Merger to Marriage (Boardrooms and Billi - By Addison Fox Page 0,42
she knew she’d never been anywhere close to what was between them. Had never known anything like this.
“I can hear you thinking.” Holt tickled her ribs lightly before opening his eyes on a smile. “How can you be thinking at all? I think I lost every last brain cell I possessed.”
“I guess that means I started with more.”
“Cheeky.”
She hesitated for a moment, the feeling not unlike the time she went skydiving. There was that moment, just before she jumped, where she wondered what she was possibly thinking.
And then she’d leapt.
“I was thinking about your merger offer.”
“Oh?”
“I’m beginning to think the idea may have some merit.”
“Most of my ideas usually do.” The cocky grin that accompanied the comment had her sitting up and dragging the covers over her body.
“I’m serious.”
“And I’m not?”
The playfulness was a new side to him, and she marveled at it. While she was loath to end the lighthearted conversation, marriage wasn’t a simple decision. “I’ve given the idea of marriage a lot of thought. I’m open to it, but I think we need an exit clause.”
“Why?”
She laid a hand on his arm. “For both of us, Holt. I watched my mother live in an untenable situation her whole life out of some misguided sense of duty.”
“Those were her choices.”
“I know that. I do. And I know I’m not being fair. To this day I don’t know why she stayed. Why she allowed her marriage to become such a farce when her own children thought she’d be better off divorced than staying where she was. But I need to know I have an exit strategy.”
“A golden parachute?”
“Exactly. And you should want the same.”
“Don’t assume you know what I want.” His voice was low, and not for the first time she had an image of him leading a business meeting or closing a major deal. The man was lethal, and a light shiver ran down her spine.
He’d be a formidable adversary.
She fought to maintain her cool. Her outburst that morning had been satisfying in the moment, but hardly productive. If she was going to make her point, she needed to do it in a way that he understood.
In business terms.
“It’s not an assumption when it’s practical.”
“Life isn’t practical. We’re not practical.” He pulled her close, the frustration in his words translating to the hard press of his lips, as if he could impress his thoughts upon her through their bodies. As always, that steady, ever-present attraction flared to life. Wasn’t that the very definition of their relationship? The immediate attraction between them. The meeting at the wedding, followed by their reintroduction at Keira and Nathan’s party. The last few weeks, full of the odd push-pull as they tried to get on firmer ground. Steadier footing.
It would be so easy to mistake that for something deeper and simply fall in love with him.
Love?
The thought caught her off-guard and she stilled in his arms. It was only when Holt shifted, burying his head in her neck as if to keep her close, that she moved once more, settling into his arms. She couldn’t be in love with Holt Turner, couldn’t even give it room to take root in her mind.
Love wasn’t a business meeting. It wasn’t a merger. It wasn’t rational.
What she had with Holt was all of those things, not love.
It couldn’t be.
…
The lights of the George Washington Bridge came into view as Holt navigated them home down the West Side Highway. Mayson hid a yawn behind her hand, marveling at how much help he’d been at the camp.
“You made a huge difference this weekend. Thank you for going with me. And thanks for driving. This ride has seemed light-years faster since I’m not doing it by myself.”
“The charity’s got a great foundation. They’ll get through their property mess, it’s just going to take time and patience.”
“Time is the one thing they don’t have.” Mayson tugged on the back of her ponytail. “They need to be able to make room for more children.”
“It’ll happen. The owners have a good growth plan and they’ll get there.”
“That’s nice to hear.”
“I thought about our conversation. About the golden parachute.”
“Oh?”
“I’m not looking for an easy out.”
“Neither am I.”
“You suggested it.”
The urge to tug on her hair gripped her once more, so she diligently folded her hands in her lap. “I suggested we be smart about where we are and why we’re making decisions. There’s a difference.”
“Smart?”
Almost of its own accord, her hand slipped to rest over her still-flat stomach. “Smart and safe.”
“I usually avoid