Can't Buy Me Love (10 page)

Ten fifty-nine.

He'd prepared well. Re-created certain elements of the night he'd proposed to Bellamy—not perfectly. But enough hints so she'd understand what he was doing.

And obviously she was having none of it.

Eleven o'clock.

Thomas was nothing if not punctual. And Bellamy's family and Elisabeth knew the timetable, too.

But there were a lot factors involved . . . a lot of other people involved in pulling everything off.

Reid stood still. Listened. Watched. Waited. He wouldn't give up on his future with Bellamy yet.

Every beat of his heart was another second disappearing. Reid closed his eyes, trying to form the words “Whatever your will is, Lord” into a prayer.

As he stood beside his father's private Cessna, the sound of a car coming toward him caused his heart rate to ratchet up. His parents' dark silver BMW glided toward them across the tarmac. Reid fought the urge to run toward the car. To jump up and down like a kid who'd just found out that Santa Claus was real.

He'd waited this long. He'd wait a few moments longer.

Once the car slid to a stop, Thomas exited from the driver's side, giving him a brief, professional nod as he came around to open the door for Bellamy.

“Thank you, Thomas.”

Borne on a rush of cold Colorado air that hinted at snow, Bellamy's voice sped his heart up like a rush of adrenaline. The sight of her—the swirl of green fabric around her long legs, her silky black hair pulled away from her face—the faint scent of her perfume when he moved closer—all he wanted to do was rush ahead and ask the all-important question. But he would not ruin the day by being impatient.

“You came.”

Her hazel eyes seemed to glow with a hint of humor and,
please let it be so
, of love. “Of course I came . . . you didn't think I would?”

“I hoped. I prayed.” Reid pressed his lips together.
Slow down
. “Would you care to join me for dinner?”

Bellamy didn't move. “Where? On the plane?”

“Well, the jet will take us where we need to go. I've arranged for a light brunch to be served on the way.”

“And we're going where?”

“That's my surprise—if you're willing to trust me a little longer.”

She slipped her hand into the crook of his arm, her nearness both calming and tantalizing. “Now I'm very, very curious, Mr. Stanton. And yes, I trust you. I've come this far today, haven't I?”

“Yes, yes, you have.”

And he could only hope she'd still trust him and want to have a future with him after she knew all his secrets.

Ronald, his father's pilot, greeted them from where he sat in the cockpit.

“We're ready to depart when you are.” Ronald nodded to the younger man seated next to him. “William has made certain everything is just the way you requested. He'll serve the food once we reach cruising altitude.”

“That's fine.” Reid shook hands with both men. “How are you, Will?”

“Doing great, Reid—I mean, sir.” William's face flushed red. “Starting flight school soon.”

“I know you'll earn your pilot's license in no time. Ronald's a great mentor.”

“Yessir.”

Bellamy and he were quiet as they settled into their side-by-side leather seats, buckled their seat belts, and listened to Ronald's brief explanation of the flight—with no mention of their destination.

“Still no hint as to where we're going?” Bellamy's hazel eyes sparkled at him, a smile curving her lips.

Oh, how he wanted to lean over and kiss her.

“Patience, Belle-love. We'll be there soon enough.”

Conversation stalled as the plane taxied down the runway for takeoff, Bellamy choosing to watch out the window.

Was she second-guessing her choice to be here?

The time for explanations . . . for honesty . . . was almost here.

“Do you know William—I mean, besides the fact that he works for your father?”

Bellamy's question, asked just after William had served them orange juice, fresh fruit, and a ham-and-cheese quiche, surprised him. But then, Bellamy was a smart woman, and she'd probably noticed William's slipup when he'd referred to him as “Reid” instead of “Mr. Stanton.”

And so they'd start with William.

“Yes. I met him . . . when I worked at one of my father's restaurants.”

“I didn't know—”

“I never mentioned it.” Underneath the small foldout table, Reid's hand clenched against his thigh. “I've done everything from bussing tables to being a headwaiter.”

“Did your father think that was good experience—?”

“Not at all. I mean, it wasn't some sort of preplanned thing—
let's have Reid learn the restaurant business from the ground up
. No—I messed up at college and my parents insisted I leave until I got my act together. And until I paid off my debt.”

“Your debt?” Bellamy tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. In a card game, that would have been her “tell”—the signal she was nervous.

Reid could only hope Bellamy listened to his story and then forgave him for not telling her sooner.

“When I was in college, I started a poker club. Just for fun.” He pushed his uneaten food around his plate with his fork. “But it ended up wrecking my life—and some other people's lives, too. Some of my friends'. I ruined my GPA and ran up more than fifteen thousand dollars' worth of credit card debt—”

Bellamy's posture went ramrod straight. “Reid, are you serious?”

“My parents asked me the same question. I got caught up in gambling, Bellamy.” The admission was still as caustic as swallowing battery acid. “I'm not an addict, although I did go to a few Gamblers Anonymous meetings. I was young. And stupid. And I wanted friends. And there are plenty of people willing to be friends with someone who has money and is willing to throw it around on cards and beer and food.”

