The Professional Bride: Billionaire Marriage Brokers Book Three (15 page)

Chapter 2
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REJECTED.

The big red stamp glared up at Rym, mocking him. February twenty-seventh, the day before the water right renewal was due, and it had been rejected. Rym scanned through the fifty pages, looking for a red mark or some other indicator that he’d missed something.

Shaking the envelope caused a small note the size of a business card to fall out.
Failure to provide proof of death.

That was it?! He dialed Mr. McGraw. “Hey, we’ve got a problem with the water rights. How soon can you get here?”

Amber knocked on Rym’s door, and he motioned her inside.

“I’m close. I’ll swing by and see you in five,” replied McGraw.

Amber moved gingerly in her high heels. She insisted that they felt better than flats, and dang, they looked good, even if she didn’t have the normal spring in her step that he’d grown used to. Another night or two in the hot tub should help.

Rym ran his hands through his hair. Now was not the time to spend reminiscing about kissing Amber. It was also not the time to try it out again.

“I need some help.”

“Oh?” Amber pressed her palm to his forehead. “You don’t feel feverish.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I thought for sure the day Rym Hoagland asked for help, he’d be delirious with fever.”

She slid her hand down to his cheek, and Rym pecked a kiss to her palm. “Maybe I found the right person to ask.”

Amber feigned innocence. “McGraw?”

Rym snagged her around the waist and puller her onto his lap. Nuzzling her neck with his chin, something Rym had been delighted to discover tickled Amber to no end, he growled at her. “You’re being deliberately obtuse.”

“I believe it’s called flirting,” replied Amber.

“When it ends up like this, I believe the court would rule it flirting as well,” said McGraw from the doorway.

Amber jumped off his lap like Rym had pinched her, which he didn’t, but now that he thought about it …

“From your tone, I assumed this was an urgent matter,” said McGraw.

Rym cleared his head and Amber took a step back. Her face was still red with embarrassment, but Rym caught a glint of mischief and knew they’d finish their
discussion
later.

“It is.” Rym picked up the paper with the giant red stamp and turned it to face Mr. McGraw. “My application for renewal has been rejected.”

“What?!” Mr. McGraw bolted across the room and snatched the papers from Rym.

While he flipped through them angrily, Amber tapped Rym on the shoulder. “What’s this about?”

Rym explained the issue of water rights.

Amber’s lips narrowed into a thin line. “Why didn’t I know about this?”

Rym felt his hackles rise at the question. “I thought we had it taken care of.” Rym gestured between himself and Mr. McGraw.

“As did I,” confirmed Mr. McGraw. “Here it is.” He laid the papers on the desk, and Rym and Amber leaned over to read it at the same time. Mr. McGraw pointed to a tiny red
x
next to a paragraph about bequeathing the rights to an heir. The heir must provide proof of death in the form of a certified death certificate.

Amber yanked open Rym’s bottom drawer, thumbed through the files, and finally pulled out the envelope McGraw had given him after the funeral. He hadn’t thought about it since that day and he would have been at a loss as to where to find it.

“Here’s the certificate.” She slid it onto the desk. “You have two hours before the office closes.”

“I’ll drive,” said McGraw.

“I’ll cover for you here,” said Amber.

McGraw was out the door. Rym stopped to grab his coat off the back of his chair. He paused, watching Amber straighten his desk.

“Amber.” Rym struggled against his pride. It was hard for him to admit he needed someone. “I should have asked you to look over the papers. Then we wouldn’t be in this crunch.”

Amber shrugged. “I’m sure it will work out.”

“I want you to know ...” He paused. He wanted to gather her into his arms, but it didn’t seem right. He wanted her to understand that what he was about to say didn’t have anything to do with the way his heart beat faster when she was near or how being around her was better than shooting down a black diamond run in fresh powder. “You’re valuable around here.”

Amber hugged a file to her chest, ducked her head, and tucked her hair behind her ear. “Thank you, Rym. That means a lot to me.”

The air grew thick with the emotions passing between them. Though pleasurable, it was too much for Rym. He wasn’t used to feeling something so strongly for anyone that it could easily consume him. “I’d better get going.” He stepped back, struggling to break eye contact with Amber. Tripping over a chair, he turned and stumbled out of the room.

Adjusting his shirt, he hurried to the front of the lodge, where he could see McGraw’s car idling. Rym’s hands shook as he pulled open the door. His stomach churned and he struggled to maintain steady breathing.

