Page 12

MERIT

I lean forward, unable to control my shock. “ This is your house?”

Holt gives me one of his sexy side glances. “Yeah.”

I sink back on the leather seat of his truck, all pissed off. “See? Just like I said, obscenely rich.”

He chuckles. “I thought we already went over this, Mer.”

“We did,” I say, pouting. “That doesn’t mean I like it, though.”

We come from two different worlds. When will he realize that? I’ve already been through this with Edward. And we all know how that turned out.

I feel like I’m constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop. For Holt to show his real colors. I’m ready to bolt the second that happens, but for now, he keeps reeling me in. He really has me thinking he’s different.

Different than Edward and all his rich and powerful friends.

But I spent eight years with Edward. Eight long years between our first date and the time we separated. Eight years in his world, trying to get along with his family and his friends, and trying not to continually piss him off or embarrass him. And from what I’ve seen, as soon as people hit six digits in their bank account, they become complete A-holes.

And Holt has way more than six digits in his bank account.

He turns into the long driveway and stops, pointing at the beautiful mansion. “This house actually belonged to Ella’s parents. Ella and my other cousin, Carrie, grew up here. When my aunt and uncle passed away, Ella sold the house to me. So, I got it at a really fair price. In fact, I refused to go as low as she wanted. Her only contingency was that I completely remodel and redecorate it. That’s what I’ve spent the last year doing. In fact, construction just finished before Anna’s birthday party a few weeks ago.”

So that’s why he mentioned always having parties at his house—because he has the most room. But all those juicy details spark my attention, even though I don’t want them to. “Remodel it? Why would she want you to completely remodel it? Was it ugly before?”

Holt’s eyes dance in good humor. He knew that comment would spark my curiosity.

Damn him.

“Ella had a very complicated relationship with her parents, my aunt and uncle. Let’s just say they weren’t the best parents. Or the best people. Plus, this is where Carrie lived.” He somberly blinks a couple of times and runs his fingers across his chin. “This house had too many bad memories, and we wanted nothing but happy memories from here on out—for Ella and her new family, for my whole family, for Ridge and Cullen.” He shrugs. “A fresh slate.”

Without thinking, I reach over and touch his thigh. “I saw it online. When I finally searched your name, articles about your cousin pulled up. I should’ve waited for you to tell me about her. I’m sorry I snooped. And I’m sorry your family had to go through that.”

Holt’s cousin, Carrie, went missing fourteen years ago this past Fourth of July. Apparently, she got hooked on prescription opioids after a knee surgery and eventually started selling drugs. Let’s just say, things didn’t end well.

He stares at my hand, and I suddenly realize I’m still touching him. Before I have a chance to remove it, he wraps his fingers around mine, tethering me to him. “It’s not snooping if it’s public knowledge.” He smiles softly, and I can see his mind literally traveling back to a happier time. After a minute, he shakes his head, clearing his thoughts. “Anyway, it won’t be long, and you’ll be able to read about the true story. Some of those internet articles have the ‘facts’,” he uses his free hand to make air quotes, “all mixed up.”

“The true story?”

“Ella just finished writing a book. Finished it today, as a matter of fact.”

“She wrote a book? To tell the story of her sister? What a wonderful accomplishment. There’s no better way to fight for someone than to tell the truth.”

He bites back a smile and puts the truck in drive again. “You should tell her that.”

I frown. But it’s not like I know Ella. Shrugging, I don’t bother to point out the obvious. “Uh. Okay.”

We round the corner, and what shocks me even more than the beauty of the massive house is the line of cars. “Holy crap, you own a lot of cars.” I snatch my hand away from his. “Holt, this can’t be healthy. You have an obsession. Why on earth do you need so many cars?”

He snakes around the huge driveway and pulls into one of the garage bays. He laughs. “All I have is this truck and my old truck over there.” He points to a pickup that’s several years older with a few dings on the side. “These other vehicles aren’t mine.”

I furrow my brow. “Then why are they here?”

He licks his lips. “Because they belong to my family.”

“Why is your family storing their—” All of a sudden, my brain starts to function, making me feel like a complete idiot. My eyes widen in horror. “Your family is here ? Tonight? Your family is here at your house? Tonight ?”

“Yep.”

I cover my face with my hands, mumbling unfiltered words through my fingers. “Holy shit, Holt. Why didn’t you tell me your family was gonna be here? You could’ve invited me to see your place a different night.”