Reid paused to gather his thoughts. To pray. He'd learned the importance of that the past few weeks. Next to him, Bellamy stared straight ahead, her hands in her lap, her food untouched.

“I owe you an apology, Bellamy.”

She didn't disagree with him. Why should she? He owed her multiple apologies.

“Please forgive me for not telling you about my past sooner. I wanted to put it behind me—to forget it ever happened. Foolish, I know. And if you can, please forgive me for overreacting when you told me about buying the second wedding gown. If anyone should have understood you, it should have been me. Instead, I was a hypocrite.”

• • • 

Bellamy had been able to allow Reid to escort her onto the jet—not even knowing where they were going—because she thought she knew who he was.

But apparently she didn't know Reid Stanton. Not at all.

She loved him—but she didn't know him.

Where did their relationship go from here?

Reid asked for her forgiveness. Was that all today was about? Reid asking for forgiveness and her granting him it?

Echoes of the argument that had broken their engagement—that had shattered her self-worth for what seemed like the thousandth time—sounded in her head.

“Understand what? That my fiancée doesn't know how to handle money?”

“How am I supposed to explain this to my parents?”

“I think it's best if I handle our finances—”

But if she replayed those verbal attacks, she'd only be pulled back to who she'd been. And she wasn't that woman anymore.

And Reid wasn't the man who'd made such poor choices anymore, either.

“Yes, Reid. I forgive you.” Bellamy reached across the narrow aisle to him. “And thank you for telling me.”

Reid moved his hand to cover hers. “Bellamy, I wanted to face my past so that there's hope for us to have a future together again.”

“That's the reason I came today.” The admission slipped out before she could stop it. But it was the truth. “I can't deny everything you're telling me has shocked me—”

“I can only imagine.” Reid wove their fingers together. “I thought it was best to put it all behind me. To forget it. But my friend Garrett told me none of this was behind me because it was still affecting me. Affecting us. I made a huge mistake—and I regret it.”

“I forgive you, Reid.”

“Knowing that, I can't wait until we get to—” Reid covered his mouth with his hand.

“Where? Until we get to where?”

“Oh, no. That was a close call. You're not the only one who can be impulsive.”

“I'm beginning to see that, Mr. Stanton.”

FOURTEEN

N
ew York.

Reid had flown them to New York City.

“Reid, we haven't been back here since—”

“Since we were here with our mothers, planning our wedding.” Reid helped her out of the taxi, paid the driver, and led her toward the Belvedere Castle in Central Park.

“What are we doing here?”

“Wait and see.”

It was an unusually warm day in the city, and the park was filled with people strolling and running along the pathways. One woman advanced toward them—and then Bellamy realized she carried a camera and a small leather duffel bag.

“Is that Francine Frey?”

“Why yes, yes, it is. What could she be doing here?”

The photographer greeted them both with a hug.

“Bellamy, you look gorgeous—green is your color.” She straightened the collar of Reid's leather jacket. “I see your mother dressed you, Reid.”

“Oh, thanks for that. Actually, I Skyped with Lydia and she helped me with this outfit.”

Francine handed the duffel off to Reid. “I brought a few props with me. I'm set up along the Ramble—my assistant is waiting for us. Let's get going with this photo shoot!”

Asking forgiveness . . . and a photo shoot? Reid Stanton being impulsive? Bellamy's world was tilted off its axis, but she wasn't complaining.

The next two hours, Francine was in charge. She photographed them walking along the maze of woodland trails in Central Park, and then led them to Belvedere Castle to take some photos of them up on one of the balconies. Then the photographer hailed a taxi. The next stop was a spot along the Brooklyn Bridge, where she took photos of Bellamy snuggled in Reid's embrace against the backdrop of the Manhattan skyline just as the sun started to set behind the buildings.

“Having fun?” Reid's teasing whisper in her ear sent a delicious warmth down her neck.

Was he going to kiss her?

“Yes—so much fun!” She turned her face so that their lips were scant inches apart.

“Wonderful.” Reid's blue eyes darkened, his arms tightening around her waist. “There's more of that to come!”

“Come on, you two!” Francine's cheerful summons broke the spell. “This is not the time for kissing.”

Reid moved away and followed Francine to the waiting taxi. As far as Bellamy was concerned, the woman was wrong. That was the perfect time for kissing—even one little kiss.

Bellamy gasped when the taxi pulled up outside FAO Schwarz, the world-famous toy store.

“We're coming here?”

“I realized we missed this the first time we visited the city. An oversight on my part.” Reid handed the driver his credit card, waiting while he ran it through the machine. “This is to cover the other woman's fare home—and she'll make sure to add in a generous tip.”

Bellamy bent down to talk to the woman who remained in the taxi. “You're not coming with us, Francine?”

“I'll take one more photo from here of the real-life toy soldier ushering the two of you into the store, and then I'm officially off the clock. It's been grand seeing you again.”

Bellamy turned a full circle in the store's main hallway. “The only time I've ever seen this store was in the Tom Hanks movie
Big
, when he danced on the piano mat.”

