He"s loved her since the day he met her.
She"s been either oblivious or uninterested.
And now she is set to marry another man.
So, he decided to let her go.
But when he finds her on what was supposed to be the happiest day of her life, staining her wedding dress with tears, needing help, he realizes he had never let go. And now that he has the chance, he will stop at nothing to show her that he was the one she was meant to be with all along.Books in Series:Professionals Series by Jessica GadzialaBooks by Author:Jessica Gadziala Books
Flashback – One week before –
“Augh,” Jules growled, slamming the receiver back into the cradle, freeing her hands to rub at the headache forming in her temples, a sharp, insistent throb that she knew was going to make the rest of the work shift even more draining than usual. Because – she had learned from experience – the worst sound in the world when you had a migraine brewing was the scream of a phone that you just knew was begging for parts of you that you didn’t have to give, and the bleep of the intercom followed by a male voice asking her to fetch something, making her realize just how loud the click of her own heels sounded on the hard floor.
Miller wasn’t in the office.
She was the only one who didn’t use the intercom.
My legs work just as well as yours do. That was what she had said when Jules had asked why she didn’t ask her to go grab the file she needed.
There was a jingle and click, making her take a deep breath before opening her eyes, finding a bottle of Excedrin Migraine sitting before her on her desk.
She knew without having to look up.
Because there was only one person in the entire office who would even notice that she had a migraine brewing – let alone bring her what she would need to tolerate it.
“Take one,” he demanded, using the slightly firm tone on her that he learned he needed to do from time to time. When she was being too stubborn for her own good.
She reached for the bottle, twisting off the cap, and throwing one into her mouth to chase down with her too-cold coffee – something she was so accustomed to that she barely even noticed it anymore.
She came a long way from the girl who always had to have Starbucks.
And always extra hot.
“Now, what’s going on"” he asked, losing the edge in his voice as he hauled himself up on the other side of her desk, something he knew she hated, but did anyway.
“Don’t,” he cut her off, shaking his head, making his somewhat long, inky hair catch the light as his hand reached out to move the paperclips out of the brads compartment of her desk organizer.
“My dress,” she admitted, feeling that all-too-familiar swirling discomfort in her stomach at speaking of her wedding in front of him.
“What’s wrong with it"”
“I need to pick it up before five when the shop closes, or I won’t be able to get it until Monday.”
“And the wedding is Sunday,” he supplied, knowing because he was, of course, invited. As was the whole office. Even Gunner. Who no more wanted to go than she wanted him to come, but he would. Because his girl would make him.
“And Quin wants me to sit in with his client at four-thirty to take notes.”
“I’ll grab it,” he offered, automatically, knee-jerk, as she was convinced kindness always was to him, selflessness.
“No,” she said automatically, emphatically, fighting back the stab of guilt inside.
He was the last person in the world she could ask to pick up her wedding dress.
She could call her mom.
Or one of her aunts.
Maybe even Miller if she was in town.
“Consider it done,” he told her, jumping off her desk, giving her one of his sweet smiles, rushing off before she could deny him again.
She felt it then, replacing the guilt as he walked out the front door, a sensation not wholly unfamiliar around Kai.
An odd, tight feeling across her chest, something she never let herself analyze, finding herself oddly afraid of what she would find if she tried.
So she refused to.
And she went to take notes for her boss, finding her dress hanging in its pretty pearl-colored garment bag on the rack by the door, Kai gone for the evening.
It was really happening, she realized as she unzipped the bag slightly to see the dress.
She was really getting married.
And that dropping feeling in her belly"
Yeah, she was just choosing not to analyze that either.
She was getting married.
She was getting married to another guy.
And I couldn’t get my tie tied as I stood in the mirror, looking at a face made almost unfamiliar with the new short crop of my hair that I had cut on a lark the night before, not sure where the impulse came from, just needing a change, just maybe hoping it would signal a new start.
Even if a new start was the last thing in the world I wanted.
Everything was changing.
Like a kid whose parents were splitting up, I was hung up on the little things, the way life would be different than it had before.
She’d belong to another man.
One who would do the errands she needed done, but couldn’t find the extra hours in the day to do so herself.