“Don’t worry. I’m sure we’ll get this worked out.”

“Yeah.”

McGraw took a quick left and Rym grabbed for the door handle. He wasn’t really worried about the water rights. He should have been; not getting those rights transferred over could mean the end of Iron Mountain. What had his whole body in an uproar was the certain knowledge that he’d fallen in love with Amber.

Rym had never been in love before. His only example of a couple in love had been his parents, and as his mom said, that wasn’t a great example. What if he screwed this all up? And, even more terrifying, what if he offered Amber his heart and she didn’t want it? He was husband number four, after all. She could pack up and leave at the end of the year and never look back. For all he knew, she was already counting down the days until she could move out of Utah and back to sunnier weather.

They pulled into the parking lot, and Rym slammed his door as he got out of the car. This is why he didn’t open up to people. When you loved someone, you placed a lot of trust that they would love you back. And even if they loved you, there was no guarantee you would be happy with them.

McGraw placed a hand on Rym’s shoulder to stop him from barreling through the front doors. “Let’s go in with a there-seems-to-be-a-mistake attitude and tone down the frustration.”

Rym shook off McGraw’s hand. He was right. Rym needed to focus on the water rights if he was to have any future with Iron Mountain—or with Amber. What he needed to do was take the training she’d given him and put it to good use. He copied the professional smile he’d seen Amber use so many times when she was upset at him and opened the doors. He could do this. He could be calm and collected on the outside, even though his insides were scrambled. 

Chapter 2
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Rym was surprised at how cooperative Patrick was when he caught sight of Mr. McGraw. They were in and out of the office in less than forty-five minutes. Rym thought about Amber’s advice to hire smart people. His grandpa certainly followed that path, and it had served him well.

“Thanks for your help. I appreciate what you did back there.” It was the second time in one day that Rym had thanked someone for helping him. A warm feeling grew inside his chest. Though he didn’t consider McGraw a friend, he trusted him. First Amber and now McGraw.

For the longest time, Rym had believed he had to do it all on his own or else it wouldn’t get done. Now he leaned on Amber, and when the rejected application arrived, he hadn’t hesitated to call McGraw. If managing the resort meant knowing who to call and how to get things done, then it seemed to Rym that he was learning how to take care of the place.

“No problem. I’m glad I could help.” McGraw drove much slower on the way back to the resort. “Are you going to celebrate tonight? Maybe take Amber out for a nice dinner.”

Rym considered it. They’d been to most of the restaurants in town. Besides, he’d grown to love Amber’s cooking. “Why?”

“Isn’t it your anniversary? Two months, I believe.”

Rym scoffed. “Who celebrates a two-month anniversary?”

McGraw shrugged. “Fine. Celebrate the water rights. You’ve saved enough money today to deserve a nice dinner. My wife and I went to the seafood buffet at the upper lodge last week. It was amazing. Amber would love it.”

Would she? She probably would. Amber loved to try new foods, and since she was from California, she liked cooking different types of fish. Maybe she’d like a fresh lobster. “That’s a good idea.” Rym pulled out his phone and searched for the number. “Are you going to celebrate?”

McGraw shook his head. “This is all in a day’s work for me,” he said with a smile.

“Well, have a great night.”

Rym got out of the car and pressed connect to make his reservations. This love he felt for Amber scared him, but the fear wasn’t strong enough to keep him away from her. Being with Amber was the best part of his day. She made even small moments happier, and man, could she kiss. Her full lips were every bit as luscious as he’d imagined they would be.

Amber was pleased that everything worked out, and she was excited when he asked her to dinner. It didn’t take long for them to get home, and he was in and out of the shower in record time.

He’d just started running some gel through his hair when Amber walked into his room, fastening a bracelet. She’d changed into a black dress that hugged her hips. Her hair was sleek and looked as shiny as blond ribbons. For the evening out, she’d darkened the makeup around her eyes, increasing the exotic appearance already created by her full lips. Suddenly, he understood why people said, “She looked stunning,” because she’d certainly stunned him enough that he stood there like an idiot with his hands stuck in his hair and elbows hanging out until she looked up from the bracelet she was fastening.

“You look nice,” she said.

Rym looked down at his slacks and dress shirt. “Trish picked it out.”

