“Good.” He kissed her, and her tongue slid against his with light feathery strokes.
He was out of dates.
One plan remained.
Tonight. Tonight he would love her—and hope that tomorrow it would be enough.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Nikki tried to focus on his kiss, on the way his hands moved across her skin. She closed her eyes, feeling his hot breath on her neck as his kisses turned more aggressive, only to soften when he changed angles.
Brant had this magical way of always knowing exactly what type of kisses she needed, how to set her body on fire and make her breathless for him.
And tomorrow meant the dates were done.
Where would they go from here? How would they proceed?
But what if this really was good-bye?
Brant’s lean muscles flexed beneath her touch as his firm lips pressed against her stomach, lower, and lower, until he slid down the remainder of her clothes and mapped her body with the trail of his tongue. Her head twisted frantically as his tongue explored her center, only to retreat and then return again, as if he were trying to memorize every single, private inch of her. His lips pressed and sucked her fevered skin until she was ready to lose her mind. Longing surged through her as she gripped his head and moaned.
“Have to be inside you. Have to feel you.” He rumbled against her thigh before she tugged his head toward hers. Their lips met with a slam, a lick, another aggressive kiss that had her body coming off the bed in an effort to get closer.
She moved her hips against him as pleasure ricocheted down her body. Reckless. She felt reckless in his arms. Beautiful. Wanted.
She didn’t need her eyes to see his beauty—she felt it in the way he loved her, in the way he touched her. His hands ran down her body with reverence, and his mouth slowly drank her in like he wanted to take his time. His tongue dipped into her mouth as he thrust inside her, filling her all the way and making her body tremble as he throbbed inside her. His tongue skimmed her lips as he withdrew and slid home again.
Home.
Home.
He was her home.
Longing for him, for what they’d had, hit her so hard it stole her breath away. Him, she just wanted him. He moved his mouth across her breasts, sucking, kissing, moving against her, destroying her for any other man, any other future.
When he surged forward again, her hips bucked beneath the pressure as a sharp cry escaped her lips. “I love you.”
“I never stopped”—his lips dipped to hers again—“loving you, Nik.”
“Is it enough?” She didn’t mean to ask it aloud, didn’t mean to shatter the moment, but he kept moving, kept kissing, kept loving her.
When she felt him tense, when her body couldn’t take any more, he whispered, “It has to be, now let go.”
“I can’t.” Tears filled her eyes. “That means our last date is over. It means facing an unknown. I can’t.”
Brant cupped her cheeks, kissing her tears, slowing his movements, deepening his thrusts. “You can. You will.”
“Stay with me,” she begged.
“I might have walked away, Nik.” He pressed a hand to her heart. “But I never left.”
She cried out as the tension built and then exploded around them. Tremors wracked her body as he kept kissing her cheeks, her tears, and then, finally her mouth.
Please, God, don’t let this be the end.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Brant woke up to his cell vibrating near his ear. With a grunt, he grabbed for it five, six times before finally swiping the right way and answering. “What?”
“You forgot to set your alarm.”
He bolted out of bed. “Shit!”
“Relax.” Bentley yawned loudly on the other end. “Brock and I took care of the details, the girls helped, and I think we’re all on track. Damn, you’re lucky to have us.”
Brant sighed in relief and glanced down at a sleeping Nik. “Thanks, man. I’ll be down as fast as I can. Will you do me a favor and grab my suitcase?”
“Sure thing.”
“See you in a few.”
“Yup.”
Brant threw on his clothes, barely remembered to brush his teeth, grabbed his wallet and everything else he needed, and then went over to the bed and brushed a kiss across Nikki’s forehead. “I’ll always love you. Never forget that.”
He left as quietly as he could. The minute the elevator doors closed, he grinned and then felt like throwing up.
It was time.
Yeah, throwing up was probably on the to-do list for the day.
* * *
He left.
She heard the tail end of his conversation. Get his suitcase? Was he in that much of a hurry that he couldn’t even grab his own stuff? Rejection made her so numb she wasn’t sure if she should laugh or just have a good cry and then rip the pillows to shreds.
He left. Again.
She could probably manage to get dressed on her own—there was a reason she liked wearing black; it always matched—but the point was, she thought he’d wake up slowly, offer her breakfast, and then they’d have the talk, decide how they were going to move forward, if they were going to move forward. Not this.
Emptiness.
A knock sounded at the door.
She nearly fell out of the bed.
The knock got louder.
It was followed by a series of hushed voices, two more knocks, and then finally, “Open the hell up!”
She jumped out of bed and wrapped the sheet around her body, feeling the walls as she made her way to the door and pulled it open.
“Bastard refused to give us the keys to this part of the suite!” Nadine said in her loud shrill. “I mean, doesn’t he trust us at all?”
“No?” Sarcasm dripped from Jane’s voice. “I wonder why.”
“Aw, just look at you.” Nadine sighed. “All rosy cheeked and exhausted from last night’s sexual encounter. Oh, honey, you sit down and tell me all about it. Those Wellington men can be quite the stallions in the bedroom.”
