“I’ve made mistakes. And I still have some to atone for, but this is the single most important thing I know. I love you.”

  My knees dissolved.

  He gathered me against him until the numbness faded. Words were locked in my chest. Did I love him?

  I’d resisted the idea of it for so long, I didn’t even know how to quantify what was between us.

  Did I even really know him?

  He took my hands between his and rubbed them to warm them before bringing them up to his mouth. “Now the atoning. And the truth.”

  “Buddy, you are going to give me a heart attack with all of this truth.”

  He gave a harsh laugh. “This is where I ask for trust. And I know I don’t deserve it.”

  “What? You have a wife?”

  His jaw locked with an audible click.

  That piece I’d had before and lost came into pristine, laser focus. “Danbury.”

  He blew out a breath. His posture was tense and he looked miserable. “Helena, yes. Not my wife. Not yet anyway.”

  “Not yet?” I was pretty sure it was a shriek.

  But then things got a little hazy. I launched myself at him and we both went into the snowbank.

  He grabbed my wrists as he spit snow out of his mouth. It streaked his beard and hair, as well as covering his chest. “Rachel.”

  I was on top of him and all I saw was red. “You have a fiancée?”

  “Kind of. Not really. I’ve never even kissed her—okay, well, maybe a chaste kiss hello and goodbye.”

  I jammed my knee into his middle, hoping for his balls, but he blocked me with his thigh. He swore and rolled me onto my back.

  “I swear it’s not like that. It’s business.”

  “And that makes it better?” I tried to heave him off me.

  “No, of course it doesn’t.” He pinned my hands as we went deeper into the snow. My skirt had flipped up and I got all of him between my legs. This time, not the way I wanted him.

  “Get off me,” I growled.

  “Are you going to knee me in the balls?”

  “Probably.”

  He shook his head to get the snow off his face. “Then no. You’re going to hear me out.”

  I relaxed. “Fine. Let me go first.” He eased up and I brought my knee up—hard.

  He groaned and rolled off of me into a fetal position. “Fuck.”

  I wiggled my way out of the hole and pulled down my skirt. I was wet and frozen and I wanted to smash his whole manly unit into the snow with my boot.

  “Jesus.” He put his hand down to push up and just went deeper. “You know, you wouldn’t be this angry if you didn’t love me too.”

  “No woman wants to be cheated on,” I roared at him.

  “There was no cheating. I was just protecting her, goddammit.” He pressed his face into the snow and spewed a litany of mumbled words before he finally got himself onto his knees.

  “Oh, so you’re a good guy? Give me a break.”

  He rose to his feet, snow covering him from head to toe. “It wasn’t all altruism, no. My grandfather was pressuring me to start a family and it was just a foregone conclusion that it would be with Helena.”

  “Oh, sure. You profess your undying love for me and then, oops, I’m engaged?” I swiped at the snow clinging to my skirt, but it just melted, dragging down the material.

  He patted snow off his chest. “Undying?”

  “Whatever. You thought this was going to go well?”

  He was still semi-crouched over. “Well, I’d hoped we could have an adult conversation. I was wrong.”

  “Don’t give me that. You buried the lead, sir.”

  He threw his head back and laughed. “God, I must be insane to be in love with you, but I am. What I was trying to tell you is that I was going to speak with my grandfather and Helena and tell them that I fell it love with someone.”

  I blew my bangs out of my face, but they were wet and stuck to my forehead. I crossed my arms, my teeth chattering. “You were?”

  “Yes.” He stepped forward, lifting his knee against his other thigh to block the family jewels first. “Can I come closer?”

  “Maybe.”

  He turned me around and dragged me back against him. He wrapped his arm around my middle. “I don’t really trust you yet.”

  “That’s rich.”

  He pressed his cheek against my hair. “Let’s go get warm and I’ll explain some things, all right?”

  “Fine.”

  He paused. “Is that an actual fine? Or is that ‘I’m still pissed’ and ‘as a man, I’m supposed to know better’ fine?”