Amber smiled as if she had an inside joke.
Had they discussed the way he outgrew his old clothes?
If so, did Amber like the changes? Rym tugged at his shirt sleeve.

Amber ran her hand down the front of his shirt, smoothing it out. “Trish is amazing.” She smiled appreciatively before sauntering away.

Rym grabbed his new zip-up sweater from the bed and followed her into the hallway. “Is that really her job, to take people shopping?” Placing his hand on the small of her back, he guided her across the room. Her waist was so tiny; his hand looked huge against her body.

“She’s usually much more hands-on and pays weekly visits to each bride or groom.” Amber grabbed a wool dress coat from the hall closet, and Rym took it from her and held it up so she could slip into it. “Since we’re so far away, I don’t get to see her as often.”

“You miss her?” asked Rym.

Amber nodded. “We’ve worked together for years, and she’s become a good friend.”

Rym digested the information.
Work
for Amber meant marriage. Trish had outlasted three husbands. No wonder she and Amber were close.

They chatted easily on the way to the restaurant. When Rym opened her door, Amber once again linked her arm through his. It seemed so old-fashioned—most couples held hands or just walked side-by-side—but he thought it was a sweet way to say that she trusted him to guide her, and he took that trust seriously.

As they neared the front doors, there was a patch of ice. Rym put his hand over hers and pulled his arm closer to his body so she’d feel steady in her heels. Her grateful smile was enough to tell him he’d done the right thing, and he lifted his chest with pride. How she managed to make him feel powerful and strong with just one look defied his understanding.

The hostess easily found their reservation and had them seated in a manner of minutes. Their server brought out drinks, salads, and rolls and explained what the different sections of the buffet served. As he talked, Amber’s leg started bouncing. Rym looked at her out of the corner of his eye, but she didn’t show any signs of distress. If he didn’t feel her leg bouncing next to his, he’d have no idea she wasn’t calm and collected.

After he left, Amber leaned over and said, “Did he say lobster? I thought he said lobster.”

Rym nodded. “He did.”

“How about we skip the salad and go right for the lobster.”

Rym raised one eyebrow. “Do you have a thing for lobster?”

Amber pressed her lips together and Rym watched, mesmerized. She took two quick breaths and blurted, “I have an addiction to lobster.” She glanced over her shoulder at the buffet.

“Addiction?” Rym speared a cherry tomato and popped it in his mouth, purposely slowing his movements.

Amber crossed and re-crossed her legs, shifting in her seat.

Rym chuckled at her attempt to stay calm when she was obviously anxious as he loaded his fork again. “Have you seen someone about this addiction?”

Amber rolled her eyes and speared a cucumber. Making a face, she bit into it.

Rym enjoyed watching her normally perfect composure come undone, over lobster of all things. Who had an addiction to lobster? He’d heard of women who went nuts over chocolate, but fish?

“I really think we need to get you some help,” he offered.

She shook her head. “We need to get me some lobster.”

Pushing his salad away, Rym said, “I am curious to see what happens when you actually have it.”

Amber silently clapped her hands together, and Rym stood to pull out her chair. They made their way across the restaurant to the buffet and Amber didn’t waste any time selecting her lobster tail. She also took two crab legs and a small vat of melted garlic butter. Tapping her foot, she waited for Rym to load his plate so they could walk back together.

Once seated at the table, it was as if Rym and the rest of the world disappeared behind a haze of garlic butter. Amber took a bite of her lobster, closed her eyes, and moaned softly. Though she exhibited the signs of a chain smoker needing a hit, she didn’t rush through her meal. Instead, she savored each bite as if it alone contained enough ecstasy to last a lifetime.

She was halfway through the crab legs when a guy in a suit clapped Rym on the shoulder, hard, and said, “Oh man, you let her have lobster?”

Amber nearly choked. “Jeremy?” She took a sip of water and waved off Rym’s outstretched hand. Her eyes scanned the restaurant before she stood up and gave the guy a hug. It wasn’t a bear hug or even a romantic gesture, but it was friendly enough to put Rym on guard against the major league pitcher.

Jeremy Appleby carried himself with the confidence of a man who had found success in his life. He was younger than Rym—and broader, Rym admitted reluctantly. In any other circumstances Rym would have gushed over Jeremy Appleby. Instead, he wanted to fling the lobster carcass in Jeremy’s smug little face. See what the guy would look like covered in greasy butter and shell fragments.

