Page 46 of Fierce Love (Tucker Billionaires)

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Nathaniel

S he won’t leave. That’s what I keep telling myself for the rest of the weekend and for the next week as we get closer to having filming for six of the eight episodes completed.

There’s still a lot of behind-the-scenes work to be done before it lands on Bellerive’s network for public consumption or before Interflix officially picks it up, but I’m feeling good about what we’ve done, where we’re at.

A second season would mean Hollyn and Kinsley would be less likely to leave, and so I’ve been applying a little bit of pressure on people to make the call early, to invest in the series, to guarantee the show is a success.

Under other circumstances, I might be content for the show to live or die on its own merits, but anything that gives me a slight advantage over a return to New York, I’ll take.

She hasn’t said a word about leaving since she told me she loved me, but she also hasn’t made a single mention of staying. And the phrase “I love you” hasn’t crossed her lips again.

It’s like we’re in a holding pattern, and I need to figure out how to tip the scales in my favor.

If the fact that she loves me, that I love her, that Kinsley loves Bellerive, isn’t enough to keep her here, her reluctance must have to do with her parents.

That’s the only thing that makes sense. She wouldn’t want to live in Bellerive with that cloud over her and Kinsley.

Last I spoke to Owen, the police were doing their due diligence on the surveillance and other information he brought to them, and so I’m just waiting for Mickie to take her final bow and be escorted straight to hell.

Patience has never been my best skill—I grew up too privileged for that. So much of my life, I’ve been able to mold or bend to my desires, and so it’s hard to wait for things to fall into place. Especially when those things might determine the course of the rest of my life.

With Mickie in jail, with a second season on order, with us in love and happy, I don’t see how Hollyn could deny that staying on the island makes the most sense.

And if she leaves but she asks me to do long distance or move to New York, then I’ll do that.

It’s not my first choice—staying on the island makes the most sense with the path I see for us.

But she’s had a life in New York for almost fifteen years, and I can’t deny that she may have some ties she might not want to abandon.

But in my mind, like always, every way the details shake out ends with us together, but I’m still not one hundred percent sure Hollyn believes that.

Tomorrow night, there’s a charity auction and gala at the palace for Bellerive’s Strays, the organization Maren became connected to as a passion project. Hollyn reluctantly agreed to attend, but Kinsley’s acceptance was much more enthusiastic. A trip to the palace is not to be missed, apparently.

Bellerive Stays is also the reason we have Henry in the house.

And I have to admit, the pitter-patter of puppy feet has become a favorite sound in the morning or when I arrive home at night.

He’s the embodiment of joy, and watching Kinsley love on him through training videos, research about food, and every other aspect that’s caused her to rapid-fire questions my way—as though I’m some kind of expert—has been adorable.

No matter what the outcome is between me and Hollyn, I’ll never regret giving her this opportunity with him.

When I get home, Hollyn’s in the kitchen baking what smells like strawberry cinnamon rolls.

The Steckle family, which was the third home we worked on for the show, made the rolls for the crew, and Hollyn fell in love.

She’s been making them once a week since, trying to get them to taste exactly like Martha Steckle’s version.

Other than her banging around with the dishes, it’s eerily quiet in the house. I approach her from behind and slide my arms around her waist, nuzzling her neck.

“Where are Kinsley and Henry?” I ask as I trail a line of kisses down her neck.

She leans into the contact, pressing her ass against me. “Outside teaching Henry some leash manners.”

“No sleepovers?”

She gives a throaty laugh and turns in my arms. “I could suggest it, but she might catch on.”

The oversize sliding door creaks open, and Henry comes bounding in just as I step away from Hollyn to grab a glass from above her.

“I saw you,” Kinsley says. “I’m not stupid, you know. The two of you are always staring at each other like no one else exists. It’s kinda obvious.”

I lean against the counter and give her a slow smile.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.

” But it’s probably not the first time Hollyn and I haven’t separated quite quickly enough, or my hands have found some part of Hollyn’s body when they shouldn’t have, or hers have grazed some part of me in passing.

We have gotten quite comfortable with each other, and I’m sure that is obvious.

When we’re all over each other whenever Kinsley isn’t around—which is a lot between her training, the friends she’s made, and her long walks around the property with Henry—it’s hard to remember to lock our connection down when she’s around.

Or at least it’s hard for me. Frequently hard. So fucking hard .

“I’m just saying,” Kinsley says, “you don’t have to pretend. No one’s fooled.”

“I was thinking I should get back over to Aunt Verna’s place to finish cleaning it out soon,” Hollyn says, directing her comment to Kinsley. “What works for you?”

“No, thanks,” Kinsley says. “Can’t you just hire someone to finish that?”

“Kin!” Hollyn’s expression is dumbfounded.

“I’m not like you,” Kinsely says. “I can’t pretend to be fine when we’re deciding what parts of Aunt Verna’s life go in the garbage.”