“Well, that would defeat the purpose of having you meet my family.”

He wants me to meet his family. “You want me to meet your family?”

Holt leans back against his door, watching me in amusement. “Why are you acting so shocked?”

“Because that’s a shocking thing.”

“Why? You already know Raylee and Will. And Cullen.”

I look out the window at the line of cars and nibble my lip in anxiety.

Wait. That’s a very good question, and a fair point he’s made.

Why am I nervous?

He obviously brings women home to meet his family all the time. Just take Bunny, for example. She was his date to his niece’s birthday party. And something like that is a huge deal.

Or it’s a huge deal to most people.

I guess it’s not a huge deal to him.

Not huge enough to stop him from bringing that little whore around the people he loves most. Granted, I don’t actually know if Bunny is a whore, but I like to think she is…when I’m punching my pillow at night, pretending it’s her face…and the supermodel’s…and all the other women I saw him ‘dating’.

And now? Now, I’m disappointed. I think I liked the feeling of nervous apprehension better. At least, that feeling blossomed from a genuine fear that this dating thing might actually be turning into something—something real.

And now? Now, I don’t feel special at all. I feel like one of a million instead of one in a million. It’s the same way Edward always made me feel.

I’ve really got to end this…whatever this is between us.

Just make it through tonight, and then you can end it, I tell myself.

Looking down at the floorboard, I sigh. I reach for the handle and climb out of the truck. “You’re right. It’s no big deal. I’m sorry for being a pain.”

“Hey!” He reaches for my arm, but I’m already shutting the door behind me. It doesn’t take long for him to race around to my side. “What’s that all about?”

“What’s what all about?”

He rolls his eyes. “Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about. Something’s wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong,” I say, trying to sound chipper. My efforts fail, and my voice sounds fluttery, like a drunk ballerina.

“Don’t lie, Merit.”

This mind-reading/face-reading shit is getting old. I push past him. “C’mon, let’s just get this over with.” This time there’s no hiding the indifference in my tone.

“Hey!” He snatches my arm, spins me around, and pins me against the truck. His firm body looms over me, making my anger and frustration cloudy with desire. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

His bright blue eyes grow murky with concern and displeasure. There’s a twitch in his jaw.

His sexiness is irksome.

I stiffen my spine, lift my head proudly, and stare straight at him. “It doesn’t mean anything, Holt. I just want you to know that I understand the situation. This is just another date for you, I get that. Don’t worry; I won’t make more of it than it is.”

His face softens. “That’s what this is about? You think this is just some average thing?” He looks at the house, like he can see through the walls. “I want you to meet my family, Merit. I wouldn’t call that an ordinary date. Would you?”

“Yeah, I would. I think Bunny would say the same thing.” I shrug, “Her and all the other women you bring home.”

He leans closer. When he opens his mouth, I can smell his mouthwash. “It’s not what you think. Bunny wormed her way into an invitation to Anna’s birthday party through Raylee. I didn’t invite her. I promise. I don’t introduce my family to the women I date. Not unless I’m serious about them.”

He’s serious about me? I beg myself not to ask, but apparently my tongue has free will over my body. “You’re serious about me?”

He bends down. His hot whisper tickles my jaw, sending a quaking shiver down my spine. “As a fucking heart attack.”

How am I supposed to respond to that? Am I supposed to say that I’m getting serious about him too? Two seconds ago, I was telling myself I would stop seeing him after tonight.

But the sad truth is… I know what I want. And what I want is him .

I’m just scared.

Scared shitless, to be exact.

I don’t think I could handle being hurt again.

Not only that, but I don’t wanna lose myself again. I always liked who I was.

Before Edward changed me.

Before he molded me, shaped me.

When I met Edward, I was a pile of raw clay. Unkempt and messy. I was a fool to let him change me.

Not wanting to say all of that, I say the other thing occupying my thoughts. “So, who has met your family? The supermodel?”

He snorts on a chuckle. “Again with the supermodel?”

“You’re the one who dated her,” I say with another shrug.

He dramatically sighs. “No, the supermodel did not meet my family. And yes, they have met some of the women I’ve dated, but it’s never been because I actively wanted to introduce them. It’s just been at functions where they all happen to be—football games, public events, autograph signings. That kind of thing. So, if they happen to be standing in the same room together, I’m kinda forced to introduce them.”

“So, you’re telling me you’ve never brought a girl home with the sole intention of introducing her to your family?”

