Too Long: Chapter 15

THE TOP DECK HAS BEEN TRANSFORMED into a picturesque al-fresco dining space. Hundreds of glittering string lights are hung around a table, set under a pergola on the far end where nothing obscures the view of the ocean. The scent of fresh flowers wafts through the air, mixing with the salty evening breeze.

A pop-up bar stands on the other side of the deck, manned by two crew members. One of them leads us to the table as soon as we arrive. It’s all very elegant, but far from what I had in mind when Colt made the mistake of letting me choose the menu. As it’s a whatever-you-desire dinner, we were asked earlier what we wanted to eat. Colt said he trusts my judgment.

Bad call.

He pulls my chair out before taking a seat, playing the boyfriend part with utmost engagement. My family’s on the main deck, but there are cameras everywhere, and the crew is loyal to my mother, so there’s no room for slip-ups.

“This is too formal,” I tell the waiter, wrinkling my nose at the twelve pieces of cutlery neatly arranged around my plate. “Can we swap all this for blankets and pillows?”

Colt cocks an eyebrow. “Picnic style?”

“Why not? The food I ordered doesn’t scream elegance.”

The waiter silently awaits our decision, and once Colt nods, he ushers us to the bar while he swaps the setting.

I catch Colt’s arm, pulling him back. We’ve been surrounded by my family all day, and I’ve not had the opportunity to apologize for my mother’s behavior. And Colt deserves an apology. The mortification that prickled my skin this morning rushes back, painting my cheeks red.

“I didn’t have the chance to do this earlier… I’m sorry I dragged you into this,” I say, pinching the hem of my dress between two fingers. “I didn’t think my mother would ridicule you every single step of the way.”

He hooks his index finger under my chin, tilting my head up. “You think her digs are getting to me? You said you don’t care if your parents like me, so what’s the problem?”

“I don’t care if they like you, but they should at least respect you, and when Mom implied you’re a charity case—”

He chuckles, and the husky, low sound makes my heart thud faster. “I couldn’t care less about your mother’s opinion, Addie. Don’t worry about me. I’m here to help .”

“But why?” I peer into his deep brown eyes, looking for answers. He never told me why he agreed. “You’re not getting anything out of this.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. It’s cute that you worry about me, but don’t, okay? I’m fine.” He drops a kiss on my forehead, turns to the bar, and swiftly changes the topic.

“So, what goes with this less-than-elegant dinner?” He scans the drinks on display behind the bartender. “Beer?”

“Beer works,” I sigh, turning my frown upside down. “Can we have two Coronas?”

“Of course.” The bartender pivots, taking two bottles out of the cooler, but halts, touching his earpiece and nodding at no one in particular. “My apologies, but we have to change location,” he tells us. “Please make your way to second deck. We’ll ensure everything is moved there.”

“Why? What’s wrong?” I ask.

The distant drone of a helicopter breaks the otherwise silent night. I no longer need an explanation. The helipad is on this deck… looks like we have an incoming guest.

A knot of dread tightens my stomach as I look toward the sky. There’s only one person it can be.

“She has got to be kidding me!” Stomping my foot, I grab Colt, dragging him down the stairs, deaf to his questions. My stomach isn’t far from ejecting its contents when he stops me at the bottom.

“What’s happening?” he asks, his arms shooting out to pin me against the wall and block my way out. “Deep breath, Addie. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“My mother,” I spit out, not bothering with the deep breath. It won’t help. “She… ugh! She must’ve called Grant. I’m almost certain that’s helicopter about to land here.”

“The Huddersfield farm guy? The guy your mother wants you to marry?

Grant?”

“Yes.” I swallow the bitter bile coating my throat. “I can’t believe she asked him to come when you’re here.”

Colt steps back, utterly unaffected. “Can’t say I’m surprised. Does his arrival change anything between us?”

“No! Of course not, I just… I don’t want him here.”

“Is he likely to make a scene?”

Oh yes. Grant’s as melodramatic and entitled as my mother. He’s not a bad person, just greedy. Having me as his wife would mean a substantial injection of cash for him. A fast-track way to ten digits because my dad’s put aside a billion dollars each for me and my brother; we get it once we say .

