Chapter Twenty-Three

The train pulled into the station. Not her station, sadly. Normally, she loved train travel. So much more relaxing—and scenic—than air travel. But even if it hadn't been too dark to see anything, she'd have been too lost in her thoughts to notice if they'd been passing through the African savannah.

Chris hadn't called since the event. Hadn't even texted. Her phone was back on, and she had a string of messages, mostly from Lawrence and Nia, and one from Alicia. They all wanted to speak to her. Guilt had strummed through her at that, and she'd messaged them all to apologize and tell them to call whenever they could, whatever the hour.

She'd turned off her phone earlier to avoid Chris, and now she was checking her phone every five minutes, hoping he'd messaged. He'd left three voicemails and two texts before the event, but they were all variations on "Call me." Nothing more. Since the event? Since she confronted him after it? Silence.

If she wanted to hash this out, she shouldn't have left.

Sakura had told her the hired car was ready, and she should go, make sure she got to the train on time. Burning with embarrassment over confronting Chris—and having him just stand there—Daphne had leapt at the chance to flee. But she'd expected him to follow and talk it out, and when he didn't…

The rational part of her said she should be relieved. It was all over, and that was what she wanted, wasn't it?

But she wasn't always rational when it came to love, and even as her brain crossed its arms and sniffed "Good riddance," her heart hurt. It hurt so much. She'd wanted him to join her in the hired car. Or meet her at the station. Or at least call and say he'd meet her in Chicago. She wanted…

Damn it, she wanted an explanation, one she could accept. An excuse and an apology that opened the way to starting over.

Which proved she was a fool.

He'd come to her rescue, and she wasn't grateful. In fact, she was so ungrateful that she'd told him off for it. He was gone. Off to find someone who appreciated his—

"Is this seat taken?"

Her heart stopped as her head whipped up to see Chris, disheveled and panting, standing in the aisle and pointing at the seat beside her.

She froze then, certain she'd drifted off and was dreaming.

He crouched, voice lowering. "The car's almost empty, so I could take another seat if you'd prefer. I really would like to talk to you, though." He looked into her eyes. "I screwed up, D. Screwed up so bad. Can we talk? Please?"

Yep, she was definitely dreaming.

She woodenly moved her laptop bag off his assigned seat, and he slid into it, thumping back into the seat rest and then eyeing her unopened bottle of water.

"Any chance I could have a slug of that?" he said. "I don't think I've run that far since… well, since ever."

Wordlessly, she passed it over, her brain slowly processing that he might actually be there.

"How'd you…?" That's all she could get out.

"It's a bit of a story." He took a long drink and exhaled in relief. "First, Sakura left me at the event, which yes, I deserved. I managed to get a rideshare. Bribed the driver to get me to the train station on time, which she did, if you consider ‘on time' being ‘as the train is leaving.' I ran to catch it. Banged on a window that I thought was you, but you're apparently on the other side. The train, shockingly, did not stop."

He glanced over, as if expecting a response, but her heart beat too fast to formulate one.

Chris continued, "Then I ran to rent a car, but the kiosks were all closed except one guy who was closing. I threw myself on his mercy, and he rented me a car along with tips for beating the train. Which—like stopping a train—is not as easy as you might think. I got here just as it was pulling in… and I may still have the rental keys in my pocket." He took them out and jangled them with a rueful smile. "But I made it."

He twisted to meet her eyes again. "When I left that letter, I thought I was doing the right thing, and I did the entirely wrong thing. I wanted to show my support. I wanted to prove that I believe in you, and I believe you should be Zane. I thought I was gracefully stepping aside to let you do that, when instead I was throwing you off the deep end. And, worse, doing it and then walking away."

When she didn't speak, he continued, "This afternoon I realized I'd messed up." He paused. "No, I'd like to say I realized it on my own, but I told Gemma, boneheadedly expecting she'd clap me on the back for doing the right thing."

Daphne had to bite back the smallest smile. "She didn't."

"She blasted me. I saw what I'd really done, so I called, but understandably you didn't want to hear from me, so I went to the event, only to find I couldn't sneak in and talk to you. I made it to the event area just as you began. I heard you say I was sick, so I rode to your rescue… when you didn't need rescuing."

"I really didn't, Chris," she said softly. "I know I looked like a stammering mess, but I was going to tell the truth. You should have gotten my attention so we could talk."

"I know." He slumped so dramatically that, in anyone else, it'd seem to be an act. But his expression was so sincere that she knew it was genuine.

He looked at her again. "I'm not good at this, D. I want to do the right thing, and I charge in without thinking it through. I veer between self-confident and self-conscious, sometimes in the same breath. I'm not this guy." He waved at himself. "And I think that makes it worse."

She frowned.