My breath comes out in a huff at the sharpness of Kinsley’s tone, which I so rarely hear directed at Hollyn anymore.

Some middle ground between the two has to exist. Hollyn’s emotional defenses were well-earned, even if Kinsley doesn’t understand them.

The scars are literally still littered across Hollyn’s body.

“I’ll help,” I say. “I don’t mind helping.”

“You shouldn’t have to,” Hollyn says. “Aunt Verna was our relative.” Her focus is lasered on Kinsley, who won’t meet her gaze. “Sometimes, we have to do hard, painful things for people we love, Kin. That’s just life.”

“Next Sunday, after training,” Kin says, sweeping Henry into her arms and heading for the stairs.

Once she’s gone, Hollyn turns back to the dishes in the sink. “I really hate that she just gave such an entitled response.”

“I mean, I could hire someone, if you wanted. She’s not wrong.”

“If she really thinks we’re deciding what aspects of my aunt’s life to put in the trash, that’s even more of a reason it should be a family member who cares, right?”

“I also see your point.”

“Don’t be diplomatic. Just tell me I’m right,” Hollyn says, puffing out an annoyed breath.

“You are right,” I say. “If I died tomorrow, I’d want someone who cared about me to go through my things—even if it was just to remember who I was.”

“Don’t…” Hollyn turns and faces me. There’s anguish in her expression. “The idea of anything happening to you. Don’t ever use that example again, okay?”

I draw her into a hug, and she clutches on to me, pressing her face against my chest.

“How about I help you next Saturday and Kin can help next Sunday? That work?”

“Yeah,” she says against my shirt. She rises on her toes and presses a kiss to my cheek. “I love you,” she whispers into my ear. “Truly. So much.”

When she goes to step away, I tilt her chin and kiss her, cupping her jaw as I deepen it. On two occasions, I’ve heard her admit the depth of her feelings, and I’m really praying that I keep getting to unearth them for years to come.

My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I step away, knowing we can’t do much more with Kinsley in the house.

On my home screen is a text from Owen.

They just picked up Mickie and Niall. They got him as an accessory to some of her charges. Should be enough to ensure she’s gone for a good, long while, according to Stephen.

I stand staring into space for a beat, relief flooding through me. At least that hurdle will be gone now.

Should I keep security?

I would until after the various trials. She’s vindictive. If she knows you led this, there might be problems.

Okay. Thanks, Owen.

“What’s going on? Something wrong with production? We’ve only got two episodes left. What could possibly be inspiring that expression?”

“It’s, uh… Owen just texted me. Mickie and Niall have been arrested.”

“They’ll get out of it. They’ve never once gotten what they truly deserved.”

“They’ll get exactly what they deserve this time.”

She stares at me for a beat, assessing. “Did you do this?”

“They did it to themselves. I didn’t uncover anything that wasn’t there.”

“What’d you find?”

“A lot. Too much. Obviously, the police weren’t putting enough effort in. I just sped the process along. Owen says they should end up in jail for a long time.” I hold her gaze. “Long enough that maybe you could consider Bellerive your home again.”

Color leaves her face, and she turns back to the sink. “I’m not talking about that.”

“Hols.”

“Reyes and Cruz gave me the extension on my leave for Posey’s wedding, and then… and then we’ll see.”

That’s not a no, which is as close to a yes as I’ve gotten so far. “I just want you to consider that you can be safe here.”

She bites her lip and turns away from me. Something I can’t name is heavy in the air.

“Even if they tried to come for you or Kinsley through some of their associates, I’d protect you both, Hols. If I have to keep security on us forever to make you feel safe, I’ll do that.”

“I know you would,” she says, but she’s still turned away from me. “I don’t think that’s necessary, though.”

My phone rings, and I can see it’s the video chat I’ve been waiting for from the other two producers and the director to discuss the network feedback and the specifics of the final episodes.

“I have to take this.”

“It’s okay,” Hollyn says, nodding but not looking at me. “I’m okay.”

But it doesn’t feel okay, and I’m stuck for a moment, indecisive. Even if I pushed right now, I don’t think she’d tell me what’s holding her back, what’s making her unsure we can go the distance.

With her parents behind bars, I don’t see any other barriers we can’t leap over with ease.

“Get the call,” she says over her shoulder. “I need to take Kin to get some things for the gala tomorrow night anyway.”

“You’re sure? There’s a weird vibe…”

“I’m sure,” she says, turning to look at me, a slight smile on her face. “I was just surprised about my parents. They’ve been such a cloud over my life. To think that might be gone is… it’s good, but it’s a lot.”

I search her face for one more beat before swiping into the call. She comes over to me as I say hello and plants a quiet kiss on my cheek, her hand trailing across my middle as she makes her way toward the stairs, where the faint sounds of Kinsley training Henry echo.