âUH . . .â A hum resonated through the dark house, then the lights flashed on. âGenerator?â
Pierce nodded and tucked the check Iâd given him into a jeans pocket. âCome in.â
âActually, Iâd better get going.â
. Coming here had been a horrible idea. Why had I let her talk me into this? Was I really so desperate that Iâd invade Pierceâs life to get his attention? Apparently, yes.
Spinning for the door, I spoke over my shoulder. âSorry to bother you.â
âWait.â Pierceâs hand shot out and landed on the door before I could yank it open and retreat into the blizzard. âYou canât drive in this.â
âOh, Iâll be fine. Iâm a Montanan. Driving through snowstorms is practically an addendum to the driverâs ed exam.â
The roads had been awful on the way up here but not impassable. Iâd probably make it home fine, right? It was already dark. That would make it, er . . . exciting? The trip would take me three times as long but if I made it before midnight, Iâd call it a win.
I could do this. I had to do this. Staying here was not an option. I felt stupid enough as it was. Maybe I could drive down the street, park and sleep in my car to wait this one out. Well, Momâs car.
Iâd sold my Explorer so I could write Pierce that check.
âKerrigan,â Pierce warned, shifting closer.
He was standing so close. His spicy cologne drifted to my nose and I drew in the expensive aroma. Rich sandalwood. Leather. Spice. Pierce smelled . . . oh God, he smelled good. That scent brought me right back to the night of the motel and the kiss.
âI canât let you drive in this weather.â Pierce towered over me, his voice low and soothing.
I dragged my gaze up his hard chest and when I reached those dark eyes, I couldnât breathe. In the past two months, Iâd forgotten just how handsome he was. Iâd forgotten about that sharp jaw and sexy beard. The memory of his eyes, framed by dark lashes, had faded. Even his lips were softer than Iâd remembered.
A rush of desire curled in my lower belly.
I was entirely, irrationally attracted to the man out to ruin my life.
I most definitely could stay here. This house was probably five thousand square feet, minimum, and it was much, much too small. Pierce needed to return to Colorado. Iâd stay in Montana. Wyoming would be a lovely buffer.
âI should go.â I tore my gaze from his and reached for the doorâs handle, yanking it open despite his hand still braced on the surface. The moment it was cracked, a blast of frigid air slapped me in the face and a flurry of snow rushed into the house.
The cold set me on my heels and when I shielded my face with a hand and looked out, I could barely see past the overhang of the porch.
This wasnât just a blizzard. This was a whiteout.
âYou are a stubborn, stubborn woman.â Pierce took my elbow and tugged me away from the door so he could shut out the storm. Then he leveled me with a scowl thatâ
âonly made him look hotter. âCome inside.â
Without waiting for me, he turned on his sock-covered heels and strode through the entryway, disappearing to the living room.
I tipped my head to the ceiling. âWhy do I make such bad decisions?â
âLike I said, youâre a stubborn woman. And probably because you let Nellie talk you into this particular bad decision.â
I cringed.
. âThat was a rhetorical question to the universe.â
âAre you coming in here or will you be hovering beside the door as we wait this storm out? Thatâs not a rhetorical question, by the way.â
I pursed my lips and pulled off my knee-high boots. Then I shrugged off my jacket and hung it on the rack in the entryway before following Pierce to the living room.
The scent of fire and warmth filled the room, chasing away the chill.
Pierce was sitting on the leather couch closest to the fire, his elbows on his knees as he leaned toward the blaze.
âIâm sorry for intruding.â I chose the armchair farthest from him.
âAre you?â He smirked.
âYes.â
âWhat did Nellie tell you?â
âThat youâd be here for a few days and if I wanted you to hear me out, the only way to do it was in person.â
Her logic had made sense given that Iâd spent my first thirty days calling and emailing him with no success. The only progress Iâd made with Pierce had been the last time we were here. So her logic had clicked and once again, I was back in the camp of desperate times calling for desperate measures.
âI have a plan.â
âAnd I have a headache.â He sighed. âThis storm is going to last for a while. Letâs save the plan for another time.â
I opened my mouth but clamped it shut when his shoulders slumped forward. âOkay.â
âThatâs it?â He glanced my way, his eyes dropping to my legs before he turned his attention to the fire once more.
Was there something wrong with my clothes? I wore skinny jeans and a thick, oversized tan turtleneck that Iâd stolen from Larkeâs closet because Iâd sold all of my nice sweaters on eBay.
Cutting Pierce that check hadnât been easy, but dreams meant sacrifices, and thankfully, I had a younger sister who loved clothes and was my size.
