Saltwater Kisses: A Billionaire Love Story (The Kisses Series Book 1) (20 page)

Dean put the groceries in the mini fridge as I changed in the bathroom. It felt good to get out of my scrubs and into real clothes again. Just changing made the world feel a little better. I ran a brush through my hair before pulling it up into a messy bun and throwing a hat on my head. I didn’t want to wear the wig. I was tired of being fake.

I stepped out and Dean did a once over, handing me a pair of sunglasses before deciding I looked nondescript enough to venture outside. I was beginning to feel excited about seeing the trees. There was a river that ran along the park, and I remembered ducklings and goslings playing in the grass under the pink and white blossoms. Dean nodded his approval as I slid on sneakers, a smile starting to form on my lips. This was the happiest I had felt since I arrived.

I got a head start out the door, knowing Dean would shadow me quietly. He was my bodyguard after all, but I was going to pretend like he wasn’t there and he was going to let me. I felt a weight lift off my shoulders as I stepped out of the main lobby and into the spring sunshine.

It only took a minute to walk down to the river, following a path towards a forest of flowering trees. I could see bikes and runners working their way around the lake across the street, everyone smiling and waving in the spring sunshine.

I walked slowly, letting the sunshine warm my bones. The air was cool, but with a heat of something warmer coming, the sweet scent of apple blossoms filling my mind. The river gurgled gently as I walked, singing of the end of winter and the journey to the sea.

The path diverged from the river and headed towards the pink and white blossoming trees. I could see small flowers dancing on gentle breezes, twirling and spinning from their branches onto carpets of pink and white. Birds chirped in the trees. The world was quiet and peaceful.

I walked slowly through the trees, absorbing the sweet perfume of the flowers, and soaking in the warm sunshine. For the first time in days, I felt like things might get better. I could survive this. I didn’t need Jack Saunders. In the sunshine and falling petals, I could almost believe the lie.

I wandered off the path, traipsing through the fallen petals and grass to a tree in the corner of the park. I sat down, feeling the rough bark pull at my jacket as I leaned back against it. I wished I knew how to paint, because this was something worth painting. The trees danced in swirls of pink and white, contrasting the pale blue of the sky and the dark blue of the river. Green grass peeked up through the fallen flowers and thick brown trunks rose from the ground. A gosling tottered behind its black and gray mother, trying to mimic her wobbly gait.

“You always seem to pick the spots with the best view,” a deep voice said from the other side of the tree. My chest tightened and for a moment I couldn’t breathe as I dared to hope. A sandy head peeked around the low gnarled branches, hazel eyes bright against the blossoms.

“I don’t pick them. They pick me,” I said softly. I was surprised I could speak at all. A war of emotions was waging within my head. Part of me was still angry at the hurt he had caused, part of me was afraid this was all in my mind, but most of me was lost in love. He sat down next to me, leaning against the rough tree bark.

The universe seemed to hold its breath. He was close enough to touch, our knees and shoulders barely inches from touching, yet far enough that it would require movement. I knew he was there for me, there was no other reason for him to be at Water Works Park in Iowa, but I still couldn’t believe it.

“I need to apologize,” he said softly, staring out at the river. A pink blossom floated down gently and landed in his hair. “My mother told me you tried to return the money when she first gave it to you. The things I said, they were cruel... and untrue.”

I nodded, barely daring to blink for fear he might vanish. I couldn’t speak, the words too big to even fit in my mouth. He took a deep breath.

“You’ve been gone less than a week and I can’t get you out of my head. I can’t concentrate and I don’t sleep without knowing you are safe and nearby. I miss you at dinner. I can’t concentrate at work because I know you won’t be there.” He played with a flower at his feet. “I have always been alone, but I don’t want to be alone—I can’t be alone without you anymore.”

He turned and looked at me, his hazel eyes almost green today. They captured me, held me in their depths so that I didn’t need to breathe. His hands reached for mine, and I wasn’t sure which one of us was trembling more, but together we were strong.

“I love you, Emma.”