So, yeah… Grant will definitely try to upstage Colt at every turn.

I should’ve anticipated Mom inviting him.

Colt, however smart, handsome, and well mannered, doesn’t meet her lofty standards. She’s so determined to have Grant as her son-in-law she conveniently disregards a lot of foul history between us.

“He was just a child, Addie. He’s a man now. He cares about you. You should give him a chance to prove that.”

“I’m sorry,” I say, my hands so jittery, I’m reflexively playing with my hair—a tick I absolutely hate. “This is so bad,” I whine. “Dealing with my mother alone is bad enough, but the two of them together… they’ll be brutal, Colt and—”

He tilts my chin up like he did upstairs, drawing my eyes to his. It’s a small gesture, but powerful enough that my body sings. The intensity flashing in his eyes, the way he crowds my space, how good he smells… it’s near impossible to remember this is supposed to be an act.

“I’ve got thick skin, Addie. I don’t care what they say, but I want you to rethink whether I should be myself. I’m a hothead. I throw my fists way too easily.”

His knuckles trace the contour of my jawline and a hot ball of lust swells behind my ribs. God, the intensity in his eyes is enough to burn me up from the inside. My blood spikes a fever at the careful way he studies me, his voice heavy, loaded.

It’s only been four days since we met, but he’s got a hold on me already. I imagine him closing the distance between our lips so I can taste him. He’s had countless opportunities to kiss me for show but he hasn’t. Not once. He’ll kiss my forehead or my temple, but never my lips. The anticipation is maddening.

“You’re the jealous type?” I ask, moistening my lips, my heart fluttering like a caged bird.

“Territorial,” he admits. The hum of the helicopter grows, and Colt dips his head, whispering in my ear. “I don’t share, Addie. I don’t let other men touch what’s mine, so you need to think hard whether you want me to be myself because I guarantee it’ll end in blood if Grant gets too close to you.”

My vocal cords are tied, my panties soaked, and all I can do is nod because I’m afraid I’ll moan if I open my mouth.

“I need words, baby,” he urges.

“Be yourself,” I whisper. “I’ll make sure he doesn’t get too close, okay?”

Before he can respond, my brother rounds the corner, overly excited. At least he has the decency to wipe the grin off his face and offer a sympathetic look as he notices me.

“He wasn’t supposed to be here, sis. I would’ve given you a heads-up, but last time I checked he had a week full of business deals lined up in Europe.”

“

invited him?” I shoot him a death glare, pushing Colt aside as I charge at Ben, poking his chest with my finger. “How could you? I knew I had no support from Mom, but ?!”

“Are you kidding me? He’s my best man, Audrey. Did you seriously think I wouldn’t invite him because he makes you uncomfortable? Get over it. It was five fucking years ago!” His voice rises to compete with the deafening roar of Grant’s helicopter preparing for landing above us. “

broke up with him, so need to suck it up!”

“You beat him up!” I yell over the surrounding noise. “You were fifteen and you !

You said he didn’t deserve me! You were on my side back then. What changed?!”

“I grew up!” his voice booms across the corridor. The helicopter lands, the roar subsiding to nothing more than a low hum as the blades slow to a halt. “He grew up, too. You’re the only one still holding a grudge, Addie. Get over it.”

I scoff, taking a step back. I have so many things I’d love to scream in his face, but the elevator dings and Amara steps out with my mother. A cunning, self-righteous smile plays on her lips when we lock eyes.

“I can’t believe he came!” Amara rushes closer, bouncing on the balls of her bare feet. “Can I go up there?”

“No need, pumpkin.”

Cold chills slither up my arms at Grant’s voice on the top of the staircase. Amara squeals. Literally fucking then flings herself in Grant’s arms as soon as he’s within reach.

Colt hovers behind me. His warm breath tickles my neck as he circles an arm around my waist, pulling my back against his chest. “He’s your ?” he utters so quietly even I have a hard time hearing it over Amara’s elation.

I don’t miss the annoyance in his tone, though. It rings loud and clear. I nod once, the tendrils of a badass migraine licking my temples.

Grant sets Amara—who jumped into his arms—down and turns to my mother. A pair of overly snug, cream pants hug his ass, going perfectly with a white polo shirt straining to contain his muscles. He’s tied a pink cardigan round his neck to fall around his shoulders, dark shades tucked into his sand blond hair.