He pulled out his phone and flipped through photos, passing it over when he found one. "That's me at fifteen."

On the screen was a gawky teen. A real teenager, acne and all. She looked at Chris, and while she could see him in this skinny boy, it wasn't as if there'd obviously been a hot guy hiding behind the acne. He'd grown into his look as he aged. What she recognized most was the smile. And his eyes. Those were pure Chris.

She looked at that photo and knew, if he'd gone to her school, he'd have caught her eye. This would have been the boy she fell for, much more easily than she'd fallen for the gorgeous adult version.

He continued, "If I grew up looking like I do now, I'd have more self-assurance. I'd be better with women. Smoother. Less…" He threw up his hands. "Me."

"Or you'd be a complete asshole, confident that you could smile and charm your way out of anything." She passed back his phone. "But I do get what you're saying. You look like a guy who knows what he's doing when it comes to women. You also look like someone who…" She nibbled her lip. "Might bulldoze through my heart, trusting I'll let you get away with it."

He waggled his brows. "'Cause I'm hot?"

"You really are."

He reached for her hands. "But you didn't let me get away with it, and you shouldn't. I just hope you'll accept my apology. I made a mistake. Multiple mistakes. I see that now, and I regret it, and I'm here."

"Having run after a train to catch me?"

"I'm really hoping you have an extra toothbrush."

She leaned in, as if to kiss him, and when he moved toward her, she whispered, "You could have just called."

He stopped. Blinked. "What?"

"Called? Texted? Asked me to wait at the station? Asked me to hold up the train somehow?"

He stared. Then he closed his eyes, his head dropping forward. "Shit."

"Never thought of that?"

"No."

She laughed softly, put her hand under his chin, and lifted his mouth to hers.

Chris had never had a near-death experience, but he suspected it felt a bit like his last twelve hours. Or, at least, the period from when he told Gemma what he'd done until Daphne kissed him on the train. The part after that definitely felt like the aftermath of a brush with death, the shuddering relief and giddy elation where he'd wanted to talk nonstop and also stop talking and whisk Daphne off to the nearest bed. He'd managed to get in both. Yes, their train didn't have a bed, but it did have a decent-size first-class bathroom, and no eagle-eyed roaming staff. It wasn't quite the mile-high club, but damn, it'd been good.

Now it was morning, and they were in their hotel bed, and he was waiting for Daphne to wake. Waiting to be sure she didn't bolt upright, realize she'd made a terrible mistake, and kick him out.

When she first stretched one long leg, he held his breath, watching her eyelids flicker and then those golden-brown eyes peek out at him. She reached and ran her fingers down his chest.

"Good morning, gorgeous," she murmured.

He exhaled and pulled her into a kiss.

She curled up against him. "Mmm, I could get used to that."

"I'm hoping you will."

She hesitated and then eased back onto the pillow and peered up at him through half-lidded eyes. When she chewed her lip, his breathing slowed.

Shit. Had she changed her mind?

She lifted her gaze to his. "At the event, when I was up at the podium, I really was a mess, wasn't I?"

He released his held breath. "You were nervous. That's all."

She pushed up onto her elbows. "Last night, you said that people can misunderstand you because of how you look. For me, it's partly how I look—I'm tall and fit, which can be intimidating. I'm also decisive, which makes my shyness seem like standoffishness. I don't seem like someone who'd be terrified of doing interviews and meeting people."

He took her hand and kissed her knuckles. "But you are, which is why I shouldn't have thrown you to the sharks. However you decide to do this, I'll be there."

She nodded and then chewed her lip again. "I might have overreacted about you leaving the hotel."

"No, you didn't."

She wrapped her hand around his, pulling it to her. "If I did, then I want to explain." She took a deep breath and told him about her ex, a guy she'd been about to move in with when he—

"What?" Chris sat up abruptly. "He got pissy about you spending time with your dying mother?"

"He was trying to make his needs heard, and he expected me to reach out and apologize."

"I don't care what his reasoning was. I can screw up trying to do the right thing, but there's no ‘right thing' in that."

She toyed with his fingers, her attention on them as she said softly, "He left me a letter. I'd been at appointments with Mom, and he'd been staying at my place, and I came home to that letter."

Chris's anger at this unnamed ex froze as he realized the connection. "Like I did," he murmured. "I wrote a letter and walked out while you were in crisis."

Her nose wrinkled, as if she didn't like his wording. It was true, though. She had been in crisis.

"I just wanted you to know," she said. "In case I did overreact."

She looked up at him. "I said I was scared of a relationship, and I still am. I rebuilt my life after he left and Mom died, and I made it just the way I want it. I moved to the Yukon. I designed my perfect home. I got a dog. I wrote. I sold a book and launched a career. I have a dream life, and instead of wanting to add the one missing piece—love—I'm terrified that piece will cost me the rest."

