Page 43 of The Billionaire's Secret Kiss

Answering my question, Holden said, “Nope. I’m not getting in the middle of those two. A guy could get hurt that way.”

“Holden—” Jo protested.

“They’ll be done soon,” he assured us. “This has been brewing for years. They’ll both feel better after they pound on each other for a while.”

The fight showed no signs of stopping. Both men were on the ground, and they looked so much alike it was hard to see who was winning. Holden and the other Winters boys might be fine with watching their two oldest battle it out in the formal dining room, but I was feeling distinctly out of place.

Carrie, our friend from school, was sitting to my left. She leaned in and said quietly, “Are they usually like this?”

“No idea,” I whispered back.

“I’m kind of feeling like it’s time to head out,” she said.

I had to agree. The fight showed no signs of slowing down. If they didn’t stop soon, someone was going to get hurt. From across the table, I heard a female voice say, “If he bleeds on the carpet, Mrs. W is going to be pissed.”

If someone was bleeding, it was definitely time to go. Sending a wave across the table to the bride and groom, I leaned over to hug Jo and said, “Carrie and I are out of here. Call you later.”

Fortunately, the brawl was far enough from the door that we could slip out mostly unnoticed. The Winters family didn’t do anything low-profile. Even a small family wedding had turned into a circus. I loved them all to pieces, but I preferred my simple life to their drama and scandal-filled existence.

All I needed was Noah and school.

I couldn’t help checking my phone before starting the car. It remained stubbornly dark and silent. No word from Noah. The weather was easing in the Northeast and upper Midwest, but ice storms were scattered across the South and Southwest, exactly where Noah was the last time he'd texted.

I wanted him at my side, but more, I wanted him safe. I tried to banish the image of him sitting on the floor in an airport terminal, propping his head on his briefcase while he tried to catch a nap. Ever since I'd seen news coverage of the flight delays, seen hundreds of people in that exact position over the holiday, the idea of Noah alone and far from me had been driving me nuts.

The weather wasn't great in Atlanta, but the streets were mostly clear of ice and the night had remained blessedly dry. I drove Carrie home cautiously, waiting outside her apartment building until she was safe in the lobby. I don't know what I expected as I drove back to the loft. Noah's car parked out front? Noah waiting on my doorstep? Either way, I was disappointed.

I was still living in the loft, though Noah’s tuition payment had included money for room and board. Vance, overprotective and suspicious, had insisted that I continue living in the loft just in case. I'd tried to argue, but Maggie shook her head and advised me to just give in, saying that unless I had a compelling reason to live in student housing, the loft was far more comfortable and it would get Vance off my back.

Vance and Maggie hadn't wanted to let me go when I started school, and I hadn’t wanted to quit. For the first semester, most of my obligations were later in the afternoon, so we'd agreed that I'd continue helping them out in the mornings as well as the occasional evening and weekend, and we’d see how it went.

I loved working for Vance and Maggie and adored little Rosie, and I needed a way to earn money while I was in school. I wasn't taking living expenses from Noah. Not when things were stretched so tight for him. He'd already paid my tuition. That was more than enough.

I stripped off my cocktail dress, let down my hair, and crawled into bed, hoping I'd have news from Noah by morning.

An insistent buzzing woke me from a deep sleep. I rolled over and sat up, squinting into the darkness, trying to make sense of the obnoxious sound filling the loft.

The door!

I lurched out of bed in the dark, half-tripping over a pair of shoes I'd left on the floor, and raced for the video screen by the elevator. Clicking the button to bring it to life, my heart leaped in my chest.

Noah. He looked exhausted and wet, but it was Noah. I hit the button to unlock the door and jumped into the freight elevator. When the doors opened on the first level, he was there.

I threw myself into his arms, planting kisses everywhere I could reach—his forehead, his cheeks, his neck, his collarbone, his lips. My mouth moved over his skin as I murmured his name,Noah, Noah, Noah.

Finally, I pulled back to ask, “How did you get here?"

His arms closed around me, holding me tightly as he dropped his head and took a deep breath. Exhaling, he stepped back and looked down at me.

"You don't want to know. Let's just say I had to promise our firstborn to get a rental car and the roads are a fucking mess."

Belatedly, I realized not only was he wet, but he was freezing cold. More icy rain. Reaching up to brush his damp hair off his face, I said, “Were you out there driving in this? Noah! What if you'd been in an accident?"

"I wasn't. And I'm here. It took me three days, but I'm here." Backing me into the elevator, he pressed the button to take us to the second floor and eyed me from head to toe, taking in my flushed cheeks, my tangled hair, and my nightgown, a barely-there navy blue silk slip. "You normally answer the door dressed like that?" he asked.

"Only when it's you."

I twined my fingers with his, alarmed at how cold they were. "You drove here? Didn't your car have heat?"