Harlequin Superromance March 2014 - Bundle 2 of 2: The Secrets of Her Past\A Real Live Hero\In Her Corner (46 page)

“I'm not a hoarder,” she spat, her eyes watering. “Was this Miranda's doing?”

“No. It's not Miranda's fault, and you need to stop blaming her,” he answered sharply, protective of his sister. “You're unwell, Mom, and I'm going to see that you get the help that you need.”

“What does your father say about all this?” she asked, the bitterness in her voice killing him. “Does he agree to this ambush, too?”

“I haven't talked to Dad about it yet. My concern is with you. I have talked to Wade, though. He's coming out to help.”

Her lips trembled and she stared at Trace. “Wade is coming?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper. “He's coming home?”

“Yes,” he lied. He hadn't actually convinced Wade to come home yet, but if he had to fly to California and drag him back to Alaska by his ears, he'd do it. Wade was as guilty as anyone in leaving to escape the pain of Simone's loss. It was time for Wade to man up and be the oldest brother. “In the meantime, we need to get you ready for the cleanup.”

She seemed lost for a moment, and Trace realized it'd been a long time since their mother had had all her children home. The impact of that realization made him feel like a wretch. He'd always blamed his job for his frequent disappearances, but that wasn't entirely truthful. He'd eagerly accepted every job that took him far away because being home had been too filled with memories, both good and bad. And they weren't all of Simone. Truth was, he'd been stuck in the past for a variety of reasons.

But not any longer.

“Whether you like it or not, we're all going to be here for you, Mom,” he said in earnest. “And I know you don't believe it right now, but we love you and we care about your welfare. I hope someday you'll come to realize this and forgive us for the hard line we're taking now.”

She didn't answer but the wounded look spoke volumes. Lord, grant him patience. If Miranda were to be believed, his mother could hold a grudge like no one's business.

Well, he was about to put that belief to the test.

He just wished Delainey were here to brave the battle lines with him, because this war was going to be hell.

Just the thought of Delainey brought a sharp pain that was difficult to hide. A part of him wished he could follow her, no matter where she went, just to be with her. But he knew that wasn't possible. He loved her desperately, but he knew himself well enough to know that following her to Los Angeles would've ended badly for them both.

And so, he pushed that pain of loss deeper inside him so he could function with everyday life as well as focus on the situation with his parents.

But it wasn't easy.

And it hurt like hell no matter how deep he buried it.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

D
ELAINEY
HAD
JUST
finished packing her office when Hannah walked in, her pinched expression as sour as if she'd just been informed her skinny mocha latte had been made with whole milk rather than skim. “Aren't you clever,” she said, not waiting for an invitation. “Can't say I'm surprised. I tried to warn Mr. Pilcher that you were a Judas, but he thought better of you. Can't say why. All you ever did was bring this network down, and frankly I'm glad you're leaving.”

“Don't hold back, Hannah,” Delainey said, chuckling. Oddly, it was refreshing to hear Hannah openly insulting her rather than hiding her jabs behind the thin veneer of concern or support. “There's no need to hold back now.”

“Oh, I've waited a long time to get this off my chest, and I can't wait to tell you exactly what I think of you.” But instead of launching into a tirade, Hannah swallowed whatever she'd been planning to say and said, “Karma will be your reward for screwing over the very network that gave you a chance in the first place.”

“Not that I have anything to worry about in the karma department, but if I did, and karma were an actual thing in the cosmos, my guess is that everyone in the film and television industry would have cause to worry...especially you.”

“Oh, is that so? And what puts you above the rest?”

“Because even though I tried really hard to fit in with the sharks, I never truly did because I never wanted to lie, cheat or steal my way to the top. Now, I don't have to. The Discovery Channel is very happy to add my new show to their lineup, and I am more than happy to go.” Delainey paused before adding, “By the way, sorry to hear about that impending lawsuit against
Hubba Hubba.
Who knew filming drunken college coeds during spring break could end so badly? I hope that poor kid recovers from his fall. Good thing you caught it all on camera. I'll bet that will help in court.”