Amber stepped back, but Jeremy’s hand lingered on her waist like he had a right to touch her. Rym’s hands clenched into fists.

“Rym, this is Jeremy Appleby. Jeremy, this is Rym Hoagland, my husband.”

Rym stood up and offered his hand.

Jeremy gave a low whistle. “You didn’t waste any time. What happened to Mexico?” He took Rym’s hand, gave it an extra hard shake and kept his other hand on Amber.

Rym tightened his grip before letting go. He should offer the guy a seat at their table, but he was not feeling all that polite at the moment.

“Mexico will have to wait. What brings you to Utah?”

“Actually, I came to find you.”

“Oh?” Amber sank into her chair.

Rym took his seat as well, though he felt like bolting out of it again when Jeremy placed one hand on the back of Amber’s chair and another on the table and leaned close, trapping her.

“Amber,” he began, as though Rym wasn’t sitting right there. “I need you. I want you to come home.”

“I, I don’t understand. Is something wrong? Did I forget to transfer things over or close an account?” She gave Rym a worried look.

“No. That stuff’s all fine.” He got down on one knee and took her hand.

Rym felt heat burn through his limbs, and his muscles tensed.

“I miss you,” said Jeremy.

Amber’s face softened, and all the air went out of Rym’s fire. This was it. This was the moment she would walk out and leave him here with an empty butter dish and dinner crumbs.

She pulled her hand out from under Jeremy’s and placed it on his shoulder. “I understand that you’re lonely, but I’m not the one to fill that void—not anymore.”

Jeremy’s back slumped. “It’s harder without you. Please?”

Rym held his breath, waiting for Amber’s answer with as much attention as Jeremy.

She placed her hands on either side of his face and looked deep into his eyes. “You are a wonderful person. You’re kind and funny, and you will make someone very happy.”

“But?” said Jeremy.

“But you need to spend some time on your own figuring out what makes you happy. You’ve already done the playboy thing. You’ve gambled in Vegas, and you’ve wasted time on video games. Jeremy, you need direction, and you want me because you think I can give it to you.”

“I know you can give it to me.”

“I probably could, but in the end you need to make your choices. You know how to do this. What’s step one?”

Jeremy sighed. “Make a goal.”

“Right.” Amber let her hands drop into her lap, but Jeremy stayed right there on his knee.

People were starting to stare, and Rym saw one guy pull out his phone to take a picture. He raised his hand to signal to their server that they would need another chair. The less of a spectacle they made here, the better. The resort didn’t need bad publicity, and if there was one thing Amber had taught him, it was that Rym’s image and Iron Mountain’s image were now linked together.

The next twenty minutes felt like twenty hours as Amber coached Jeremy through the process of making goals. Jeremy confessed that he wanted a mental challenge, so they talked about getting a degree online. At one point, when Jeremy was busy entering information in his phone, Amber looked up and mouthed the word
sorry
.  Rym shrugged, but he had to wonder if having Amber’s ex-husband show up on their two-month anniversary wasn’t some sort of sign.

He could easily picture himself in Jeremy’s shoes a year from now, begging her to come back because he missed her. In just a short amount of time, he’d come to rely on her for emotional support. More than that, though, she was his closest friend—ever. He trusted her in ways he never thought he could trust another person, and she always rose to the occasion and stood at his side. How could he live without that? He shook his head; how
would
he live without that? Rym slouched in his seat. By the time Jeremy stood to leave, Rym had lost his appetite.

Buttoning up his suit jacket, Jeremy said, “Thanks, sweetheart.”

Rym grit his teeth at hearing Jeremy call
his
wife
sweetheart
.

Amber stood and gave him another light hug. “You’re welcome. Hey, how did you find me here, anyway?”

Rym straightened up; he’d been wondering the same thing.

“Your calendar is still linked to mine. I knew you were in Park City because of your flight two months ago, and you had ‘seafood buffet’ for tonight. I searched ‘seafood buffet in Park City’ and this was the first place that popped up.” He winked at her. “I knew you couldn’t resist their lobster.”

Amber laughed lightly, but Rym could see the color climbing up her cheeks. “Okay, no more cyber-stalking. I’m cutting you out of my calendar.”

“Naw—I’m good. Once I hit Spring Training things should pick up, and in the meantime I have things to work on.”