King's Treasure (Oil Kings Book 3) by Marie Johnston (great novels .TXT) 📗

be long-term. I’d be more than willing to work around your vacations. I have ten years of material to work with.”

I blew out a hard breath as my notes and spreadsheets danced through my mind. “I doubt I’d get much for vacations for a while with what I’m doing.” The moment I could hire another employee was a long way off.

“Dad said he hasn’t been able to find an applicant that fits the position as well as you.”

Hope surged. “He’s just saying that.”

“Not really. You’re refined and can behave in a board room and at a conference, but he’s also seen you with your boots dirty and your hands full of barn kittens.”

They weren’t exactly feral. Dawson and the guys who worked for him spoiled those things and they were cuddle monsters.

“He said several applicants want to either scare off environmentalists, thinking they’re protecting the company, or secretly take down the company and use it to land an even bigger position. But the way you talked to him about the oil world and wind energy, and how you interviewed Dawson about the beef industry, impressed him.”

“I’m not exactly impartial when I’m married to you.”

“You see the people on both sides. That’s what he wants.” Xander shrugged. “No pressure. It’s yours whether we stay married or not.”

“I have a nonprofit idea in mind.”

“You could do both.”

I scowled. I didn’t feel like I could do even one of them right now.

“You could, Savvy. I’d be around to help.”

I’d be around to help.

He hadn’t flown around the world to find me, but he had gone across the country. Was that good enough?

More importantly, he’d done the emotional work I’d accused him of avoiding. He’d done it and he didn’t want to get divorced and it wasn’t about the money. He was thinking about putting down roots, trying to find a way to meld both of our dreams together.

And he was here. In the same room with me. He hadn’t rushed off when the papers had arrived at his place. He’d remembered what I’d said and he’d done his due diligence. He’d proved himself.

That left me with only one more question. “Did you sign the papers?”

Xander

My heart plummeted. Did you sign the papers?

She still wanted the divorce. Dad had warned me this was a possibility and he’d talked me through it. Every time I’d wanted to be the idealistic artist and insist that love was all we needed, he’d talked me off the fanciful ledge.

What are you going to do if she still wants the divorce? How will it make you feel and how will you deal with it? Be specific.

The good news was that I’d predicted everything I’d feel accurately. Disappointed. Depressed. Like I’d fucked up the most important thing in the world. The bad news was that I wasn’t prepared for the devastating strength of those feelings. My chest burned like someone was ripping it open. I wanted to drop to my knees and pound my head against the floor, chanting dumbass. I wanted to walk away and keep walking. Not talking to anyone ever again sounded like a great plan.

Tell her what you feel and what you’re thinking. In the end, you can only be honest.

“I love you, Savvy. I’m ready to make this work, and I’ll understand if you aren’t. But I had to come here and tell you in person that I want you, and I want to be with you always and I don’t care where in the world we do that.” I shoved my hands in my pockets. If someone walked in, it’d look like we were having a stand-off. Her with her arms crossed and me, closed off like always. “I married you so I could be with you. That feeling hasn’t gone away.”

Her gaze softened, her eyes misty. “Why don’t you get those papers out?”

Crestfallen, I did as she asked. My stomach wanted to revolt, acid swirled to work its way up, then everything went numb. I could hurt later.

I should’ve called her when I’d received them. Should’ve asked her if she wanted to talk first. Should’ve told her that I had to mend some fences with Dad because I needed his help to un-fuck everything I’d done. Instead, I’d made her wait. That was unacceptable.

My fingers fumbled on the front zipper of my backpack. “I signed them.”

“Let me see them.”

Wishing I could delay the inevitable, I handed them over. We were one step closer to divorce. I wanted to shove my hands in my pockets again, but I forced myself to stand still.

She took them. Her expression, determination cemented with resolve, cut through me worse than a butcher knife.

She looked me in the eye, gripped the papers, and ripped them down the middle.

“Wha—” I didn’t dare read into the action. Maybe she had more official documents. Maybe she wanted more from me before we divorced. Maybe she wanted me to wait for a month before we were done like I’d made her wait.

“Where would you like to live?” she asked, half of the contract dangling from each hand and a sly smile on her lovely face.

Still too scared to hope that I was hearing her correctly, I thought for a moment. “You seemed to be infatuated with Montana, and I’d be close to home, but we might want to look for land closer to Billings so it’s easier for you to travel here. I know that you’d rather not use a private jet. But anywhere. I’ll go anywhere with you.” I took a step closer. “Does this mean . . .”

“Yes, Xander.” She closed the space between us and dropped the papers. They fluttered to the floor as she flattened her hands on my chest and gazed up at me. “I love you too and want to stay married.”

My grin barely had a chance to form before I slammed my mouth on hers and lifted her up. I swallowed her giggle and she twined her legs around me.

“God, baby,” I managed to get out while