Hannah's perfect lips compressed to a tight, angry line, and Delainey wanted to laugh and point out that when she did that, all the wrinkles and fine creases she'd been trying to squelch through chemistry returned with a vengeance. But for reasons unknown, Delainey didn't. Maybe she didn't see the point in trading barbs with someone who was plainly unhappy and likely to become even more so as life wore on.

In the past two months since returning from Alaska, she'd had a series of epiphanies that had left her giddy with the newfound knowledge and understanding of not only herself, but her driving ambition. After she'd put together a rough cut of Trace's pilot, the head of the network, Frank Pilcher, had nearly wet himself with glee because he knew it was going to be a hit. But when she'd tried to explain to him that Trace wasn't interested in pursuing a whole season, Pilcher's glee had turned to anger pretty quickly.

“You'll secure this man or else it's your job,” the mean old man had threatened as he jabbed a finger at her. “Do whatever you did to get him to agree to the pilot. That seemed to work well enough. I don't need to know details. I just want results.”

And it was then that Delainey realized this would be her future—constantly sacrificing her morals and ethics to cater to someone else's vision. Her next decision had been laughably easy.

“Trace Sinclair has too much integrity to have anything to do with you or this network,” she said, shocking Pilcher into speechlessness. “He did the pilot because I strong-armed him into doing it. I manipulated him into doing something he hated because I thought I needed this for my career. But I was wrong. And you were wrong. The only one who was right was Trace.”

“You're out of line, girl,” Pilcher warned, spittle appearing on his bottom lip as his anger built. “You're out of line and I won't tolerate it!”

She laughed. “It's okay. You won't need to tolerate me or my ideas any longer. I've accepted a job elsewhere.”

Pilcher gaped. “You ungrateful little bitch!”

“On the contrary, I'm very grateful. You helped me realize who I don't want to be and whom I don't want to be associated with. I quit.”

She hadn't waited for his response and had gone to her office to pack, a smile on her lips, a song in her heart, and as she passed the breakfast cart, she'd snatched a double chocolate doughnut that she would've been too terrified to eat four short months ago for fear of it landing on her hips and thighs.

It'd been the best damn doughnut she'd ever eaten.

She'd been given a glimpse into a future that she wanted, and she was about to grab it with both hands. She wasn't sure if she believed in fate or what have you, but she had to wonder if something else was at play with the circumstances that had unfolded in her favor.

The Discovery Channel had been more than ready and willing to listen to her pitch without even seeing the rough cut of Trace's pilot, thanks to the bold and loud bragging of one particular cameraman who happened to know whom to share the information with over cold beers and nachos. And once she'd pitched the halibut fishing idea, they'd been immediately sold, happy to cash in on the recent rash of public interest in all things natural or blue collar.

She'd been welcomed into the Discovery Channel family with open arms. The best part? They'd been eager to hear her other pitches, as well. For the first time in her professional life, doors were flying open instead of slamming shut.

But the best part had been the biggest and most unexpected blessing.

“You may think you're the cat's meow today, but tomorrow may be a different story. You're crazy for relocating to Alaska for a new job that you don't even know is going to work out in the long run. I hope you crash and burn.”

With that Hannah turned on her Louboutin heels and left, her steps rigid and brisk until she disappeared around the corner. Delainey laughed, leaning back in her chair, amazed at how different everything felt.

Hannah was right; she was taking a huge risk in relocating to head up the halibut show, but she wasn't worried. She knew Thad would test well in the demographics they were shooting for, and she had plenty of other ideas in the wings, all of them focused on Alaska in some way or another. But aside from all that, she no longer suffered that desperate hunger that threatened to chew on her soul if it wasn't appeased. Instead of that awful nothingness, she was filled with a glow that radiated from her heart and spilled over into her entire being.

She no longer had to choose—she could have Trace
and
her career.

And she was going to grab on to the opportunity with both hands.