Pierce wasnât dressed in a suit, but casually in a black quarter-zip sweater with a red and gray plaid shirt underneath. His jeans were a dark wash and I suspected that his ensemble was made entirely of designer labels. No closet-raided clothes for him.
âCan I get you anything?â he asked, sinking deeper into the couch. He leaned heavily against an armrest like it was the only thing keeping him off the floor.
âNo, thanks. Are you okay? Besides the headache.â
âIâm just tired. Cold. The drive up was long.â He blinked but it was more like closing his eyes for two seconds, then opening them again.
âIâm sorry.â Idiot. I was an idiot. Nellie wasnât here so I was mentally shouldering her with half the blame.
Sheâd called me last night and told me that Pierce was coming to Montana. She knew how hard Iâd been working and had promised that if I approached him, heâd listen. All Iâd hoped for was a few minutes for him to hear me out. Nellie was certain that if he knew my plan, if he realized Iâd sacrificed everything, heâd understand and give me more time.
Iâd put everything possible on the market, including, as of today, my own home. So far, all that had sold were my clothes and my car.
Mom let me borrow her Cadillac today and whenever necessary for longer trips around town. Otherwise, Iâd been walking around Calamity, even in the cold. My house was only ten blocks from the gym. I made daily trips to the grocery store to spread out purchases and limit myself to one or two bags a day. Ramen noodles had become a staple of my diet and instead of my nice shampoo, Iâd switched to the generic bottles that cost ninety-nine cents.
All so I could write Pierce the check in his pocket.
Iâd never forget the look on his face when heâd read the amount. God, I was a fool. Humiliation was becoming a constant companion.
I should have declared bankruptcy. I should have admitted defeat, taken a job at the dealership with Dad and given up on running my own businesses.
That check Iâd written Pierce was everything to my name.
And it wasnât enough.
A bone-deep disappointment became this black hole in my heart and my eyes flooded.
had never been the plan. What was I doing? I was thirty years old and living like a broke college student. Why? If Gabriel were here, heâd cheer me up. Heâd tell me to keep fighting.
But he was gone. My dreams were crumbling to dust and I just . . . I didnât have a fight. Not anymore. And against Pierce, Iâd never win.
I ducked my chin so he wouldnât see the tears swimming in my eyes. Maybe heâd beaten me. Maybe Iâd failed. But I didnât want him to see me cry. I swallowed hard, willing the lump in my throat away. I blinked furiously and my nose was stinging but I refused to sniffle.
.
So what if I didnât own my own business? So what if I worked for my family? So what if my dreams had to change?
âAre you all right?â Pierceâs voice cut through my turmoil.
âYes,â I lied.
âKerrigan.â
Why did he have to say my name like that? All soft and sweet and caring. It only made fighting the tears harder. He was the man with my future in the palm of his hand. Actually, in the front pocket of his jeans.
Maybe heâd cave if he realized I was seconds from crying, but I wasnât here to gain his pity.
I wanted his faith.
Gabriel had always told me I would do great things. Maybe heâd been wrong. But Iâd believed because believed.
As the fire crackled and the storm raged beyond the windows, I grabbed my emotions with an iron fist. There would be no crying. If I gave up now, Iâd regret it for the rest of my life.
I forced my chin up and steeled my expression. âI want you to to me. One more time. I want you to hear me out. Because I need you to take a chance. On me.â
He shifted, kicking his feet up on the couch. He propped an arm behind his head, and though he still looked tired, his eyes stayed locked on mine. âWhy?â
âBecause I wonât let myself fail. The truth is, I donât have a lot of tools in my arsenal. But I work hard. I am ambitious. And though my five-year plan isnât infallible, itâs solid.â
My goal wasnât to be the richest woman in the world. Hell, I didnât even want to be the richest woman in Calamity. I just wanted to be my own woman.
âYou put a property on the market,â he said.
âI did.â I nodded. âTwo, actually. My own home and the farmhouse. I take it Nellie told you about that.â
He shook his head. âNo, she didnât.â
âThen how did you know?â
âI saw the farmhouse listed with the real estate agency in Calamity.â
âYou checked? Why?â
âI own an investment company.â
âLike Gabrielâs. He told me you started one of your own.â
âI did,â Pierce said. âAnd as much as I would like to simply take my clientsâ information at face value, we follow up.â
âWe? Or you?â
He hesitated, shifting on the couch, and when he spoke, he turned his eyes to the fire. âMe.â
Interesting. Why hadnât he assigned my loan to someone else? Even Nellie? Iâd asked her about Grays Peak Investments. Sheâd told me that their account teams had been swamped since absorbing Gabrielâs company. Was that why heâd kept track of what I was doing? Because I was an easy account to manage while his teams were working on others? Or was there something more?
