Daddy's Christmas Date
Page 43
“Don’t I?” I stood over her, looking down at that shocked face. “Maybe I know more than you think. About how he cheated on you. About how he could never satisfy you. About how you begged him to do things to you, things that you always dreamt of. I made a list.”
She stood up, facing me. “How do you know that he never satisfied me?” There was a dangerous glint in her eyes.
I had gone too far, I knew, but I couldn’t stop. “I read them,” I said. “All your emails to him, about how lonely you were, about what you wanted.”
If she was pale before, her face was deathly white now. “Hang on a minute,” she whispered. “You read my private emails to Jack?”
“Yes,” I said. “I know everything about your supposed perfect relationship with him.”
She looked like she was churning things over in her mind, and not liking what she was coming up with. “So, that’s what this has been about,” she said, slowly. “The camping under the stars. The dinner at a fancy restaurant. Sex in an elevator. You read that I wanted to do all those things with Jack. And what – you decided to stroll on in yourself and provide them?”
She laughed, suddenly, throwing her head back. “Well, I should thank you, shouldn’t I? Poor little Gemma, desperate for a bit, which she couldn’t get from her boyfriend. Good old Lance Starling will stroll in and save the day!”
“Gemma, it wasn’t like that…”
“Wasn’t it?” The look she threw me was the dirtiest I had ever seen. “You are unbelievable, Lance! Not only do you violate my privacy, you think you are my saviour. But what was the real reason you did it, Lance? Have you admitted that to yourself yet?”
“Gemma, please…”
“I’ll tell you.” She came up to me so that our faces were inches apart. “Because you wanted to best Jack. Because it’s always been about the competition between the two of you. Jack can’t satisfy his old lady, well, watch out! Here comes Lance to show how it’s done, the knight in shining armour.”
“No.” I shook my head. “That’s not the reason!”
“I don’t want to hear anymore, Lance. You’ve insulted me enough, I think. I want you to leave, now. Get your clothes on and walk out that door.” She turned and marched into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.
I got dressed. How on earth had I managed to fuck things up so badly?
Gemma
I packed my bags slowly, every movement like I was treading painfully through water.
He had left, eventually. I had locked the bathroom door, and he had pleaded with me on the other side of it for a while. But eventually I heard the front door to the quarters open and close. I still gave it a few good minutes before I came out.
Yes, he was gone. I collapsed on the bed, sobbing like my heart would break.
Well, it had, hadn’t it? Broken into a million pieces. It was lying shattered on the floor.
I still couldn’t believe it. That he had admitted so flippantly that he had read my private emails to Jack. He wasn’t sorry for it. Oh, no.
The fact that he had then decided to ‘satisfy’ my desires, because poor old Jack never could. The arrogance of the man. The unbelievable arrogance.
It didn’t matter. It proved what I had suspected, all along. This hadn’t been about any finer feelings, or even a genuine attraction. It had been all about besting Jack.
As it had been forever.
Hell, I could remember when Lance won a sprint in elementary school, beating Jack by a nose. Jack had protested, and the two of them had wrestled for supremacy. The teacher had to separate them. Lance had a bloody nose and Jack had a lump on his head.
But I was not a trophy to be won. I wouldn’t be polished and displayed on his mantelpiece, proving to the world he had bested Jack O’Grady, for the last time.
My face burned at the thought of what Lance had read. It had been private, and he had just waltzed on into our conversations like he had every right in the world. This had been a mistake. I should never have let myself sleep with him, my intuition had been spot on, as usual.
I kept packing. There was no way I could stay here, now. I would go to my parents in Clear Creek, for the moment. They would be surprised, but they were supportive of me. They wouldn’t press me for details, they respected my privacy. Unlike some people.
I zipped my suitcase. It was a funny old world. I had just unpacked it after getting back from New York, after having the best weekend of my life. After admitting to myself I loved Lance. It seemed like a million years ago, now.
I sobbed, quietly. Tears were good, I told myself. It was all for the best, anyway. It’s just as well I found out, now. Before I went any deeper.
Before I admitted my love to him.
I walked the streets of Clear Creek alone, lost in thought.
I should have brought a jacket. It seemed that the zenith of summer had finally been reached, and now the days were cooling off. It didn’t matter. My heart was so sore and sick I could probably have walked through a blizzard and not felt it.
My parents had welcomed me with open arms, as they always did. All I had said was that things hadn’t worked out at Starling Ridge, and that I needed a place to stay while thinking about what next to do with my life. They had accepted it. What choice did they have?
I walked down the main street, nodding to people I knew. But I didn’t stop. I didn’t want to get embroiled in conversations.
That was both the beauty, and the curse, of living in a small town. When things were going well, it was wonderful having people around who knew you and could share your joy. When things weren’t going so well, it seemed like those same people were your judge and jury. Assessing your life from up high, ranking you on a score card. High school graduation: tick. Successful career: tick. Husband and two- point- five kids: tick. Or no ticks, in my case. Just fat red crosses.
