Page 78 of A Very Titan Christmas
“You didn’t let me finish. You jumped up, all businesslike and cold.”
“I wasn’t cold.”
“You weren’t overly friendly.”
Had he been cold? Maybe. He’d been surprised. His ego had suffered a kick in the nuts. He might’ve been cold. He wasn’t all that friendly to begin with.
She pushed stray hair off her cheeks and studied his face, as though searching for an unspoken agreement that everything had changed. Or maybe he was reading too much into her expression. Wishful thinking.
“You want to let me finish now?” she asked.
Slowly, he nodded. “Yeah. Guess so.”
“I said we stopped pretending.” She squeezed the teddy bear and focused on the windshield. “And I said I don’t know if something becomes real just because it’s not fake.”
Fuck. Wishful thinking was correct. He’d read the situation deadass wrong. “Rach…”
She looked at him and showed a vulnerability he hadn’t expected. The needling aggravation under his skin washed away. They hadn’t talked about the future. They hadn’t admitted anything. They’d been physical. They’d been intimate. But they hadn’t acknowledged what life would look like beyond Christmas.
Hell. Bryce unbuckled his seat belt and jumped out of the car. He rounded the hood and yanked her door open. He just needed to get his hands on her. It was that simple. He reached over and unfastened her seat belt, pulling her to face him. “Rach, I’m so far beyond pretending that I’m in love with you.”
“You are?”
He tried to read past her surprise to what those wide eyes might mean. The cold air wrapped around them. He should’ve stayed in his seat, but damn if he could stop himself from touching her. “I don’t know how this works out, but it won’t unless you hear it. So, there it is, babe. I love you.”
Her lips curved up, and he realized he’d been holding his breath.
Rachel wrapped her arms around his neck. “I love you too.”
He dropped his forehead to hers. “No more pretending. The real deal.”
She nodded. “So kiss me already. We’ll figure everything else out when it’s not freezing.”
Bryce was smiling when he slanted his mouth over hers. Smiling when she melted against him. Smiling because they’d miscommunicated years ago but would not go down that road again.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Investigators returned toask Rachel what seemed like a million questions. They knew who had taken her but didn’t know who was behind the big picture. Their questions indicated a narrowed field of billionaires who might have a dog in the mineral-and-metal rights fight. But after she answered their questions, the agents disappeared. She knew that wasn’t the end of the ordeal. There would be a more thorough investigation, and, eventually, a trial. But for now, Rachel didn’t have to deal with it. She was just happy she hadn’t frozen to death in a garden shack.
What a weird thought.
Almost as weird as running into her ex-boyfriend and falling in love with him while writing her first cover article. December might have become her favorite month.
Her father’s summit went on, and she never saw any of its accompanying hoopla. Rachel didn’t leave her cabin. She didn’t watch television or listen to the news. Bryce didn’t leave her side. Titan Group promised she would be safe, and Jared Westin asked her if Bryce was worth all the trouble. She thought he was joking, but the Titan boss was hard to read.
His wife, Sugar, was not hard to read.
Neither were any of the other Titan Group members and spouses who dropped by with care packages or just to talk. Rachel couldn’t explain why they were enveloping her into their world—unless someone had sent out a Bat-Signal.
It might have even been that they were folding both herandBryce into Titan Group. From what she’d learned, he had known several of his teammates for years. They’d worked on joint operations together, and some of them had also known Montana. The way this group absorbed them as their own made her heart sing.
“Mia dropped off gingerbread cookies and cinnamon bread.” Rachel set the basket on the counter and peeled back the linen so they could peer at the goodies. “Wow. That smells amazing.” She examined the baked goods. “I’m pretty sure the cookies and the bread are homemade.”
“We’re going to eat like kings this week.” He plucked the cinnamon bread from the basket and set it on a cutting board. Bryce portioned out two generous pieces and took a bite of his. “You’ve gotta try it.”
She did. It was as good as his eyes rolling to the back of his head showed. “You know, I don’t bake like Mia.”
“I don’t either.”