Heâd delivered that letter to me personally. I doubted he did that for other clients.
Gabriel had once boasted that Pierceâs company would one day surpass Barlowe Capital. Pierce was busy running a huge corporation. Why would he care about my defunct business loan?
âIâm sure Iâm small potatoes compared to most of your clients.â
âYes, you are.â A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. âThough you are the most persistent.â
âStubborn. Like you said.â
âNo wonder youâve become friends with Nellie. Sheâs stubborn too.â
I smiled. âSheâs pretty fantastic.â
âShe is. Did she tell you how we met?â
âNo.â
Pierce swung off the couch, moving to the fire to add another log. Once it was crackling, he glanced out the windows, and like it could feel his stare, the wind screamed in the dark.
I shivered. Driving home would have been terrifying.
âThanks for letting me stay, by the way. Iâm sorry to do this to you.â
âItâs okay.â He waved it off, returning to the couch. âI admire your persistence. And if our positions were reversed, I probably would have done the same.â
âDid you just give me a compliment?â
He chuckled, stretching out on the couch again. âLack of sleep. I must be getting delirious.â
I brought my knees to my chest, relaxing into the chair and making myself comfortable. With the storm outside, there was nowhere for me to go until it calmed. Maybe in a few hours, the wind would calm and visibility would increase. Then I could attempt the trip down the mountain.
âWhat were we talking about?â he asked.
âNellie and how you met.â
âThatâs right. Weâve known each other since high school. We went to the same private school.â
âIn Denver?â
He hummed his agreement. âShe was a scholarship student, which shouldnât have made a damn bit of difference, but it did. Kids can be mean. Rich kids can be cruel. But since you know Nellie, it wonât surprise you that instead of keeping to herself like most of the other scholarship kids did, she threw it in our faces. She beat us at everything. And she loved to one-up me at every opportunity.â
âWhy is that? Were you mean to her?â
âNo, just competitive. I like to be the best.â
I laughed. âWhy am I not surprised?â
âNellie bested me for valedictorian, something she doesnât let me forget,â he said. âAfter graduation, I lost touch with her for a while. Then I bumped into her at a restaurant about five years ago. Sheâd just moved back to Colorado from Charlotte and was looking for a job. I was desperate for a competent assistant and she agreed to work for me temporarily. She threatens to quit whenever I piss her off.â
There was such fondness in his voice. And trust. Did he know that she spoke about him in the same way? âI doubt sheâll ever quit.â
âI hope not. Sheâs one of my best friends. Work is a lot more fun when you can work with a friend. Iâd miss her.â
Where was the impatient, arrogant billionaire who hadnât been willing to spare me a moment? A knot in my stomach untwisted, a knot that had been there for months. For the first time, he sounded like the Pierce who Gabriel had spoken of so often. The beloved grandson of my friend.
âWe went on a date once.â Pierce chuckled. âWhat a disaster. It was our senior year. To this day, Iâm not sure what came over me to ask her out.â
âSheâs beautiful.â Nellie and I FaceTimed on occasion and she was more than beautiful. She was stunning with silky, white-blond hair and sparkling green eyes.
âShe is pretty, but to me, sheâs just . . . Nellie. Always has been. For our date, I picked her up and took her to the movie theater. We stood in the lobby arguing over which movie to watch and our debate lasted so long that we missed both of our choices.â
âYou couldnât agree on a movie but you can work together?â
âWe grew up. Not that we still donât argue. Lately, our arguments seem to center around you.â
âMe?â I knew Nellie was on my side, but to have her go to bat for me with Pierce was . . . Now I wanted to cry again.
His dark eyes met mine and the softness in them disappeared. âI hope you havenât kindled this friendship with her in hopes of getting ahead with me.â
I flinched. Wait. What? Had he just accused me of using Nellie? I was out of my chair and on the way to the door faster than he could blink. âJust when I thought you werenât a complete and total asshole.â
Screw this place. Iâd sleep in the car. That was better than staying here with him.
âKerrigan, wait.â He rushed after me but I was already in the entryway and shrugging on my coat.
I bent to pick up a boot, my hair flying around my face as I put it on and then the other. âNellie is a good person. So am I. You, on the other hand, have some major character flaws. I cannot believe youâd accuse me of using her. Or that you have so little confidence in her that youâd think sheâd let anyone use her.â
âThatâs not . . . where are you going?â
âHome.â Eventually.