  “It’s a ‘I won’t de-ball you’ fine.” I forced myself to relax.

  “De-ball? Is that a thing?”

  “Want to test the theory?” I peered up at him.

  “No. One shot to the balls is good with me.”

  He led me around the bend, away from the mess we’d made. I felt bad that my Uncle Fred would have to shovel again—or whomever he got to do the cleanup—but I was too frozen to let it bother me for long.

  I was tempted to get into my Bronco and go home, but my cat was at his place—just as I was most nights. I’d gotten very comfortable at his cabin and so had Gary.

  Thankfully, his truck warmed up quickly. The ride to his place was quiet, neither of us wanting to upset the weird balance between us. When we pulled into his driveway, I jumped out before he could come around and open my door for me.

  He unlocked the door and Gary met us in the foyer, slinking around our ankles with loud meows.

  Clay slid me a glance. “You’re freezing. I’ll feed him. Why don’t you go up and take a hot shower?”

  I was too cold to argue. Ten minutes later, I had defrosted under the magical shower head. I was tempted to stay in there and not deal with any more information, but even Clay’s amazing water tank couldn’t hold up all night.

  After I dried off, I went to the bedroom and started to reach for the red plaid shirt I’d confiscated, but I wasn’t quite ready for that. Instead, I pulled on comfortable flannel pants and a hoodie.

  He was right. I hadn’t wanted to know about his real life. I did like things the way they had been going. Our little bubble was easy and he’d allowed me to let it stay easy. Now I had to decide if I wanted to step in his real world.

  It was tempting to Google him, but I blow-dried my hair instead.

  I knew snatches of details from my years in the city. Manhattan was chock full of people, but in reality, it was a small world. Especially in the circles Clay Winslow ran in. I hadn’t been in that lofty world, not really. But the rich were a gossipy bunch and I’d heard a lot of dirt over the years.

  The problem was, I’d been out of the game for what amounted to a lifetime in the fast-paced world of New York City’s elite. I’d come to Happy Acres in August and before then, I’d been so wrapped up in the Pierce event, I’d been cut off from nearly everything.

  “Woman up,” I muttered to myself and went downstairs.

  Clay had the lights down low and the fireplace going. He’d switched on the tree lights and the ornaments we’d hung on the tree together gave me pause. The bells from his grandparents, some of the ones I’d stolen from Aunt Laverne, the fragile, hand-painted balls from different countries—all of them created the first story of us.

  I’d even gotten a box of ornaments from my mother in the mail that I was going to add to the tree.

  God, I’d been sunk this whole time and hadn’t even realized.

  He was wearing fresh jeans—his favorite pair—and a thermal shirt that was probably as old as I was. He must have used one of his four guest rooms to grab a hot shower for himself.

  What did it say about me that it gave me a twinge that he hadn’t come into our—his—room? No, it had become our room in only a few weeks. I’d taken to his place even faster than the mini-cabin I’d been living in for months.

  He was crouched in front of the fire, his arms outstretched to warm his hands. Gary had tucked himself between Clay’s feet, soaking in the same heat.

  My little family.

  I hadn’t been paying attention when it happened.

  “Hey.”

  He shifted, fatigue cutting deep lines into his forehead, then he stood up straight. “Feel better?”

  “A bit.” I tucked my fingers into my sleeves.

  He nodded to the end table. “I made you some tea. Figured you had to be all hot chocolated out.”

  I gave him a half smile as I stepped down into the living room. “A touch.”

  He sat on the couch, near where a glass of something amber rested on the coffee table. The hard stuff. Things were definitely getting serious.

  I came around the couch and tucked myself into the corner, lifting the mug to warm my still frozen hands.

  Clay turned toward me. “Let’s just get this out of the way, shall we?”

  I lifted a shoulder.

  “Helena Danbury is a family friend. We practically grew up together. Me, Ransom, and Reid Pierce. Thick as thieves, as the saying goes.”