Nikki’s smile felt hollow, sad. She didn’t want to talk about Brant. About the sex. About the sorrow of waking up this morning and finding him gone.
“Are you here for his suitcase?” She tried to keep her voice even, her body from slumping, her hopes from shattering on the ground in front of them.
“Nope.” Margot snapped the word. “Actually, we’re here to kidnap you.”
“Huh?” Kidnap? What were they talking about?
“Oh yes!” Nadine shouted unnecessarily. She was right in front of Nikki’s face, making her dizzy with constant hand movements and a little nauseated from the strong perfume that was her trademark scent. “Jane, grab the dark jeans, oh, the shirt will look just lovely with that!” Shirt? What shirt? Her black shirt?
Before she could protest, the sheet was getting wrangled from her hand.
“Just—” Nadine jerked harder. “Let us help you get dressed!”
“I’m completely naked!”
“You can’t see your own nakedness. Therefore, you can’t be embarrassed!” Nadine said with one final heave; was she on steroids or something?
Cold air slammed into her body, and with a shiver, Nikki covered up as best she could.
“Ladies, we need the set.”
“The set?” Nikki repeated. “What set?”
“Here you go!” The sound of tags ripping hit the air, and then she was getting a lacy strapless bra fastened around her body while simultaneously getting ordered to step into soft panties that fit her like a glove.
“Her ass looks amazing.” Margot sighed.
“It better,” Nadine said. “They’re from France.”
“My ass is from France?” Nikki wondered aloud.
“No dear, the lingerie set.” She snapped her fingers. “Jane, grab the shirt, there we go now. Nikki, just lift your arms up over your head like a good girl.”
What the heck was happening?
Why
were they dressing her?
Furthermore, why was she letting them?
A soft cotton shirt was pulled over her head. She felt the front of it, pressing her hands down her breasts. It felt plain like most of her clothes, except for some weird writing that felt a lot like Braille.
She started to trace only to get her hands slapped away. “Feel yourself up on your own time,” Nadine ordered. “Now, the shoes. Jane do you have the shoes, dear?”
“Yup!” Jane must have hoisted the shoes in the air, because another colored blur danced in front of Nikki’s eyes, and then she was getting ushered into the bathroom to brush her teeth and wash her face.
Her arm nearly came out of its socket when Nadine pulled her into her embrace and very aggressively walked her out the door and onto the elevator.
Cheerful music greeted them.
A nervous energy buzzed among the three of them, and Nikki still had no idea what was happening.
Before she could protest, the elevator doors opened and she was taken through the lobby and into the spa.
Were they escorting her to work? What a complete and total letdown.
She didn’t know what time it was, but by the smell of breakfast in the air as they passed the lobby it had to be before ten, since Azul stopped serving breakfast then.
“Yay!” Annie’s voice sounded, and then clapping. Lots of clapping. “You’re here!”
“At work,” Nikki added. “What, I’m guessing an hour and a half early?”
“Work.” Annie snorted. “The only person working today is Carol!”
“Here!” Carol shouted. “Oh, that shirt is just perfect!”
“What does it say?”
“Nice try.” Nadine elbowed her. “We’re here for our appointments.”
Ugh. They really were going to torture her and make her do a spa day at her own workplace. Not that she wasn’t thankful, but why couldn’t they just let her suffer in silence? Cry in the shower so nobody could see the tears or her swollen face?
“Ladies!” Carol cleared her throat. “We have to stick to the schedule. Nikki will get her makeup done last just in case.”
“Just in case what?” Nikki blurted.
“And then,” Carol continued, ignoring her, “everything should be ready to go! If you have questions, Annie has extra copies of the itinerary, or you can always grab Cole.”
“Cole? What does Cole have to do with getting my makeup done?”
Carol went on, “And do not let anyone in, got that, Annie? Nobody!”
Nikki could almost hear Annie rolling her eyes. “Carol, I’m a pro,” Annie said. “I got this, plus Cole promised he would take off his shirt for thirty seconds if I don’t mess up. I went and bought pepper spray, tear gas, and a pair of nunchucks just in case a fight breaks out. Those thirty seconds are mine.”
“Oh, honey.” Nadine sighed. “We need to find you a man.”
“Eh, thirty seconds with Cole should last me at least a year’s worth of fantasies. One time I had a dream he got attacked by wild dogs and came to work with shredded clothes.” She sighed. “It was the best Monday ever.”
“Annie!” Carol clapped her hands. “Focus, woman! Operation—” Silence. “Never mind, get it done!”
What the heck was going on?
Blurs moved in front of Nikki and then she was getting tugged into the familiar feel of the salon.
“If you cry,” Carol said in a way-too-cheerful voice, “I’m going to slap you, okay?”
“Okay.”
“I can’t make everything waterproof, though God knows I try.”
“Right.” Nikki was pushed into a seat.
“Now. Let me work my magic.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
Brant stared at himself in the mirror, hands shaking as he tried to do his tie one more time, only to fail and nearly ram his fist into the mirror. Only he wasn’t angry—he was about to lay all his cards out on the table, and he was terrified that Nikki would walk away because she didn’t trust him.
