Page 50 of Run for the Money

Olivia rolls her eyes. “You don’t just run the races you know you can win. You try your best, knowing you can’t decide the outcome. You control what you can, and trust your horse with the rest. Nick is the horse in this metaphor.”

Footsteps on the porch catch my attention.

“He’s home! Olivia, you’re the best, and I owe you a long, extravagant dinner where you’re allowed to tell me any gossip you want,” I say in a rush.

I scramble to hang up the phone as the front door opens.

“Melanie?” Nick calls, frantic.

We collide in the doorway in a bone-crushing hug. I bury my face in the side of his neck, and he holds me so close my feet leave the ground. For a long moment, that’s all we do—just hold tight to each other, our heartbeats crashing against our ribs, wild and loud.

“I overreacted,” I say, my lips brushing his throat. “I’m so sorry.”

“You overreacted? I was halfway to the jewelry store when I called Edwin to get your ring size,” Nick says. “I’m the one who overreacted. I’m sorry, baby.”

“I will never forgive you if you elope in Vegas before I’ve even met this man!” Olivia’s voice says from somewhere on the floor.

Nick pulls back, startled.

“Olivia, hang up the phone!” I shriek.

“Nice to unofficially meet you, Nick. Be good to my girl! She’s emotionally weird, but worth the effort!” Olivia says.

“Hang up!” I repeat, mortified.

Nick’s mouth twitches in amusement. “Nice to meet you, too, Olivia. If I promise she’ll call you back in a bit, can I talk to my girlfriend privately?”

“Sure thing! Bye!” Olivia says brightly.

I cover my face in my hands, not sure how this day can get any more embarrassing. Nick wraps his arms around me again and kisses the top of my head. I instantly start to feel better. He’s holding me like I’m not a giant mess who just screamed at him for something he didn’t do. Then again, he’s a person who reacted to that screaming by taking concrete steps toward a Vegas wedding with a woman he’s known for two months, so Olivia’s right about us matching each other’s energy.

“I’m not Paul,” he says quietly. “I’m never gonna be Saint Walters, with his tailored suits and shiny loafers. I’m not gonna be polite and mild-mannered and deferential. I’m gonna lose my temper sometimes and pick stupid arguments when I’m insecure. I’ll try not to, but I think I might be emotionally weird, too. Most importantly, Melanie, I promise I’m not going to leave.”

“Thank fuck you’re not Paul, because I don’t want mild-mannered. I want you,” I say, looking up at him. “I really was falling apart at the idea of you leaving me and marrying someone else two seconds later, so I’ve obviously got some things to work on. But I only panicked so hard because I love you.”

He laughs, and I feel the sound rumbling in his chest as much as I hear it. “Miss Manners, was that a four-letter word? When we’re both fully clothed? That’s awfully rough language for this venue.”

I give him a playful shove, and he pulls me right back into his arms to kiss me until I’m breathless.

“It’s six and a half, by the way,” I say when we break apart.

“What is?” he asks, baffled.

“My ring size. For when the time comes.”

His answer to that is another kiss, and this time we don’t resurface until we’re naked and sweaty, the living room couch in disarray beneath us.

Chapter 16

Nick

The morning of Melanie’s last competition for the season dawns bright and cold. There’s a fresh layer of frost on the ground and a bite in the air that signals oncoming snow. Melanie’s already up and dressed with coffee brewing when I come inside from morning chores.

“Bundle up, California boy,” she says, passing me a steaming mug. “You’re going to be spending all day in the stands, because I plan on winning this thing.”

Her words are confident, but the tension in her shoulders tells me she’s nervous.

“It’s an indoor arena,” I remind her.

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