I didn’t think. I leaned forward and kissed him. I kissed him like it was the only thing that mattered in this world, like we were the only people in all of creation and we existed solely for this kiss. Time stood wondrously still and somehow flew by at the same time as our lips connected and my world righted itself.

“I love you too,” I whispered as we broke apart. His smile rivaled the sun. I would have traded the moon and the stars for that smile. He brushed a blossom from my hair, letting his fingers then trace the line of my jaw before bringing me to him for a second kiss. If the first one was good, this one blew it out of the water. Every fiber in my being trembled with happiness.

He pulled me close to him, our bodies touching as he held me. Pink flowers floated gently to the ground, dancing around us with joy at our reunion. The sun was brighter and the sky bluer. His arms wrapped around me, filling me with warmth and joy. I leaned into him and he softly kissed my head as we looked out at the lake and the falling blossoms, the world falling back into place.

T
he sand is warm beneath my toes, the sun shining down happily and making everything bright. A light breeze off the ocean ruffles my dress as I smile at my dad and take his arm. He looks so proud as he turns to guide me towards the water and to the man I love.

Jack stands by the ocean in white linen, apparently at ease to everyone but me. I can see the way his jaw is tightened, the slight clench in his hand and the perfect posture despite appearing at ease. He relaxes slightly as our eyes meet, the tension melting as he smiles at me like I am the most beautiful thing he has ever seen.

I’m next to Jack before I can even take a breath, my father kissing me softly on the cheek and shaking Jack’s hand before leaving me. I can’t stop the blush that floods my cheeks as I look at Jack, the sheer happiness radiating out of him infectious. He holds out a hand for mine, and as our hands connect, I’m not nervous anymore. My world is exactly the way it is supposed to be.

The minister begins speaking, but I’m not paying attention to him. I can hear sniffling behind me, and Mrs. Saunders keeps dotting at her eyes with a soft white handkerchief. My own mother is leaning her head to my father’s shoulder, tears falling unabashedly down her face. My father’s eyes are bright with tears and his feet covered in fine white sand from walking me to where I now stand.

Jack smiles and I am back to him. He is all that matters today. I can’t help but smile, can’t help but feel this joy flooding through me. We are two people in love, finally getting married.

Jack takes my hand and slides on a ring. It isn’t big or gaudy—a simple diamond in a simple white gold setting. He promises to love me forever. I promise the same and slide a simple matching man’s ring onto his left hand. I know I am shaking, but it is with love and happiness. The minister has us repeat his words, but they are just words. I am looking at Jack, our eyes telling one another more than words ever could.

I can hear cameras clicking, but I don’t care. They are allowed to be here this time. I don’t care how much my dress costs, what the ring looks like or what color the flowers are. Today is for me and Jack. All I care about is that those hazel eyes are holding mine. All I care about is this joy between us, this joy that is ours alone. The joy that we are choosing to share with those we love, as we are wed in truth.

K
rista Lakes would like to thank you for reading and enjoying "Saltwater Kisses: A Billionaire Love Story". As a special bonus to her readers, she has released “Kisses For Jack”, a novella that tells the first half of this book from Jack's point of view. She hopes you will enjoy it!

“T
hey always do that, don't they?” Owen Parker had slurred as Jack Saunders half-carried him out of the bar and back toward the house. “They just want us for something, and it's never just us.”

“I hear ya, buddy,” Jack agreed, shifting Owen's weight more evenly across his shoulders. Jack was still slightly surprised that the girl had only been interested in drinks from Owen. As far as men went, most women thought Owen was beautiful. Tall, blonde, blue eyes and built like a viking, Owen never seemed to lack for feminine interest.
Just goes to show
, Jack thought,
there's no accounting for taste.

Jack wasn't bad looking himself. Tall, with sandy hair that always seemed to be falling into his hazel eyes, he liked to run and kept himself in fighting shape. Every magazine article said he was a catch. He sometimes wondered if that was referring to his physique and handsome appearance, or to the fact that he owned a multi-billion dollar oil company. Either way, girls always seemed to flock to them, though they never seemed to stay.

