What Matters Most: The Billionaire Bargains, Book 2 (17 page)

The warm buzz of pleasure at the thought of spending a romantic night as husband and wife only lasted three seconds. She stopped walking. “Billboard?”

“I think it has more pizzazz than an announcement in the newspaper,” he said.

Pizzazz. Awesome. Just what she needed. “A billboard announcing our marriage?”

“Yes.”

That was so not her style. And it was
so
Tony’s style. Another perfect example of why they didn’t truly belong together.

But she didn’t have to really worry. “How are you going to pay for a billboard with ninety dollars and eighty four cents?”

“I’m going to…” But he trailed off when he realized he didn’t really have an answer. “I probably have someone who owes me a favor.”

He probably did. She shook her head. “You better save your favors.”

“You don’t want to announce the marriage to the whole world?” he asked.

This was Tony Steele. He was a perpetual flirt and a notorious playboy. There was no way his feelings were hurt. Deep down, he must know this was all crazy too.

But he sounded a little hurt.

“I hadn’t really given an announcement any thought,” she told him honestly.

“You worried what people might think?”

“That we got drunk in Vegas and did something crazy?” she asked. She wasn’t trying to hurt him, but they needed to be realistic about this. “Maybe.”

“So it’s going to be a secret?” He frowned as he said it.

“Um.” She really hadn’t thought about it. “I—”

He stopped walking and turned to face her. “No, Reese. This is not going to be a secret.”

The intensity in his gaze made her catch her breath. He could go from fun to forceful in a heartbeat. “Okay,” she heard herself agree.

She wondered how many times another player at a poker table had made the mistake of thinking that Tony was completely carefree only to find that he was completely serious about getting what he wanted.

“I mean it. We can tell people however you want to, but we’re telling people. And if you don’t, I’m taking out a billboard.”

“I don’t want to know what you’ll do to pay for it,” she said, trying to lighten the moment.

Dang. Staying married to Tony Steele was stupid. But when he looked at her and talked like that—like he’d do anything to keep her—she wasn’t sure how she was supposed to resist. She’d challenge any woman in her position to say no.

“I’ll find a way, Reese. Always.”

Did she want people to know she was married to Tony? Actually, yes. He was a gorgeous, intelligent, successful, charming man. It was really more a case of people knowing that it had happened in Vegas. The night of her first botched wedding. With lots of tequila.

She took a deep breath. “Can we leave the tequila and short-term memory loss out of the story?”

He grimaced. “Swear to God, I’ll be making that up to you for the rest of our lives.”

Damn, her stomach flipped again at the rest-of-our-lives bit.

She slipped her hand into his. “We can talk about the announcement tonight over dinner. At my place.”

They continued to the gate. It was already crowded with other travelers and Tony looked around in wonder. “No way.”

She grinned. “Mr. Steele, meet the masses.”

“I must really love you,” he said, shaking his head.

Yeah, if he kept up with that stuff—saying things like that so nonchalantly like it was so obvious and he was so comfortable with it—she was never going to be able to say no to anything he asked.

Especially spending the next eighty years with him.

“Four hours apart might be a lot after all,” she said.

If he could make her heart trip with his little comments, then maybe the same would work the other way. Letting him know she liked him, was attracted to him, wanted him—none of that was a problem. And if they were going to be together, even for just a month, it wouldn’t hurt to let him know that their inability to get to their golden wedding anniversary wasn’t because she didn’t like being with him.

It was simple practicality. And a lack of anything in common. And the fact that he didn’t even remember asking her to marry him, not to mention actually doing it.

But at her words, he crowded in close and his voice dropped to that delicious growl that made her panties melt. “Let me use my credit card and I’ll get you on that plane. Guaranteed.”

“If you can’t do it with ninety some dollars, you’re not doing it,” she said, pushing him back. “Let’s go have another lesson in waiting your turn.”

They picked their way through the waiting area, around suitcases and over the passengers who had chosen to sit on the floor.

They took the last two seats near the windows. Tony draped his arm over the back of her chair and she leaned into him. It felt so natural. And so good. Like they’d been doing it for years.

One month, Reese. He’ll live with you for one month and want out.

She sighed and admitted that it was equally likely that she’d want to kick him out.

It was strange. On the surface, Tony and Jeff seemed a lot alike. Both men had money, were sophisticated and charming. But there was something more…
real
about Jeff. There had always been a touch of vulnerability there, a waver in his confidence that had made him seem more relatable. Now she knew that it was the fact that he really had nothing that he’d made or done himself and he’d been worried that someone would find that out. He was reliant on his family name and his father’s approval to be the man that he wanted the world to see. He’d made her feel special and important, but now that she knew he’d been trying to please his father, she realized that his desperation to woo her and get her committed to him had been all about him and not about her or his feelings for her at all.

He’d been acting the whole time. Yet he’d felt more real to her than Tony did.

Which probably meant she was a terrible judge of character. And that concerned her, considering she’d always felt that she was quite good at seeing past the surface.

Tony Steele seemed larger than life. He seemed confident in absolutely everything, even when he was admitting his mistakes and flaws. He owned those things. He put them out there, admitted to them all. He’d been sincerely contrite about not remembering their night in Vegas and the wedding. He’d seemed equally sincere in his nonchalance about his first one-and-a-half marriages.

No one could be that sure of himself and that unconcerned with consequences.

Could they?

