Imperfectly Delicious (Imperfect Series #6) - Mary Frame Page 0,76

It rang, but he didn’t answer.” I put on the turn signal to head north from Main Street in the heart of Blue Falls. We’ll be back at the ranch within ten minutes.

“He’s probably busy with his sisters.”

I appreciate that she’s trying to make me feel better, but it’s not working.

“Maybe.”

Or maybe he’s avoiding you, the insidious little voice whispers inside me. Why did I let everything get to me? Why did I run, again? I’ve been making one-sided bargains to the universe all morning that I won’t run anymore, if only I can get back to New York and track Guy down.

The airport was a nightmare. Packed with travelers. We got stuck in line at security while someone coughed behind us like they were carrying the plague, and even after all that our flight was cancelled due to a blizzard in the city.

At least I’ll get to spend more time with my family. The only bright spot in this terrible week.

We rumble down the long driveway and as the house comes into view, so does an unfamiliar car out front.

“Who’s that?” Fred asks.

“I have no idea.” I don’t recognize the black town car.

Before we’ve even come to a full stop, a tall figure emerges from the front door and jogs down the steps.

“Is that—?”

Fred hasn’t even finished her sentence and I’ve fumbled out of my seat belt and leapt out of the car like it’s on fire.

I only make it two steps, and then he’s there, showing no signs of slowing.

“What are you—?”

His arms surround me, strong bands of comfort, and his mouth crashes down on mine.

I’m not complaining. I kiss him back, wrapping my arms around his waist, pressing my body to his. A mixture of emotions swirls like soup in the pot of my body: shock that he’s here, joy, relief, undying gratitude. It’s really him. He’s really here and he’s really kissing me. I don’t want to let him go, afraid if I do, he’ll disappear, and this will all be some kind of surreal dream.

Some time passes before he pulls back and then rests his forehead against mine.

“Hi,” he says between breaths.

“Hi.”

He swallows. “I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry. I should have listened to you. I overreacted, and then I panicked, and I ruined everything.”

“No. I shouldn’t have been dismissive of you, even if it was just to get Oliver off my back.”

“No, I should have—”

“We get it,” Fred calls out, walking in a wide circle around us to reach the house. “You’re both morons.”

Granny is on the porch and she ushers Fred inside. “I’m glad you’re here. I need your help . . .”

They disappear and then it’s only the two of us out in the chilled December air.

“How did you get here?” I ask him.

“Oliver’s private plane.”

My eyes widen. “Seriously?”

“Yeah. I sort of threatened to quit the restaurant project.”

Astonishment has me jerking back to back to stare up into his face. “Seriously? You shouldn’t have done that for me.”

He rubs his hands up and down my arms. “It wasn’t entirely for you. You were the impetus that made me realize it wouldn’t work with Oliver. Not if it continued like it was. Oliver was using his financial backing as a means to make him the dictator of our business decisions. And I was letting him. If I hadn’t stood my ground, the relationship would have become toxic and it wouldn’t have worked out, anyway. Really, you saved me from making a terrible decision.”

“Wow. But after that, he let you use his plane?”

He smiles, the dimple in his cheek making an appearance. “He came with me. And he agreed to leave a portion of the real estate to Crawford and Company so your deal with them can continue and you won’t feel beholden to me or Oliver for renting it.”

“That’s amazing.” I can’t believe he did it. He really did it, just like he promised. I should have trusted him all along.

“There’s more.” His eyes move from mine, one hand coming up to rub a strand of my hair between his fingers. “We’re going to rent out the other portion of the lot, on a rotational basis. We already planned to have guest chef nights at both restaurants, and this way we can have a variety of options for outdoor venues, too. I want your help with that part, though.”

“You do?”

“Maybe you could help me vet some of the trucks?”

My mouth is hanging open. I snap it shut. “Of course.”

His shoulders drop, sudden tension releasing from

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