“Well then, let's go dance, shall we?”

Bellamy stopped walking. “You are kidding me.”

“I had thought of arranging for a guided tour by a toy soldier, but decided we could have more fun if we went where we wanted, when we wanted. Are you game?”

She grabbed his hand. “Absolutely. And I will dance you into the ground, Reid Stanton.”

Two hours later, they'd wound their way up and down stairs, past the doll department and the Newborn Nursery, where children could “adopt” a baby. The book department, with its illuminated display of past FAO Schwarz catalog covers. And the Muppet Whatnot Workshop, where Bellamy convinced Reid to create a puppet.

Even though she was exhausted, Bellamy couldn't leave yet. “We haven't been to the stuffed animal section yet.”

“No, we seem to keep missing that.” Reid's hand was warm around hers. “How about we make that our last stop?”

“Sounds perfect.”

The department overflowed with the voices and laughter of children and adults alike. A menagerie of stuffed animals lined the displays. Ducks and piggies. Lions and long-legged giraffes. Rabbits and reptiles. Dogs and cats. And bears, bears, bears.

“Would you like to choose one?”

“How do you choose just one?”

“Well, we could always fill the back of the jet—”

“I don't think so.”

Reid plucked from the assortment a plush chocolate-brown Lab puppy wearing a blue ribbon. “Well, how about this one, for my favorite dog groomer?”

“It would be appropriate . . .” Bellamy's voice trailed off. “What's this?”

Another white envelope addressed to her, the same as all the others, was tied around the stuffed animal's neck.

“Reid?”

Reid shook his head, hands held high. “It's got your name on it, not mine.”

“Very funny.”

Her fingers trembled as she tore open the envelope.

Belle-love,

Shall we go see the Christmas tree at Rockefeller Plaza?

Reid

“It sounds lovely. But all you had to do was ask.”

“True. But it was a bit more fun this way, don't you think?”

• • • 

Instead of ushering her into yet another waiting taxi, they stepped into an elegant white carriage waiting just outside the toy store, drawn by a powerful-looking black horse.

“Reid, this is . . . amazing.”

He settled her into the carriage, tucking a woolen blanket around both of them. “Well, I hope you enjoy the ride and seeing all the Christmas lights—and that we both don't end up with frostbite.”

“All the more reason to sit closer to each other.” She snuggled next to Reid as he placed his arm across her shoulders and pulled her close.

The carriage driver took them on a leisurely drive past landmarks along Fifth Avenue, narrating as he passed each one, including the edge of Central Park and the Plaza Hotel and Tiffany's. As they drew closer to Rockefeller Plaza, the man described how the Christmas tree tradition began in 1933, and that originally there were three Christmas trees in the plaza. That the tree went “green” in 2007, switching to LED lights, and how this year's Christmas tree was a ninety-foot-tall Norway spruce—as most of the past trees had been. And that the star atop the tree was made of Swarovski crystals, and weighed 550 pounds.

Once the carriage drew up along the street near the plaza, the man lapsed into silence. The tree was aglow with thousands of lights—vivid against the night sky—and skaters wended their way around the ice-skating rink below the tree.

“Isn't the tree beautiful?” She shifted so she could see Reid's face—and found him watching her.

“I hadn't noticed.”

Oh.

Reid took both her hands in his, raising first one and then the other and pressing a gentle kiss against her skin.

“Are you cold?”

“No.”

Goodness, no
. And if his actions were a prelude to more kisses, true kisses, she wouldn't need the woolen blanket he'd tucked around her at the beginning of the carriage ride.

Reid's deep chuckle threw her off-guard. Why was he laughing?

“Is something funny?”

“Well, yes—and no. The first time I proposed to you, I upheld tradition and got down on one knee. I'd planned to do so again tonight—but I forgot to figure in the fact that we'd be seated in a carriage.”

His words wrapped around her heart. “Are you . . . proposing?”

“Yes—although I'm not going about it as well as I'd imagined.”

“I'm fine with an imperfect proposal.”

“It's fitting, isn't it? Two imperfect people learning to love each other.” Still holding one of her hands, Reid retrieved something from one of his coat pockets. “Bellamy, will you please marry me?”

In his hand was her engagement ring, the lamplight overhead managing to catch the sparkle of the gemstones as he waited for her answer.

“Yes, Reid. My answer is yes.”

The ring slipped back onto her finger with ease—because that's where it belonged. And then, at last, Reid kissed her.

Oh, how she'd missed Reid's kisses. Although his lips were cool against hers, the potent mix of gentleness and passion ignited a warmth inside her that hinted of pleasures to come. He gathered her into his arms, holding her so tight it was as if he'd never let her go again. After savoring the taste of her mouth, he pressed his now-warm lips against her neck, whispering, “I've missed you, Belle-love.”

Here, in a horse-drawn carriage, and with the Christmas tree at Rockefeller Center a stunning backdrop, their kisses took on a magical storybook quality—one promising the happily ever after she'd longed for.