  “Reid? Really?” I hadn’t seen that one coming.

  He gave a harsh laugh. “Once we were closer than brothers. Helena was a little younger than us, so she wasn’t around at that time. We were in prep school and boarding school together. Ransom’s family and Reid’s were especially tight.”

  The revelations were thick tonight. “I didn’t know Ransom was thick with anyone.”

  “Ransom was very different when we were younger.” He leaned back against the arm of the couch, sprawling out with his drink set on his belly. “He’s got two sisters.”

  I settled cross-legged and leaned forward a little, my mug in my hands. “Well, I guess that covers why he’s so…”

  “Insane?”

  “He’s a bit uptight.”

  Clay took a sip. “You should see him in the city. He’s looking around as if a sniper is ready to take me out at all times.”

  My eyes widened. “Is that something to worry about?” I hadn’t thought about that end of being wealthy. Many of the parties I’d done had security, but it was more of a big guy in an ill-fitting suit near the door kind of deal.

  “In his mind. Actually, cyber attacks are more likely. He’s my personal security.” He twisted the glass, staring down at it. “There’s a lot of history between all of us.”

  I leaned forward, touching his leg. “You don’t have to tell me all of it.”

  “I don’t think you want the encyclopedia of my life. We’d be here until dawn.”

  “You know most of my stuff.”

  He sat up, setting down his glass on the coffee table. “Long story short—Reid was in love with Ransom’s sister. They’d been a couple since right before college.” As if remembering something, he shook his head on a laugh. “Marigold was a force.”

  “Marigold?”

  “I know. Not sure how Ransom happened with those names, but his mother is a bit of an eccentric. She comes from a whole lot of money—old Brooklyn money—so she can do pretty much whatever she wants.”

  “Ransom definitely doesn’t act like he comes from money.” I was pretty sure he had holes in most of his shirtails. Weird holes too.

  “No. He left for the Army after…” Clay closed his eyes for a moment before he met my gaze again. “He doesn’t talk about it, even to me. All I know is he can fly anything. Plane, helicopter, jet—his knowledge is scary. But I’m certain he’s seen a lot of shit we definitely don’t want to know about.”

  Well, that made sense for the quietly intense man I’d just started to come to know.

  The tension rolling off of Clay said there was a lot more to the story.

  “You honestly don’t have to tell me everything.”

  “I know.” He took my cup away from me and set it beside his, then lifted me across the couch to lay against him. “This is easier. I keep watching you try to puzzle out my screwed-up life.”

  I rested my cheek against his chest. His heart was a reassuring beat, easing the locked muscles I hadn’t realized I had. As I relaxed, so did he. His hand stroked down my still damp ponytail.

  “Marigold and Reid were together forever. The kind of together where wedding bells were a foregone conclusion.”

  I stroked the waffle texture of his shirt mindlessly. “Except they weren’t.”

  “No, they weren’t. Her choice, not Reid’s. The problem was Marigold came to me a few days before the wedding.”

  My head popped up. His face was full of shame.

  “Oh, no.”

  “She came onto me. I wasn’t prepared. As I said, Marigold was a force. She was upset and I was trying to console her.” He draped his arm over his face. “It was awful.”

  I pulled down his arm. “How awful?”

  “She kissed me and I didn’t pull away fast enough.”

  “Did you want to?”

  His eyebrows lowered. I could tell he was actually thinking it through. Guilt had a lot of filters. I knew that firsthand.

  “No. I think it’s the first time I actually can say that. I mean, I was young and dumb when it happened. A gorgeous woman throws herself at you after she’s been crying and there’s a lot of shit going on.”

  “Clay in his twenties? Wanting to play hero.”

  He groaned and threw his arm back over his face.

  I inched up so I could peek under his forearm. “You still play hero, you know.”

  “Well, fuck. I opened myself up to this analysis, didn’t I?” He sat up and situated me to straddle his lap. “I’m no hero.”