âYou canât leave.â
âWatch me.â With both boots on my feet, I reached for the door. âGoodbye, Mr. Sullivan.â
âKerrigan.â His hand whipped out, smacking against the door. âJust . . . stop. Thatâs not what I meant.â
âOf course it was.â
âYouâre right,â he admitted, rubbing at a temple with his free hand. âIâm sorry. I just . . . Iâm not myself tonight. And Nellie doesnât have a lot of friends. She never has. I can tell that she really likes you.â
âAnd I really like her.â
He pulled his hand away from the door, holding them both up. âYou canât leave. Itâs not safe out there. Thereâs plenty of room in this house for us both if youâd like to avoid me until the weather blows over.â
The wind chose that moment to let out another ear-splitting scream.
. I really didnât want to go out there. I might get buried in a snowdrift on the way to the car.
âFine.â I backed away from the door and without another word, wearing my coat and boots, stomped out of the entryway.
My pride wouldnât let me return to his living room. Instead, I marched in the opposite direction, unsure of what Iâd find at the end of a short hallway. It was the kitchen.
The space was massive. Dark cabinets filled the U-shaped room and accentuated the rustic theme. A copper farmhouse sink gleamed under the lights and the range was larger than any Iâd seen outside of a professional kitchen.
There was a bouquet of fresh flowers on the island. I walked closer to smell the roses and lilies. A note card tucked under the vase read and was signed from the club with a phone number.
âYouâve listed your home.â
My head whipped away from the flowers as Pierce walked into the kitchen. âI thought you said we could avoid one another.â
âI was thirsty.â He walked to the cabinets, opening one after another until he found the glasses. âWater?â
âPlease.â
He took two glasses and filled them both with ice water from the fridge. After setting one beside me, he went to one of the stools at the island and took a seat. âWhy did you list your home?â
âTo pay you.â
âIâm selling anything necessary. My car. My clothes. My blood, if needed.â
He took a long drink, his eyebrows furrowed. âYou own seven properties. Why not one of the other properties?â
âBecause they have tenants who pay rent. Iâm not going to kick people out of their homes.â
âYou could sell them as occupied rentals.â
âThere arenât many people in Calamity who want to own and manage rentals. And I love my tenants. The last thing I want is to sell the place and then have them worry their lease wonât be renewed. Besides, their rent is paying my mortgages with the bank.â
The properties Iâd bought with Gabrielâs loans had been the farmhouse and the building downtown. If I had to sell one of my rentals, then Iâd do it. But it would be my last resort.
âWhat about the gym?â
âItâs covering utilities and my living expenses.â Not that it was much.
âWhat happens if you sell your own home?â he asked.
âThereâs a vacant studio apartment above the gym. Iâll move in there. If I find someone to rent that place, then luckily, I have a big family. Iâll couch surf for a while.â Iâd hate every minute of it, but if I had to, Iâd move home with my parents until I built up money for rent.
âAnd what about this farmhouse?â
âThatâs a long story.â
He glanced to the windows and the gusts of snow hitting the glass. âWeâre not going anywhere. Not tonight.â
Oh, how I hated that he was right. If this storm kept up, I wouldnât be able to leave for hours. Maybe not until morning.
But he was here, asking me questions. This was why Iâd come here, right? To make him listen and understand. For some reason he was curiousâmaybe it was atonement for putting his foot in his mouth.
This was my opportunity and since I was stranded, I might as well make the most of my window.
I rounded the island and took a stool, keeping one between us. The distance was important, because even though I was irritated with him, the man was still too handsome for his own good. Or mine.
âHave you ever heard of Lucy Ross? The country singer?â I asked.
âSounds familiar but Iâm not really into country music.â
âSheâs a friend of mine and lives in Calamity. She moved there two summers ago and rented my farmhouse.â
It had been an interesting property, even before the drama from that summer. All my life Iâd known it as Widow Ashleighâs farmhouse. I couldnât remember her husband, whoâd died when I was a kid, but Mrs. Ashleigh had gone to our church.
When sheâd died, the farmhouse had gone to her niece, whoâd had no interest in owning a home in Montana. The niece had sold everything inside along with the house and its twenty acres.
The family whoâd bought the property had been from Texas, and the year theyâd moved in had been one of the coldest, snowiest years in decades. When theyâd put the house back on the market the following spring, no one had been surprised.
Theyâd moved away but the house hadnât sold, probably because their price had been outrageous. Clearly they hadnât been desperate for the moneyâI couldnât relate, but Pierce probably could.