His eyes roam across my face, searching me, exploring me. It always feels so intimate when he does that. Like he’s reading my heart.

We already know he can read my mind.

He smiles softly. “Never. Not until tonight.”

I swallow, and my throat makes a weird noise because it’s so dry. I swish my spit around, trying to wet my mouth. “Good to know.”

He lifts his eyebrows. “Am I gonna have to go through this kind of interrogation when I meet your family.”

“I was raised in the woods. By a pack of wild wolves. They’re not much for meeting strangers.” Getting carried away by my own stupid and corny joke, I snort. “But they sure as hell can have a good time during the full moon.”

Holt just smiles and gives me a sexy little wink. Grabbing me by the hand, he leads me into the house. And I use that term loosely. Like I said, it’s a mansion. Across from where we come in is a massive gym. It’s humongous. With tons and tons of expensive equipment.

I point to something in the corner. “Uh, is that a tanning bed?”

“Yeah, but my butt’s never been in it. I’m in the sun more than enough.” He’s right. His golden skin is mouthwatering. “It belonged to my aunt. Raylee wouldn’t let me get rid of it. She and mom use it some.”

“Do you use all this equipment? It’s huge.”

“I use most of it. I switch things up so it doesn’t get boring. I did make the gym bigger.” He points to the far side of the room. “That part was actually a guest bedroom, but the house had enough bedrooms. So, I changed that during the remodel.”

“How many bedrooms do you have?” I can’t help it…I blush when I say the word ‘bedroom’, you know, like the mature woman that I am.

“After taking this one away, there’s still two bedrooms down here and four upstairs.”

“Dang, you have six bedrooms? And it used to have seven?”

He nods. “And that’s not counting the Children’s Wing. It has two bedrooms.”

The scent of money wafting through the air makes me feel faint. I lean my hand against the wall to steady myself. “Excuse me?”

His laugh bounces around in my head. “That’s what we’ve always called it. Don’t worry, I’m not planning on banishing my future kids to a secluded wing of the house to fend for themselves. It’s more like a small apartment.” He tilts his head, “A mother-in-law suite.”

“Why is it called the Children’s Wing, then?”

“Because that’s what my aunt and uncle did—they exiled their children. They built a two-bedroom addition to the house for Ella and Carrie. It has a living room and a full kitchen. It even has a washer and dryer. Everything so they didn’t have to come over to the Big House and interrupt the lives of my aunt and uncle.”

Acid churns in my stomach. “Are you serious? That’s terrible. How old were they? Teenagers?”

“They were in elementary school.”

Shock pours out of me. “That’s disturbing on so many levels.”

He nods in sympathy. “I know.” Gently tugging me away from the wall, we walk down the hall. He points out a bathroom and an office, and then we come to the kitchen. Gourmet doesn’t even begin to describe it. There’s high-end appliances and granite and marble. Inside the pantry, there’s even a craft ice maker that spits out shaved ice. It pairs perfectly with the soda fountain machine.

“No wonder your family always wants to come here,” I say. I wander over to the kitchen island. It’s covered in food. My stomach instantly growls.

Right then, a guy with brown and gray hair walks in, whistling. “Oh good! You’re here.”

Holt introduces us. “Jeff, this is Merit. Merit, this is Jeff, Ridge and Cullen’s dad.”

“Pleasure to meet you.”

His smile is genuine. “Oh hon, the pleasure is all mine.” He turns to Holt. “I’m just checking on the potatoes and the mac and cheese.” He peeks in one of the ovens. “Perfect timing. Ridge and Cullen said the ribs lack about fifteen minutes. These should be ready by then.”

Holt slides his hand down my arm. I notice Jeff watching us from the corner of his eye. He bites back a smile. For some strange reason, it makes me do the same.

“You wanna continue the tour or go ahead and meet everyone?” Holt asks.

My anxiety returns. What if they don’t like me. A fireball of nerves erupts in my body. I tug on him, forcing him to bend his ear to my lips. “Is there still time to leave? Is that option on the table?”

Before I can move, Holt jerks his head to the side and plants a soft kiss on my lips. “Nope.”

Not giving me a chance to make a run for it, he wraps his hand around the small of my back and walks from the kitchen into the living room. My mouth falls open in awe. I can’t even focus on the beauty of the room or the comfy furniture or the world’s biggest TV screen. All I can focus on is the wall of glass windows and doors that opens to the back patio. Where all of his friends and family are milling around, waiting to meet me.

Little ol’ me.