Tonight, she’d tell him that. Tell him about Emmett. And then they could celebrate. With champagne and sex and plans for Hawaii. She turned on her heel to go back inside, a smile on her face and Marcus in her heart.

…

Marcus stood and talked business with Reginald for a few minutes after his speech. As fun as it would have been to introduce Emmett Webster to his fist, Marcus grudgingly admitted to himself that he’d made the right decision. Reginald had turned his attention elsewhere, so Marcus headed for the bar. He needed a drink like his next breath.

During his chat with London, Marcus had put in a suggestion that Cameron Designs draw up a layout for the other superstore to open next fall. He knew the building London was refurbishing in Cincinnati. Marcus let Reginald know that he and Lily would personally head up the project to ensure it matched the current design of his first Ohio store. London was impressed, and with that groundwork laid, Marcus’s gut told him Cameron Designs would be doing more for London in the future.

“Hey! There’s our guy!” Joanie exclaimed, turning from the bar, wine in hand. Clive was there, too, with a glass of his own. She leaned in and said not that quietly, “We know about you and Lily. And we approve.” Then she put a hand to her chest and blew out a breath. “God. That secret was killing me.”

Marcus frowned. “You know?”

“We know,” Clive said. “Now go find her so she can tell you. She didn’t want to blow your big speech. Nice work, by the way.”

“Thanks.” But Marcus’s mind was hooked on the fact that Lily was concerned about getting him through the speech. But her nerves over his speech wasn’t all she was hiding from him tonight. The Camerons spotted someone else they knew and moved to the side, and Marcus stepped up to the stocked bar, debating on whisky, wine, or beer.

“You and Lily of the Valley. I don’t envy you, Black,” said a voice from behind him.

He turned to find Emmett drinking a beer from a glass, his eyes focused across the room where Lily had just come inside from the balcony. She locked eyes with Marcus, smiled, and then realized who he was talking to, and her steps faltered.

“She really is sleeping her way through the industry, isn’t she?” Emmett said.

“Did I not make myself clear backstage?” Marcus asked, leaning in closer to the asshole running down his girl.

“What are you going to do, punch me out in front of every one of your peers?”

“Maybe.”

“Marcus.” Lily’s soft voice tore his attention away from Emmett, and he found her beside him, looking a little nervous and a whole lot beautiful. He looped an arm around her, but she pulled away slightly. Which pissed him right off.

Emmett raised his beer. “Like I said, I don’t envy you. When she’s hot, she’s hot, but when she’s cold—”

Before he thought about doing it, Marcus drew his elbow back and socked Emmett in the face. “No one talks about my girl like that.”

He stumbled back, spilling his beer, the glass shattering on the floor. The crowd let loose a collective gasp.

Shit.

He lowered a hand to help the bastard up, but Emmett, with the help of Reginald London, was already struggling to stand.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

“Marcus! What did you do?” Lily was halfway to Emmett, and seeing her on her way to tend to him was enough to make him see red.

“I don’t think so, McIntire.” He pulled her to him, gripping her upper arms and tugging her close. “You’re with me.” Overcome by adrenaline and just plain want, Marcus slammed his lips over hers.

He let her arms go, wrapping his own arm around her lower back and pulling her close, as a different gasp came from the crowd. Lily curled her hands into the lapels of his tuxedo jacket, moaning softly against his lips.

That. Was more fucking like it.

The kiss ended and he heard a whistle or two—probably Clive, the ass—and a few golf claps. Emmett stood off to the side, covered in beer, but not bleeding, just looking like he had swallowed a frog he couldn’t quite hack up.

“What the hell!” Lily’s two small hands landed squarely in the center of Marcus’s chest and shoved.

He felt his head shake side to side.

“You couldn’t wait until we left?”

He took in the room full of well-dressed industry leaders, and Emmett’s dishevelment, and told her the truth. “No. I couldn’t.”

She blinked, aghast. “You promised.”

“No. I never promised. And if you think I’m going to stand by while that dickhead talks about you like that, you’re dead wrong.”

“I don’t need you to fight my battles for me,” she said, her voice wobbling.

That hit him like a fist. No. Like a glove filled with bricks. All he heard was “I don’t need you.”

“I can’t believe you’d do this to me.” Her eyes filled with tears.

“I did that for you.” He leaned closer. “What about what you’re doing to me?” he asked between his clenched teeth.

She put one shaking hand to her forehead. “I…I need to get home.”

“No. I’ll go. Let you do some damage control.” He practically spat the words. “One last dare, Lily.” She froze, her eyes growing wide. “I’ll be at the mansion if you need me. If you don’t show, well. I guess you lose.”

And so would he. But there was only one way to find out if she was willing to walk away from her ex and face her fears—especially those she had involving him. And that was to go back to the site where his lips had first met hers. Where they were raw and honest and couldn’t hide how they felt.

Without looking back, he walked for the exit, passing Clive and earning a pat on the shoulder that said his best friend would back him up even though Marcus had just punched London’s new right-hand guy in the jaw.

And then he left—left Lily behind to make her decision. Either she would stay and try to smooth everything over, or she would finally trust him and follow where he was leading.

It was her call.

He was done being the needy one.

…

What. Had just. Happened?

Lily pulled her hand from her forehead, blinking at the staff cleaning broken glass and beer from the parquet flooring. Emmett was toweling off his suit and shoes, pausing every so often to glare over at her.

And Marcus was…gone.

She could either follow him and tell him all the things she’d decided on the balcony…or stay here and try to explain herself to London before Emmett started spinning his web of lies.

And what could she say? Marcus had kissed her in front of everyone. And it wasn’t a peck. Wasn’t a friendly, we’re casually dating smooch. It was a kiss. A we-burn-the-sheets-up-when-we’re-together lip-lock that left no doubt that they were horizontally mamboing with the best of them.

So now to decide if she cared what everyone thought of her…

Did she?

“Ms. McIntire.”

She jolted at Reginald London’s surly voice over her shoulder. When she turned, she met his craggy face and unsmiling mouth. His stone-gray eyes tracked to Emmett, who scurried to his side.

“Sir,” Emmett started, lifting a finger to point to where Marcus just vanished.

“I’ll deal with you later, Webster,” Reginald grumbled.

Lily jerked her eyes from her ex to the older man, who offered her a smile that actually reached his eyes. “Lily McIntire. Go get your man,” he said with a wink.

Emmett’s face was a priceless mix of worry and shock punctuated by a reddening welt from Marcus’s fist.

Joanie appeared with Clive as Lily took a step away from the forming crowd. “Sorry. I may have pulled Reginald to the side and spilled the beans.”

Lily grasped her friend and pulled her into a hug. “I’ve never been happier that you can’t keep a secret.”

“You heard London,” Joanie said, holding Lily at arm’s length. “Go get your man.”

She started for the exit then turned back. “I don’t have a car!”