I looked up, drawn as if by a magnet across the street. I didn’t want to look. It was still raw. But my head turned, all the same. My bakery. There was a dusty ‘for lease’ sign in the window, lopsided and falling.
I remembered my excitement when I had signed the lease for the shop. I had whizzed around that little space, dusting and sweeping like Cinderella about to go to the ball. I had painted the walls with care, and chosen all my equipment with love. I had tested and re-tested my recipes, until I was sure they were perfect.
And it had all turned to shit, like everything.
I kept walking. I had no desire to peer through the window and see my younger self in there, unaware of what the future held.
The main street ended and I turned randomly, just walking. One foot in front of the other. Destination unknown.
Or was it? For next time I looked up, there it was. Clear Creek High. It was obviously recess. Students lolled around the yard, hanging in packs, the way that all teenagers do. The way that Jack, Lance and I had.
Stop it, I told myself. Don’t go there.
But I already had. My feet had carried me here without my head even knowing. I tried to remember what it had felt like. Being me, so young, so in love.
But who had I been in love with – Jack, or Lance?
I had told myself for years that it was Jack. Jack had swooped in and claimed me like a knight in shining armour, sweeping me off my feet and riding off with me into the sunset. Except he hadn’t.
I had waited for that sunset to materialise, but it had never come. And his armour was growing mighty rusty by that stage, too.
Lance. He had always been there. We were like the three musketeers, charging at life like bulls in a rodeo. I had thought that Lance was riding alongside me, but had he always been the one who was taking the lead?
I shook my head, not knowing anymore. It didn’t matter, anyway. None of it mattered. Jack was dead. Lance had betrayed me, both of us, really. And I was alone, as always.
I shivered. I really should have brought a jacket.
Our ghosts wandered the hallways of that school, blind to what life was going to
bring us. Oblivious to our fates.
I was sick of this trip down memory lane. Time to look to the future. Resolutely, I kept walking.
I would not come here again.
Lance
She had disappeared.
No one knew where she was. Jessie was confused, but stepped up, getting the breakfast made and the men fed for the day. They were bewildered, too, and kept asking was Gemma alright? Had she had bad news, or suddenly fallen ill?
I was tight lipped, saying she had to leave for personal reasons. And vague about when she would return. Inside, I was a mess. I couldn’t believe how royally I had fucked up the night before.
Where was she? I should have known she would do this. Gemma was a passionate woman, in every aspect of her life. If something was wrong, she acted quickly. She didn’t sit around and ponder what was the best course of action.
My love. I had let her slip through my fingers. How could I have done that?
I walked restlessly around the cook’s quarters, seeing the haste of her departure everywhere. Items forgotten. The bed left unmade, from our lovemaking the night before.
That stopped me in my tracks.
Had it been our lovemaking? Or had I simply taken her, not caring what she was thinking or feeling. Selfishly, in the desire to claim her, to make her mine. Treating her like an object, rather than the flesh and blood woman that she was. I slowly sat on the bed, my mind in turmoil.
Everything she had said last night was right. I had behaved like an asshole.
Violating her privacy. Treating her like she was a project, to fix. Crowing to myself every time I crossed another thing off that stupid goddamn list. What had I been thinking? Had I done it just to best Jack, like she said?
I shook my head. No. In that she was wrong. There may have been an element of truth to it, but it was bigger than that. Way bigger.
It was because I had loved her forever, and had let her go. I had been too much of a damn coward to stand up and fight for her back when Jack was claiming her. And then I had thought it was all too late. I had been a coward this time around, as well. Concocting a stupid list of her wants and desires as a way back to her. When I should have just come out and told her what she meant to me.
That she was the love of my life.
That I wanted to marry her. Live on the ranch with her by my side, forever.
Was it too late? Was it past the point of no return for us? I stood up. Not if I could help it.
Yes, I had fucked up. But she was worth fighting for. Shit, I had been in war zones. Completed dangerous missions, where my life had been on the line. Been so weary I could have died a thousand times over. I was known for my bravery. It was time to take that strength and fight again. She was worth it. She had always been worth it.
Be a man, I told myself. She deserves no less.
She had gone back to her parents.
I parked the car on the curb across the street from the house, reminiscing about how many times I had been here as a teenager. Playing third wheel to her and Jack.
Not anymore, I vowed. I took a deep breath. It was now or never.
I knocked on the door. It seemed an eternity before I heard footsteps approaching.
Mrs Fox opened the door, a look of surprise flitting across her face.
“Why, Lance,” she exclaimed. “It has been so long!”
“It has, ma’am,” I nodded. “Too long! I should have come and visited before now.”
Mrs Fox smiled. “We know you are a busy man, Lance. We never expected you to go out of your way to see us.”
I looked at her. She was a good woman, and her husband, Gemma’s father, was a good man. They had raised Gemma to be the wonderful person she was. I had a great respect for them both. Always had.
“Is Gemma here?” No point beating around the bush.
Mrs Fox nodded. “Sure is,” she said, standing to one side and gesturing for me to enter. “Come on through.”