And the pièce de resistance? The dazzling Hollywood smile, brighter than the overhead spotlights as he kisses my mother’s hand. With the brown-nosing complete, he finally looks at me, Ben, and… is that a denting his big forehead as he checks out Colt’s arm draped over my stomach?

Grant is usually a master at maintaining his convincing poker face, so this slip-up comes as a surprise.

“Good evening,” he rumbles in that gravelly voice I adored as a teenager. “My apologies for the dramatic entrance. I wasn’t sure until the very last minute if I’d make it here at all.”

Amara beams, throwing herself at him again, her fingers tightly clasped around his neck. “I’m so glad you came!”

“So am I, pumpkin.” He stamps a kiss on her head, gently maneuvering her into Ben’s arms before shaking his hand and passing over a large gift bag. “Part one of your engagement gift. I’m sending you on a quest. You’ll find the details inside.”

“Thanks, man. It’ll keep Amara occupied for a few hours.” He motions toward me and Colt. “You remember my sister.” He smirks, the attempted joke falling on deaf ears. “Now meet her boyfriend, Colt Hayes.”

Grant spares us a glance, unleashing his well-practiced, fake cheerfulness. “Of course. Victoria mentioned Addie brought a guest.”

He extends his hand to Colt, and my first thought is to bite Grant’s pulse point and tear out his artery. “Pleasure to meet you, Colt. I wish I could say I’ve heard a lot about you, but Addie’s kept your existence a big secret…”

If Grant hoped to strike a nerve, he’s misjudged the audience.

“Well, I heard a lot about you,” Colt replies, firmly grasping Grant’s hand. “Addie said you’re a farmer in Huddersfield. How’s that going?”

I let out a half-snort, half-laugh at the horrified look crossing Grant’s face.

“You told him I’m a ? Aren’t you the one living with a pig, and Jason the ostrich, Audrey?”

“It’s , and he’s an emu,” Colt cuts in, the faint amusement in his tone a dead giveaway he’s having fun.

“I assure you, Colt, I am a farmer,” Grant emphasizes, his British accent getting posher the angrier he grows. “I own farmland all over the UK.” He drops his condescending gaze, sizing Colt up in a way that makes something violent stir within me. “And what is it that you do?”

“Right now, he should be doing me, so if you’ll excuse us…” The words tumble out before I can stop them.

Not my finest performance considering my mother’s literally three steps away, her face suddenly paper-white. Whatever. If I spend another second with Grant he really will bleed, and it’ll be making it happen.

With a grip that’s way too tight, I seize Colt’s hand and lead him away, leaving Grant to gape after us.

I didn’t spend an hour getting ready just to have my date ruined by his arrival. Colt’s relaxed demeanor vanishes once we’re round the corner, away from prying eyes. The atmosphere between us shifts to uncomfortable for the very first time. It’s normally as easy as breathing to be around him… right now I’m closer to suffocating than breathing.

Every muscle in his neck and back tenses, his jaw clamped tight as he grips the railing. I watch him inhale and exhale, like he’s cooling his jets, before he pulls out a cigarette, the flame of his lighter flickering in the purple ambient lighting.

“Did I… did I take it too far with that comment?” I ask, coming closer.

The picnic area at the far end of the deck is the last thing on my mind, no matter how beautiful it looks.

“No,” he clips, sending a cloud of smoke swirling between us. “You could’ve told me he’s your ex.”

I lean beside him, my back to the ocean, eyes on Colt. “I’m sorry. It’s not a past I enjoy revisiting.”

He rakes his long fingers through his hair, taking another drag. “How far back are we talking?”

“Five years.”

That calms him down a bit. Maybe he thought we broke up recently and there were still some unresolved issues or feelings.

Someone clears their throat, and we both glance at the waiter with a bucket full of Coronas on ice, standing at a respectful distance. “Shall I give you a moment?”

I cover Colt’s hand with mine before he snaps the steel rail. “If you’d rather go back to our room—”

“No.” He flips his hand and laces our fingers as he turns to the waiter. “Leave the bottle opener, please.”