“How you doing, Owen?” Jack asked. He didn't regret going out to the small local bar, but he was a little disappointed at just how drunk his friend had gotten. While Jack sipped on a simple jack and diet, Owen had found a pretty little blonde who had promptly drunk him under the table. The girl then went on to find another willing suitor to buy her drinks. Once Owen's desire to pay for her beverages stopped, so did her interest.

“Dude, I think Brandy's bad news,” Owen said, stopping in his tracks and nearly pulling Jack over. Owen's face was pale and the sweat on his forehead gleamed a little in the moonlight.

Brandy. Thinking about her made Jack's blood pressure rise to levels requiring a doctor. Bringing her on his “boys” trip had most certainly been a mistake, but he couldn't figure out where he had gone wrong. The sexual tension in the office had been palpable, but out on vacation all she did was grate on his nerves. He had been grateful when her headache had kept her in for the night.

“Come on, Owen,” Jack said. “I know you aren't the biggest fan of her, but give her a chance.”

Owen's lips thinned and his eyes went glassy. “I just don't think she has your best interests in mind. I don't like her.”

Jack took a deep breath. Owen wasn't the only one who didn't like his relationship with Brandy. Rachel, Jack's personal assistant and friend, had basically said the same thing. Only Rachel had used less nice words. He was beginning to think the relationship was doomed.

“Then again, there just doesn't seem to be any girl for us, is there? There will never be some girl that we can just hang out with without them just seeing our money, is there?” Owen sighed, then seemed to freeze up.

“I appreciate your concern, and-” Jack started, but Owen suddenly leaned to the side and started regurgitating all the alcohol in his stomach. Jack sighed. At least Owen had avoided hitting him with projectile vomit.

“The milk was a mistake,” Owen groaned, clutching his stomach. Jack rolled his eyes. He hadn't even seen Owen drink any milk, but knowing the lengths Owen would go to impress a girl, he wasn't surprised.

“Let's get you to bed.” Jack waited a moment before taking Owen's arm over his shoulder again to make sure he was finished. “I'm pretty sure Janet stocked the fridge with some Gatorade.”

Owen moaned in answer but started to shuffle his feet toward the beach house. Jack walked slowly, nearly dropping Owen whenever he started to make retching sounds. Luckily, Owen kept the rest of his stomach down for the remainder of the short walk back.

The beach house gleamed in the moonlight like a beacon of hope as the two men staggered forward. Jack had always liked the place. Technically, it was Owen's beach home, but Jack had stayed enough times that it felt like his own. The house was one of the few places that Jack actually felt comfortable in.

It was that feeling of comfort that had made him choose to have his “bachelor party” here. Jack wasn't getting married, at least not to a woman. The party was more symbolic of his job taking over his life completely. He knew that with the amount of work on his plate this next year, he'd be lucky to have enough time to shower, let alone meet a woman to marry.

As much as he hated it, Jack accepted the fact that he was probably never going to get married. It was just a cold fact of life. He was marrying his business; DS Oil and Gas was his life partner now. Once he signed those papers next week, he would be as off the market as any married man. Thus, the decision to throw a blow out bachelor party.

“Okay, Owen, time to sleep,” Jack said gently as he laid Owen down in the first available bedroom. Owen mumbled something and buried his face in the pillow. “You can sleep until the party tomorrow.”

He had friends flying in from all over the world to come stay at Owen's lush beach house to celebrate one last time. Tomorrow couldn't come fast enough. He couldn't wait to see the few people in the world that he didn't feel awkward and rich around. For at least a couple of hours, he would get to be “Jack” and not have to be the billionaire.

Jack went to the kitchen to find the Gatorade for Owen. Jack smiled when he opened the pantry to find his two favorite flavors neatly lining one of the shelves of the pantry and several cooling in the fridge. He would have to thank Janet, one of the housekeepers, for doing such a wonderful job. She always knew when Jack was coming to visit and stocked his favorites accordingly.

Owen was already snoring when Jack dropped the bottle off in his room. For a moment, Jack considered finding a sharpie or even some some shaving cream to prank his friend, but decided against it. It wasn't the threat of retaliation, but rather the bone-weary tiredness that decided him. The company's transition next week was already exhausting him.