Page 61 of The Billionaire's Kiss
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Warner
After a shower and putting on a nice suit—I’d checked out the website for Orla’s resort, and it was pretty ritzy—I was on my way in my tiny rental car to see it. Finally, after six long months.
The wait was over. I no longer had to sulk about because I would never see her again. I no longer had to agonize over how I would never hold her in my arms again. I would no longer have to try to find my place in a future without her in it.
At least that’s what I hoped.
There were no guarantees that she’d want me. Her heart had been open when she left, and some other man might have been able to slip inside of it while I took my time coming to my senses on the other side of the world.
A lot could happen in six months. A person could fall in love and get married in that time. If she were married, I would have to accept it. My plan of stealing her away from a boyfriend was one thing. But I wouldn’t want to break up a marriage.
I took in a sharp breath as it occurred to me that she might even be pregnant by this hypothetical man she’d married. “God, no!”
If I’d waited too long to get to her, I would kick myself in the ass. If she was so far out of reach that it would be impossible for us to ever be together, I didn’t know what I would do.
I’d been telling myself that I’d come to Ireland for myself. But now, as panic rushed through me at these thoughts, I knew that wasn’t entirely true.
I wasn’t drawn to Ireland. I was drawn to Orla.
My brothers would be so disappointed in me if nothing came of this entire endeavor. It would be better if they were mad at me over it; I could handle their anger much better than I could handle disappointing my family.
Even with all the doubt, I had to see her. I knew where she was, and I had to see her. I couldn’t turn around and go back to Whisper Hills without finding out if there was a chance in hell for us to get back to where we were before she left.
The lights of the resort shone in front of me. It was a beautiful sight, glistening like a beacon in the night. The place looked inviting.
Pulling up to the valet, I got out of the car, trying not to look as if I was about to puke. “Nash.”
The man wrote that on a tag and then said, “Enjoy your evening, Mr. Nash.”
I headed inside, my entire body hot with nausea. A herd of pterodactyls moved in waves around my stomach. Beads of sweat popped out of my forehead, and I knew I had to get to a bathroom—and fast.
I saw a sign that saidGentson a door in the lobby, and I made my way to it as cool and casually as I possibly could. Heading inside, I found it wasn’t a private bathroom as I’d hoped. Anyone could walk in on me at any time. I went into a stall and took deep breaths. “Stop being so afraid.”
So many thoughts kept popping like popcorn in my head, and not one of them had a positive energy about it. Everything had headed to a dark place. She was married. She was pregnant with another man’s child.
I heard the door open and held my breath. I didn’t want anyone to see me in my present state. I knew I was sweating profusely, and I was sure I’d gone pale too.
I heard the man turn on the water—it sounded like he was splashing himself, and I overheard what sounded like a pep talk. “Get it together, man. You love her. You always have. You can do this. She needs you to do this so she can feel safe about loving you,” he said.
I stepped back, and my foot hit the metal trash can, sending it crashing to the marble floor with a terrible racket. I knew I had to come out of the stall now, or I’d look like a real weirdo.
As I opened the stall door, I felt my cheeks burning with embarrassment. “Sorry about that. I kicked over the trash can.” I went to wash my hands, trying to act cool.
“So, ya heard me being an idiot, did ya?”
“Hey.” I held my hands up in the air. “No judgment here, bro. I’ve been talking to myself all damn day over a woman.”
“So I’m in good company then.” He pulled a little black box out of the pocket of his slacks. He wasn’t wearing a suit, the way I thought a man who must be on the verge of proposing would. Especially in a place like this. Instead, he wore tan slacks and a cream-colored sweater. His shoulder-length hair was dark and on the unruly side, and his eyes were dark with thick, matching the brows above them.
“Seems so.” I ran my wet hands over my face. “Think she’ll say yes?”
“I’m really not sure.” He put the box back into his pocket. “We’ve got a long history, but she’s not coming around the way I thought she would. I’m hoping that making a commitment to her in this way will help see that I’m in it for the long haul.”
“I wish you luck, man.” I hoped giving some other guy a bit of luck would help with my karma.
“Are you here to see a woman too?”
