he’d omitted the truth. He said what he thought, straight up, one of the many things she loved about him.

  A love he’d threatened with his lies, a love she now doubted because of it, drat the man.

  He stood in front of her like a wounded puppy, wary eyes, down turned mouth, and despite every self-preservation mechanism screaming to tread carefully she had to give him a chance to explain. After all they’d shared, she owed him that much.

  Taking her silence as acquiesce, he shifted his hat to the other hand. “I love you, Liv. You’re everything to me. When you first came here I couldn’t believe someone like you would be interested in an old fella like me. I wanted to make sure you loved me for me, wanted to marry me for me, not my money.”

  She laughed, despite the seriousness of the situation. Marc had rushed into town in a panic, convinced Hank was after her money when all along Hank had it twisted the other way around?

  “I don’t know what to think.”

  “Then don’t.” Flinging his hat away, he crossed the threshold, a determined man who wouldn’t take no for an answer.

  “Don’t you dare—”

  “Do this?”

  His calloused hands cupped her face, his forehead resting on hers, his lips a tantalizing few inches from hers.

  “I let you down, Liv, I get it. Never again.”

  Her heart clenched in fear, in hope.

  “I’m scared,” she said, desperate to close those few inches and touch her lips to his, petrified there’d be no turning back once she did.

  “I know, love. That makes two of us.”

  His breath fanned her lips, making them tingle with need and her soft, resigned sigh was all the encouragement he needed to ease forward, his mouth touching hers in a butterfly kiss, a barely-there glide of his lips across hers, teasing her to want more, taunting her to want it all.

  Her lips clung to his, needy, hopeful, and when he didn’t deepen the kiss, didn’t push, her heart fractured.

  He was giving her the power to make or break them. Not bullying, not demanding, not pushing.

  A noble man, like she’d always known. What was she going to do about it? Wasn’t like she’d never taken a risk before. She’d had the sense to divorce George and follow her heart to this town, this man.

  She’d followed her heart.

  The words resounded and as Hank released her face and stepped back with a half-expectant, half-fearful expression, she knew what she had to do.

  “You love me?”

  He nodded, the wariness clou
ding his eyes fading. “Sure do.”

  “Full disclosure from now on?”

  His eyes crinkled in delight, his smile triumphant. “Full disclosure, right down to the last penny I earn.”

  “Still want to marry me?”

  His smile widened as he held his arms open. “Sure do.”

  “In that case, what are we waiting for? Let’s go home.”

  As Liv slid into his welcoming arms, she knew she’d already arrived.

  Marc slammed down the phone, cursing his PA. He hated ineptitude and though the woman had the capacity to juggle ten things at once most days it looked like today wasn’t one of them.

  Nothing had been the same since he’d returned to A-Corp two weeks ago. Though Rob’s departure had breathed new life into the place and his staff showed renewed enthusiasm, he hadn’t slotted into the routine as easily as expected.

  Sure, business was booming and the Tech file had finally gone through after many late nights and tension-fraught meetings to find a company to replace Love Byte on the hit list, but securing the number one spot in the state hadn’t lived up to expectations.

  Seeing George squirm when questioned by the media on losing top spot to his son had been a watershed moment but once the news had sunk in he’d achieved his goal, it didn’t seem important any more.

  A month ago, beating the bastard had been his primary focus and now he’d achieved his goal, what next? Acquire a few more companies? Make a few more million?

  Then why the relentless emptiness, like he’d lost something valuable and had no idea how to recover it?

  Since he’d left that kooky town his life was one giant hole, like a vital part of him had been ripped. He could’ve put it down to any number of things: spending time with his mom, laughing with Flo, even sharing a cognac or two with Hank. But he wasn’t a complete idiot.

  He missed Sierra more than he could’ve ever dreamed possible, a constant ache gnawing at his heart.

  It could only mean one thing.

  He’d succumbed.

  Gone the whole way.

  Done the unthinkable.