âBefore I bought it, the property sat abandoned and empty for years. Thereâd been squatters inside once. Another time, it had been vandalized by teens needing a place to have a keg party, so theyâd used the land and the old barn. As you can probably guess, it was a mess, and I was able to get the place for a steal.â
The Texans had finally dropped their ridiculous asking price when their realtor had texted them pictures of the interior and the county had sent a letter threatening a fine if they didnât clean it up.
The day theyâd lowered the price, Iâd jumped.
âI called Gabriel, so excited. When I told him about it, he immediately loaned me the money because I didnât have the capital on hand. The timing worked out because heâd already drafted our contract so I could buy two buildings on First. He just increased the loan amount.â
âTwo buildings.â He cocked his head. âI thought you just had the gym.â
âI sold the other. It was at the end of the street with the most room to expand. I bought it without plans for exactly what to do with it, but the price was right. A friend of mine runs a construction company. He outgrew his office and was looking for a new spot. I sold it to him and paid Gabriel some of the money Iâd owed.â
At one point, Iâd owed him nearly a half million dollars. Apparently, my payment history didnât count for much in Pierceâs book.
âI put a lot of money into the farmhouse,â I told him. âMaybe too much. But it needed it and I was planning on renting it to vacationers coming through. When Lucy called and inquired about the place, she didnât bat an eye at my price. She wanted a longer-term lease, and I was ecstatic. It was better than I could have hoped for. But . . .â
How was I supposed to predict death? It was hard for me to go to the farmhouse now. I used to walk into the kitchen and see the new cabinets and the walls Iâd painted myself. Now, I simply saw the blood.
âBut what?â Pierce asked.
âLucy had a stalker. She was living in Nashville and came to Montana, hoping the stalker would leave her alone. But it didnât work out that way. The stalker found her. Tried to kill her in that house. If not for the sheriff, Lucy would probably be deadâalong with my other friend Everly and two teenaged kids who happened to be there that day. Duke saved their lives. But to do it, he had to shoot the stalker. She died in my house.â
Pierce blinked. âOh.â
âExactly.
.â I took a drink of my water. âIâm surprised you didnât come across the story.â
âI checked for listings with the real estate office but that was about the extent of my research.â
âWell, you didnât know about the incident, but every person in Calamity does. No surprise, nobody wants to buy the farmhouse. Especially in the winter. And now that itâs on the market, I canât exactly set up vacation rentals.â
The house was sitting empty, costing me money for utilities each month. I wasnât sure how Iâd pay Decemberâs bill, which was coming in a few weeks. Iâd barely managed Novemberâs. Hopefully when they asked what I wanted for Christmas, my parents wouldnât make too many comments when I requested cash.
âDo you think it will sell?â
âNot unless I slash the price.â It was listed at $220,000, which was less than it was worth given its acreage and my updates. But because of the terms of my loan, I couldnât go much lower. If I could sell the farmhouse at that price, after the fees and such, Iâd be close to paying off Pierce.
âHmm,â Pierce hummed, raising his glass to his lips.
Silence stretched between us. Without the noise from the fire, the wind seemed louder. Angrier. A nasty gust slammed against the windows and even though the house was solid, it was like a blast of cold snaked through the kitchen.
âHow about a payment plan?â
I was midsip and nearly choked on my water. Had I heard him right? âWhat?â
âA payment plan. Ten years. Interest-only annual payments. Balloon payment of the principle at the ten-year mark or sooner. No prepayment penalty. Ten percent interest rate.â
I waited for the catch. There had to be a catch, right? Those terms were almost as good as the ones Gabriel had given me. The interest rate was steep but I was in no position to argue.
âWhy are you looking at me like that?â he asked.
âThatâs it?â
âShould there be more?â
âUh . . . no?â
He chuckled and slid off his stool, coming closer and holding out a hand. âDo we have a deal?â
âDeal.â I slid my hand into his and an electric jolt raced up to my elbow.
Pierce must have felt it too because his eyes flared, his gaze dropping to my mouth. He leaned in, just an inch, but what a difference it made. He was so close that his body chased away the roomâs chill. His eyes ensnared me and my lips parted.
Did I want him to kiss me again?
But before I could get my wish, he let go of my hand and took a step back. âCome on. Itâs cold in here. Letâs wait out this storm in the living room.â
The living room. Where we could put more space between us. An excellent idea.
Because now that weâd come to an agreement on my loan, the last thing I needed was to screw it up by doing something stupid.
Like kissing Pierce Sullivan again.