With a deep breath, he grabbed his tie again.
“You’re going to mess it up more than you already have” came Cole’s voice, followed by his reflection in the mirror behind Brant. “Let me do it.”
Brant smirked. “Admit it, you just want to strangle me with it.”
“Hah.” Cole was already dressed and ready to go. His three-piece suit made him look like he fit in more with the Wellington family than with the hotel staff. “The idea does have merit. Maybe I’ll daydream about it later.” In less than thirty seconds, Brant’s tie was perfect and he was staring at himself in the mirror with wide eyes.
“What if she says no?” he whispered.
Cole slapped a hand on Brant’s shoulder. “You don’t let a woman like Nikki walk away from you. You walked away once, and I’ll kick your ass if you let her do the same thing to you.”
“Detailed and terrifying pep talk, Cole, thanks. You really suck as maid of honor.”
Cole’s eyes narrowed. “You know she wouldn’t want it any other way. Besides, it’s not like I’m wearing a dress.”
Brock and Bentley walked into the hotel room followed by Grandfather, all of them in matching suits.
They were ready.
It was happening.
Really happening.
He had put a plan into action less than twelve hours ago. Never let it be said that money doesn’t buy you just about anything. When Brant called his grandfather to let him know his plan, not only did his grandfather readily agree with it, but he cursed Brant to hell for making him losing a bet.
Another bet.
Seriously? Was that all his family did these days? Wager against him?
His grandfather refused to give him any details. All he knew was that Nadine bet that Brant, once he stopped being a jackass (her words, not his) would want to marry Nikki and do more than propose within the week.
His grandfather had bet that Brant would sleep with her and then run away with his tail between his legs.
Brant shook his head. Good to know that his own flesh and blood had that much confidence in him. Then again, Brant hadn’t been doing much of anything in the past four years except fucking his way through life and drinking anything that would make him feel numb.
“It’s time.” Grandfather checked his watch.
Cole held up his cell. “Let me text Annie and see where the girls are with their appointments.” He walked to the corner of the room.
Grandfather picked up a folder off the table and handed it over to Brant. “Here’s the paperwork from the divorce.”
“Shit.” Brant was already starting to sweat.
He didn’t want to take them.
He had no choice but to take them.
They were just papers, papers with black ink, papers with black ink that either decided his future or brought closure to his past.
“Son.” Grandfather grabbed Brant’s hand and closed his fingertips over the manila folder. “You’re giving her the choice she never had. The best gift you can give isn’t just your love—but the promise that regardless of what she chooses, you will never stop that love from overflowing from you and into her life, wherever she may choose to live it.”
“And if it’s not with me?” He hated asking it out loud, he hated the way he felt when those words left his lips, empty, hollow, meaningless.
The room fell silent.
“Then you have us.” Brock took a step forward and put a hand on his shoulder, followed by Bentley, and then Cole—the bastard grinned up from his phone and shrugged, as if to say, Yeah, you have me, too.
It was the first time in Brant’s life he felt like he actually belonged with his family, actually had a place. Nikki had been part of his identity, and when that was ripped away from him, he’d pushed his family away, too.
And yet they’d stood by him this entire time. Especially Bentley.
Brant rolled his eyes, then grinned down at the floor so they wouldn’t see the emotion on his face.
“All right. Let’s go.”
Grandfather stopped Brant. “Before you go…I have an idea.”
* * *
Maybe a spa day wasn’t so bad. Nikki’s hands had both been massaged with the best-smelling lavender lotion, followed by her feet and calves. Her hair was brushed—which any woman knew could be so hypnotic that you wanted to fall asleep.
Makeup was last.
But even the makeup smelled good. Like brown sugar, as the brushes slid across her face.
And then, lipstick. It felt red. She had no idea how it felt red—it just did.
“All done.” Carol’s voice sounded different, more reserved, than it had when she first sat in the makeup chair.
Panicked, Nikki wished she could see herself, just once, just to know if she looked as pretty as she felt. Then again, maybe it was easier if she didn’t know. It meant her confidence had to come from some other place, a place that wouldn’t fade with age or get broken down by people’s stares.
“Do I look okay?” she asked, careful not to touch her face, not after her hands had been slapped away numerous times by Carol, and then again by Nadine when she’d checked in on their progress. It wasn’t her fault she was used to feeling everything in order to imagine what things looked like!
“You look”—Carol sucked in a sharp breath—“like Snow White.”
Nikki grinned wide. “She was always my favorite, you know, minus the whole living with a whole bunch of single, messy men.”
Carol snorted. “Okay, let’s get you to the Zen room.”
“The Zen room?” She frowned. “Why would I be going to the Zen room after getting all of this work done?”
“Stop asking questions.” Carol helped her stand and then walked with her arm in arm.
“Where is everyone?”
“What did I say about questions?” Carol reminded her.
“Geez, you and Nadine Titus could be related.”
Carol chuckled and then said, “She’s my great-aunt.”
“I hate how that makes sense.”
“Annie’s a distant cousin, not blood related.”