He opened his mouth, but she continued, "Last night, I realized that I didn't get those things by playing it safe. I took a risk moving to a remote location. Took a risk building an off-grid house there. Took a risk sending out my book, especially under a male name. So now"—she met his gaze—"I'm ready to take another risk for something else I want very much."

He pulled her to him in a deep kiss. Then he whispered, "I understand that you don't want to lose any of that. I have to confess, though, that being with me might cost you one part of it."

He swore he felt her heart stop as she looked up at him.

"Being in the Yukon," she murmured. "You can't see yourself there."

"No… Tika." He eased back. "I'm warning you now that I may try to win her away from you."

Daphne sputtered a laugh. "Like to see you try."

"Oh, it's on. Give me three months, and I will be her second-favorite human." He picked up his phone from the nightstand. "As for the Yukon question, while we aren't at the moving-in stage, I have devised a future plan." He opened his phone.

"Is that a spreadsheet?"

"Be happy it's not a PowerPoint presentation. Okay, so I know your life is in the Yukon. I love what I've seen of it, but my work—and family—is in Vancouver. Work from home is a possibility for both of us, though I need time in Vancouver for meetings, especially at tax time. If you're willing, I think we could swing dual residences. Summers in the Yukon. Winters—and tax season—in Vancouver."

"Vancouver winters—"

"They're rainy and cold, and you hate them. I remember that. So I've split the winter and fall between the two places. I would need to move. My apartment is tiny and not Tika-friendly. But the housing market is actually on the downswing right now, meaning I could afford the down payment on a condo in the suburbs as an investment. I'd rent it in the summer, while I'm up north."

He looked at her. "There are worse things than being lucky enough to have two residences, in two very different climates."

She pursed her lips. "I wouldn't mind living part-time in Vancouver. Nia's there. My grandparents are there. Most of my old friends are there. The issue was always Tika. I hate boarding her for long."

"You won't need to. She just needs to start racking up frequent flier points. Or we can drive. Make a road trip of it—"

Daphne's phone rang. She groaned, rolled to look at it, and then scrambled up and answered.

"Lawrence," she said, a little breathlessly. "Thank you. I'm sorry about yesterday. I had my phone off."

A response that sounded like Lawrence saying he didn't blame her.

"Chris is here with me," she said. "Presuming this is about Zane, may I put you on speaker?"

Chris caught enough to know Lawrence was saying it was her choice. She flipped the speaker on and set the phone between them.

"Chris is on the line now," she said. "We haven't heard from Mr. Milner, and I don't know whether that's good or bad. Sakura said the publishing company is handling the whistleblower, who agreed not to go public until tomorrow."

"Good," Lawrence said. "That gives you time to decide what you want to do. That's what I'm mostly calling about. Finding out what you want to do."

She glanced anxiously at Chris. "Okay."

"You can step out as Zane, or we can admit Zane is a woman without you stepping forward. In the latter case, the publisher would accept your decision to do only written interviews, with no in-person appearances or photos, but they'd prefer Chris stays on to play Zane for events and such."

Chris watched Daphne's face fall.

"They want me to keep Chris on," she said. "Admit the author is a woman, but let Chris keep playing Zane while I remain offstage. That's the price for keeping my contract."

"Price for…?" Lawrence laughed. "Daphne, your debut is a number one New York Times bestselling book. You got on there in your second week, and you're holding. The question isn't what price you'll pay for them keeping your contract. It's the price they'll pay to keep you."

"I… I don't understand. I lied about who I was."

"You openly used a pseudonym. Hiring someone to play you is irregular, but the publisher is mostly upset that they weren't in on the plan. What matters, though, is that you are making them money. A lot of money. They're already working on book two and making noises about offering on a third."

"So they'd like to keep me on, staying in the background, with Chris openly playing Zane."

"Not at all. I said that if you want to stay offstage, they'd rather you kept Chris. Having you come forward is the preferred option for all."

Daphne frowned at Chris. "Even Mr. Milner?"

A soft chuckle from Lawrence. "As of this morning, Mr. Milner is officially moving to a different imprint. Your new publisher is Alicia Koval."

"My editor?"

"Alicia will continue editing you, to her great delight. It's a well-earned promotion. She's been your biggest champion since she acquired Edge, and if anything, she's even more keen to work with you now. She's been instrumental in resolving this issue and, together with your publicist, they have plans for how to spin a reveal to your advantage. If you want to reveal yourself as Zane."

"I…"

She looked at Chris. He resisted any urge to cheer her on and whispered only, "I'm here either way. For whatever you need."

"Yes," she said to Lawrence. "I want to reveal myself as Zane."