Page 87 of Sealing the Deal

A yellow cab pulls up. The back door opens, and I hold the door as the passenger climbs out, ready to slide in. Then my gaze fixes on ice-blonde hair in two long braids. A tight black sweater that fits her like it was designed with her in mind. Perfect breasts. That cute ass. Impossibly long legs.

My brain stutters. Then my heart detonates. “Flic.”

She slams the door shut and turns on me, classic scowl firmly in place, eyes blazing. “Let’s get one thing straight,” she says, jabbing a finger into my chest. “I don’t need an idiot billionaire in an expensive suit any more than I need a hole in the head.”

I step back, stunned, but already smiling like a fool as I rub the spot she poked.

Her eyes lock with mine. “You think you can’t ask me to change. And damn straight you can’t. But that doesn’t mean I can’t choose it.”

I stare at her, breath caught somewhere between my lungs and my heart.

“Did you fly all the way to New York just to set me straight?” I ask hoarsely.

She huffs. “No. I came to tell you I don’t need you.” Then she steps closer, her next words coming in a fierce rush. “But I want you. And I love you. And if you think I’m letting you walk away from that, you’re wrong.”

My smile widens. I close the space between us and cup my hands to her face. I’m completely undone by this woman who has flown hundreds of miles just to yell at me. “You love me?” I breathe.

“Don’t make me say it twice.”

I laugh, a sound somewhere between disbelief and relief. My voice cracks anyway. “I love you, too. More than I ever thought I could love anyone.”

My mouth falls to hers, hungrily, desperately. Like every other time I’ve kissed her, the world falls away—the horns, the rain, the rush of people—until there’s only her mouth and urgency and tongue and heat. Her breath shudders against mine as I cradle the back of her head, my hands sliding into her hair, pulling her closer until the kiss turns slow and consuming.

When we pull back, I rest my forehead against hers. “You’d seriously give up The Hay Barn for me and move to New York?”

She scoffs. “For you? No. I’m doing those things for us. For me.”

Fuck, I love this woman.

“Too bad,” I say, smiling. “Because my life is in Denver.”

Her eyes widen. “What?”

“Helena’s taking over Ashborne Holdings. I’ll still need to be in New York sometimes, but⁠—”

She cuts in, stubborn as ever. “I’ll be working shifts until late sometimes. That’s not going to change, either. We both have commitments.”

I nod. “Talking of commitments, I have something I need to ask you.”

“It had better not be a marriage proposal, Grayson. I love you but we haven’t even watched my favorite Disney movie together yet.”

I tip my head back and laugh, already knowing that I’ll ask her that question one day. But not today. “It’s about the Stormhawks.”

I feel her stiffen slightly in my arms, like she’s bracing herself. But she doesn’t step back, doesn’t look away.

“Does it have something to do with the secret phone calls you’ve been making with Donny and the legal team?”

“I’m sorry I didn’t run this by you sooner,” I say. “But I wanted all the paperwork ready first.”

She narrows her eyes. “Don’t tell me you’ve bought something else.”

“The opposite,” I reply. “I need help running the Stormhawks with the Huberts. I need someone who understands the team and business. Fresh eyes. New ideas. You are that person, Flic. You are the best person for the job.”

“Are you asking me to help you run the Stormhawks?” Her eyes are wide with disbelief.

“You already have been. I’ve put every one of your ideas into play. I just want to bring you on in a more official capacity. If you have time? If you’d be happy to leave the bar a little more often?” I pause, watching her carefully. “And I’m hoping you say yes, because I’ve just transferred half of my majority share to you.”

“What?” She stares at me like I’ve lost my mind. “I’m part owner of the Stormhawks? Are you crazy?”