The living room was exactly as I remembered it, down to the old TV blaring in the corner and the shag pile rug on the floor.
She was sitting at the table, writing in a notebook. She looked up when she heard us come in. Her mouth dropped open.
“Would you two like some chocolate chip cookies I made this morning?” Mrs Fox asked, looking from me to Gemma.
I almost laughed. It was exactly what she used to ask every time I came here as a youngster. But I didn’t think chocolate chip cookies could fix this situation.
“No thanks, Mom,” Gemma quickly answered. “I might just take Lance out the back. Show him your garden.”
“As you wish, dear.” Mrs Fox took the hint, and walked away.
I looked at Gemma. It was like I hadn’t seen her in years, rather than two days ago.
I was struck by her beauty all over again. God, but she was the most beautiful woman who walked this earth. She stood up, gesturing to me to follow her.
We stood in the garden. hen Gemma turned to me. “Why are you here, Lance?” She appraised me slowly.
It was now or never. I had to dig deep, find that courage. She was worth it.
“Gemma, I’m a goddamn fool,” I said. “I fucked up. I’m so sorry.”
“You did fuck up,” she agreed. “How could you violate my privacy like you did?”
I hung my head. I deserved that.
“I don’t know what I was thinking,” I answered eventually. “I was looking for something else, to begin with. And then when I saw your messages, it was like something just came over me. I wanted to know everything about you. That’s why I made the list.” She went to talk, but I cut her off. “No, let me finish,” I said. “I know it was wrong. I don’t have any defence. I was a damn coward, thinking it was my only way back to you. That I could impress you, somehow, with a knowledge of what you wanted.” I turned to her, taking a deep breath. “I love you, Gemma Fox. I’ve loved you forever.”
She gasped. “You love me?”
I nodded slowly. “I love you so much it hurts. I should have told you before now. I was a fool.”
She was looking up at me with eyes swimming with tears.
“Lance,” she whispered. “I love you, too.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “You love me? You aren’t in love with Jack anymore?”
She shook her head. “I’m sorry I led you to believe that. The truth is, I got over Jack a long time ago. Yes, it hurt like hell when I heard that he died. We had shared a lot of our lives, and I still cared for him.” She stopped, looking at me. “But I hadn’t been in love with him for a long, long time.”
I walked up to her as if in a dream, taking her in my arms. She didn’t resist. I kissed her, long and slow and sweet. It was the sweetest kiss of my life. She looked up at me, those huge green eyes raking over my face.
“I’m still as mad as hell at you,” she said. “You are going to have to make it up to me.”
“Anything,” I vowed. “I’ll do anything to make it up to you. Just tell me that we have a future together. I want you to be my wife, Gemma Fox. I want you by my side forever.”
Her eyes widened. “Was that a proposal?”
“Well, yes,” I said. I got down on one knee, taking her hand. “Will you marry me, Gemma?” I didn’t have a ring. It wasn’t how I had planned it.
But it was perfect. Gemma, as I had always known her, in her parents’ yard. Those golden curls whipping around her face.
“Yes,” she whispered. “Yes, yes, yes.”
I let out a whoop, grabbing her and twirling her around.
She laughed, tossing her head back so the curls fell down her back.
“So,” she said. Her eyes were shining. “This list. What else is on it?”
I grinned. “A whole lot more. I reckon we could keep adding to it for the rest of our lives.” It was true.
I wanted nothing more, but to keep discovering her, peeling back the layers of this amazing woman.
THE END
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Texan Tycoon’s Bride
Chapter 1
Hunter stood at the window overlooking the city and rubbed his hands frustratedly over his face before turning to face the members of the board.
“So the Johnsons will not sell the Old Stone Ranch to a detached, uncommitted man, simply because of their moral standpoint on family values?” he said incredulously.
“It looks like it,” Adam said as he shoved the proposal towards Hunter, “Mr. Johnson insists on selling it to someone who has a strong sense of commitment.”
Hunter scanned over the proposal and tapped his index finger metrically on the desk. If he was going to secure this deal he was going to have to play the game according to Gregory Johnson’s rules. Old Stone has long since been one of Stanton and Son’s greatest competitors and if they can manage to buy the ranch, it means that they will be one of the largest beef exporters in Texas.
“Give us a minute,” he said addressing the other members of the board, and gestured for Adam, his curator, to stay behind.
Once the door closed behind the last board member, Hunter leaned forward pressing his hands firmly on the desk.
“So this is what’s going to happen, you are going to find a woman preferably one with a child who I will marry, then seal the deal and once we have secured Old Stone, she can go on her merry way with a good paycheck to cover her expenses and we’ll have what we want,” he said confidently.
Adam gaped at him and then shook his head, and stood up dragging a hand through his hair, “Where the hell will you find a woman who would settle for that? It’s far too risky.”
“It’s a risk I’m willing to take,” Hunter stated determinedly, pinching the bridge of his nose; right now he was willing to risk paying a willing woman to pretend to be his wife. The problem was finding such a woman, one who would be willing to play the dutiful wife for at least four months.