“I think I can buy that guy over there for ninety bucks,” Tony said, pointing to a young man in his early twenties. “I’ll trade him tickets.”

Of course he’d been studying their fellow passengers.

“You can’t give him all your cash,” Reese said, resting her head on Tony’s shoulder. “You’re going to need to buy some lunch during your layover.”

“Layover?”

She smiled but didn’t lift her head. It felt good against Tony’s firm shoulder and she wasn’t going to be able to put her stuff against Tony’s stuff forever.

“You have an hour and forty minutes to kill in Salt Lake City,” she told him.

“Salt Lake City?” he repeated. “I don’t want to go to Salt Lake City.”

“Well, that doesn’t matter.”

She heard his huffed-out frustrated breath. “There has to be an easier way to do this. Oh, yeah,” he said. “Owning your own plane.”

Reese stifled a giggle. This was definitely good for him.

“I get lucky a lot.”

“I know.”

“I mean it. Most of the good things that happen to me are just luck. Her marrying me was lucky. But now I’m
choosing
to make a really great decision and make this marriage work.”

“What about the bad things that happen?”

Tony looked up at his niece Emily. He’d texted her
“I got married”
when he’d landed in Kansas City, knowing that message would get her to his house the fastest. If he couldn’t pay Will to help him pack, he was going to have to call in other reinforcements. Reinforcements that would work for free.

Tony had filled Emily in on the entire story, and when he’d gotten to the part where Reese wanted to live in her apartment and give him an allowance, Emily had announced that she really, really liked her new aunt.

Then she’d accompanied him upstairs to help with the packing.

“What bad things?” he asked.

Emily smiled at him as she put another folded shirt in his suitcase. “Bad things have happened to you. Your mom and dad left you when you were just a kid. You’ve lost money in your business. Your niece got cancer.”

He looked at her and thought about that as he added a pair of shoes to the suitcase. “Yeah, I guess so. But everything has worked out.”

Emily shrugged. “That depends on how you look at it. Your mom and dad are still never around. You’ll probably lose more money at some point. And I have a fake leg.”

Tony’s chest tightened at that. It was true. Emily had survived the cancer, but she’d lost her leg. “Honey, I didn’t mean—”

She put up her hand. “I know. I’m fine. I’m good even. But some people would see those things as negative. You don’t.”

“Because I’m an insensitive ass?” He was. At least at times. He’d been told as much by business associates and women alike.

“Because you’re an optimist.” She chuckled. “It drives my dad nuts.”

Her dad, Tony’s brother, Adam, was easily driven nuts. And he was not an optimist.

“I’m…” But he trailed off. He didn’t really know how to describe himself. He’d never thought about it much.

“You think that the good things that have happened are just luck.” Emily added two more shirts and a pair of jeans to his bag. “And you don’t worry about the bad things that happen. But really, Tony, I think it’s that you
choose
to have a great attitude about life. You enjoy it, you appreciate it, you like to help the people around you have a good time and you don’t get wrapped up in stress and worry.”

“So you think I
chose
to marry Reese?” He thought about that. Obviously, he’d chosen on some level, he supposed. Even before they’d gotten on the plane, he’d known he was crazy about her. But he didn’t remember proposing and he didn’t remember saying I do. It seemed lucky that he’d done it and she’d said yes in spite of him being a bit out of his mind.

“Yes,” Emily told him. “And I think you need to follow your usual pattern—don’t get all stressed and serious and worried. That’s not what works for you. Go at this like you do everything else—have fun, make sure she has fun, don’t get worked up over the little things.”

“Marriage advice from my twenty-year-old niece?” Tony teased.

“My relationship with Chad has lasted longer than
any
of your relationships with the opposite sex,” she pointed out with a grin.

She was right.

“There is one problem,” Tony said as he went into his master bath for his toiletries. He’d been thinking about this during his time away from Reese and it had been bugging him. Which was strange. Em was right—he didn’t worry and stress much and he didn’t let things bug him. It seemed like a waste of effort to regret things or worry.

Emily was also right about bad things happening to him. The most direct example being her cancer. When he’d heard the diagnosis, he’d gone through all the typical emotions—anger, fear, worry, the why hers? Then he’d gone out and gotten drunk. He’d sat at a bar where he knew no one and bought round after round. They’d gone around the bar and everyone had shared a story about something shitty that had happened to them. One had lost his wife, one his son, another had lost his job and house, another had cancer himself. At the end of the night, Tony had left the bar with a pounding headache and the realization that he wasn’t the only one who had to deal with some bad stuff and that his time in the bar had been hours that he wasn’t spending with Em.

From then on, he’d done the only thing he had control of—he’d spent time with her and made her laugh and made memories that he’d keep close and enjoy if there was ever a time when that was all he had.

“What problem?” Emily asked.

“I don’t have any money.”

She laughed. “You have an allowance.”

He rolled his eyes. “I’m best when I have money to throw around.”

“That’s not what you did with me,” she said, holding up two of the books from his bedside table.

He pointed to the one on the left and she tossed it into the bag. “You didn’t need my money.”

He knew what she was going to say before she said it.

“Reese doesn’t need your money either.”

But Emily was his niece. And she’d been fourteen at the time she’d gone through her cancer treatments and surgery and rehab. She’d needed someone to sneak cookies into the hospital for her and watch movies with her and play games with her while her dad worried and stewed and yelled at people and tried to buy Emily’s way out of her wheelchair.