Trevor had been right—good gravy, she'd never admit that to him in person—but if she'd spent more time figuring out how to succeed, rather than running scared in the other direction, she wouldn't have spent the past eight years limping from one desperate attempt to another to fit into a world she despised, living apart from the one man who was her life.

Delainey hefted the box that contained the sum of her work for the past eight years and gladly walked away.

She had a life to live.

And a plane to catch.

* * *

T
RACE
LIFTED
THE
SPOON
to his mouth for some stew, courtesy of Miranda, when there came a knock at his door. He glanced at the clock and frowned at the time. Who was bothering him at this hour? Dropping the spoon back into his bowl, he climbed to his feet and went to the door, prepared to skewer whoever was on the other side. But he wasn't prepared for whom he saw.

“Delainey?” he started, shocked. “What are you doing here?”

Before she could answer and before she could playfully remind him of the last time she'd shown up at his door unannounced, he grabbed her by the jacket and hauled her forcibly across the threshold to seal his lips against hers. He didn't care why she was there. The fact that she
was
there was all that mattered.

He kissed her long and deep, all of the pent-up longing and heartache coalescing into a giant ball of need, and before she could catch her breath, he hefted her across his shoulder and carried her as she laughed and squealed straight to the bedroom. “I hope this is what you had in mind, because I'm not about to stop,” he warned, giving her behind a good squeeze. She shrieked in open delight, and he grinned as he threw her to the bed, ripping his clothes free as he stalked toward her.

“Don't you want to know what I'm doing here?” she asked, breathless, as her fingers made quick work of her clothes. Within seconds, she was naked and his vision crossed. He fell on her like a beast, so desperate to touch and feel her again, to make sure that he wasn't dreaming and she was, in fact, there with him. She held his face tenderly as she kissed him deeply, her breasts rubbing against his chest with beautiful friction.

“I've missed you,” he said with a hoarse groan as her deft fingers found his erection. “God, I've missed you so much....”

“Ask me why I'm here,” she whispered against the shell of his ear, and he pulled away, staring down at her with open curiosity. She grinned. “Go ahead...ask me.”

“Why are you here?” he asked, almost afraid.

“Because I've finally come to my senses and I'm saying yes to the question you asked eight years ago.”

He stared into her eyes, his heart tripping a beat, afraid to hope. “Yes?” he repeated, almost unable to breathe. “Are you saying...yes to what I think...you're saying?” The words caught in his throat and he blinked back tears.

“Ask me again,” she murmured, tucking the errant wisps of hair behind his ears.

Trace shook as he stared into her eyes. “Delainey Clarke...will you marry me?”

“Yes,” she said, nodding with tears. “Yes, you beautiful man. I will marry you. I will gladly spend the rest of my life with you. And,” she added with a twinkle in her eye, “I think we've had a long enough engagement. Are you busy tomorrow? My calendar is free if you are....”

“Tomorrow?” he repeated, astonished. “You mean, going to the courthouse and just getting it done?”

“That's exactly what I'm talking about.”

The fact that she couldn't wait another second to be his wife filled him with such joy that words escaped him. He'd resigned himself to living without her, determined to watch her soar without him if need be. But she'd come back to him on her own, and he wasn't about to let her go again. He didn't know what had changed, but he didn't care. Whatever it was, they'd make it work. “We can be at the courthouse by 9:00 a.m.”

She grinned and pulled him close. “Perfect. Gives us just enough time to sleep in a little, because you're not going to get a lick of sleep tonight.”

“That's my girl,” he growled, pressing another deep and lusty kiss against her lips, nearly delirious with the need to feel her against him.

“Your girl...always and forever,” she said on a sigh.

And then they took turns showing each other exactly how much they'd missed one another—over and over and over.

Come morning, they were both bleary-eyed and sore in muscles they hadn't even known they possessed, but they didn't mind.

They were about to spend the rest of their lives together and couldn't wait to get on with it.

Come what may, they were a team and forever more always would be.