  “So says the guy who chased after me when I had my meltdown.”

  “Because I care about you. And you were hurting.”

  “And Marigold?”

  His jaw clenched.

  “Helena?”

  His fingers gripped my hips.

  “Just like me.” It was brutal to look at the truth of it all.

  “You don’t need a hero,” he said with a snarl.

  And just like that, my chest eased. “Aww, look. He’s growing before my very eyes.” I grinned down between us. “More growing even.”

  “The woman I love is sitting on my lap.”

  “Even bruised and battered, it still rises to the occasion.”

  “Rach, I’d have to be dead not to rise to the occasion for you.”

  I slid off of him. I would not be distracted with sex. It was tempting. Things were a whole lot easier between us when we were naked. “So, friendship meltdown I’m assuming?”

  He sighed. “Yes. Reid was mad with grief that she broke things off and found us together. It wasn’t good. Our entire friendship imploded. Reid and I haven’t spoken in almost ten years. Ransom was just as pissed, but Marigold was his sister and he knew how volatile she was.”

  I picked up my mug to have something to do with my hands. “It’s like a soap opera.”

  “At least I didn’t sleep with Marigold.”

  “No. You’d definitely have to do the deed in the soap opera situation. The wedding thing is enough though. I know a writer…”

  “Pass.”

  I laughed. “So, I don’t understand what this has to do with Helena, though I do appreciate the trip into your psyche.”

  “Helena and I have been each other’s plus one for most social things. It’s easier since we both understand how the rules work.”

  “Is that what you tell yourself?”

  He sat up. “To be honest, yes. After the blow up with Marigold, I didn’t let people get close to me. One stupid move on my part and I lost both my best friends. Not only that, Reid hated me.” He sighed heavily. “He also changed. Became harder, more ruthless in business, and in relationships.”

  And the pieces shuffled into place. Clay’s hero complex was ingrained at this point, I was fairly certain.

  “You know you can’t save everyone from themselves, right?” I set my mug down one more time. Not like I wanted the drink anyway. My tea was stone cold. “Reid’s issues aren’t your fault. They’re not even Marigold’s fault. Reid’s an asshole.”

  Clay’s eyes widened.

  “I worked for him. He is cold, exacting, and his level of perfectionism rivals mine.”

  “That’s possible?”

  I punched his arm. “But it was his choice to become an asshole.”

  “I get it. A little too late, but….” At my look, he gave me a half smile. “Something was going on between Helena and Reid and my knee-jerk reaction was to protect her.”

  “Her problem,” I reminded him.

  He turned toward me. “Yes. It is. I care about her, but I never loved her. Not the way a woman should be loved. It wasn’t fair to even discuss marriage off the cuff like I did.” He cupped my face. “I have to fix it.”

  My heart leaped into my throat. Fix it to marry me?

  Gary jumped on the couch, purring as he curled into a ball on the cushion separating us.

  “See? He agrees.”

  I rolled my eyes.

  “I hope you’ll give me a real chance. I just have to make things right first.”

  “You know we’re doing this a bit backwards, right?”

  “Why would we do things any differently?” He leaned in and brushed his lips over mine. “I’m going to go upstairs and sleep in the guest room. The next time I get my hands on you, I’ll deserve to make love to you.”

  I wasn’t sure what to say to that one, so I just nodded.

  I’d told him not to fall in love with me. Did he listen?

  No.

  But the real question was had I broken my own rule and fallen in love with him?

  Chapter 27

  Clay

  No Chick Flick Moments

  After a fitful night of sleeping in my guest room—I’d be changing the mattress immediately—I got up just before dawn and packed my bag for the trip back to Manhattan.

  I texted Ransom to have the plane ready. He never slept anyway.

  Before I left, I checked on Rachel. She and Gary were cuddled in my bed. The cat was actually under the covers with her. It was tempting to slide in there behind her and tuck her against me. She wasn’t much of a snuggler, except early in the morning.