Mine to Steal (Mine to Love)

  Mine to Steal

  a novel

  by T.K. Rapp

  Mine to Steal

  by T.K. Rapp

  © Copyright Notice

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either product of the author’s imagination or are used fictiously. Any resemblance to actual events, places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author, T.K. Rapp.

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be resold or give away to other people. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return it to the seller and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.

  Cover Design by T.K. Rapp

  Edited by Editing 4 Indies

  Cover ImageCourtesy ~ Altafulla/Bigstock.com

  Copyright © 2014 T.K. Rapp

  All rights reserved.

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Epilogue

  Prologue

  I hate weddings.

  Hate may not even be the right word to describe my absolute contempt for the tradition that men are dragged to every weekend. People think clubs and bars are meat markets, and maybe they are - for women. But the male equivalent is a wedding. Friends of the bride glance around for someone who will fit into the picture of their wedding, while crappy DJs play even worse music and there is too much pink for any man to take.

  What twenty-eight-year-old single guy willingly goes to a wedding? I’ll tell you - the one who’s waiting to see what’s in it for him.

  I wish Emogen were still here keeping me company.

  Her sister, Langley, had just married a guy I met once before, and he seems nice enough. In all honesty, the ceremony wasn’t bad, but I feel like a tool sitting here at this reception alone while she’s outside, most likely with Ryan. I knew when she asked me to be her plus one, it was really him she wanted, but I still agreed to it. Hell, more than anything, I hoped she would give me a chance to be what she needed.

  Maybe there’s still time.

  I glance at my watch and note she’s been gone for over thirty minutes. Not that I’m counting.

  There’s nothing else to do but sit here and wait. I feel like I’m in front of a firing squad awaiting my fate, but I already know. The beer sitting in front of me is beading with condensation, so I grab it to take a swig before it gets any warmer. The moment I bring the bottle to my mouth, I see Emogen making her way through the entrance.

  Damn, she’s beautiful. She’s a mess, but she’s beautiful.

  Across the room, even from this distance, I can read it. I know everything she’s about to say before she says it.

  She approaches me, and I can tell she’s been crying, and I already know what that means.

  “He found you?” I ask, knowing her answer. He’s not a complete idiot, there’s no way he’d let the opportunity to get her back slip past.

  She appears almost guilty when her eyes meet mine, and she nods as she whispers, “Yeah.” Her features contort to confusion when she follows that single word with a question. “Why did you send him after me?”

  “Because, I knew it’s what you wanted,” I answer her honestly. I have not always been a stand-up guy when it comes to women I’m interested in, but Em was never truly mine. My words cause tears to form in her blue eyes, and I have to fight the urge to pull her to me and tell her she should be with me. To give us a chance.

  Us.

  I shake my head at the thought. There never was an us, so I say nothing.

  “You’re kinda perfect, Trey.” Em saying my name sends a jolt to my chest, and I know she’s telling me I was right to let her go.

  What do I have to lose? I’ve lost the girl - which I never really had - so I decide to let the old Trey make an appearance, albeit a brief one. I pull her to me, and she assumes I’m going to hug her. Instead, I lift her chin so she looks at me, and I plant a soft kiss on her lips. They are salty from her tears and for a moment, I regret sending Ryan after her.

  The few times we’ve kissed have left me torn between shoving her out the door and dragging her to my room to see where it might lead.

  But this kiss is goodbye.

  I release her from my grasp, and she wraps her arms around herself as she looks to the ground. When I glance down to see what’s gotten her attention, she is toeing her foot nervously and muttering something to herself. I begin to feel a small pang of regret for what I did. When I gaze into her eyes to apologize she looks away and drops her chin down before tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear.

  “Whoa, slow down,” I warned the lanky girl who ran into my chest. Her small frame barreled into me with so much force it almost knocked the breath out of me. The kid had shoulder-length brown hair that was in disarray, and she was looking around nervously.

  I peered down at her, the runny nose and red puffy eyes were nothing compared to her ragged breath. “Are you okay?” I asked as I looked around to see if someone was chasing her while simultaneously checking her for any visible injuries. “Did someone hurt you?”

  “Yes - No. I’m fine,” she stammered, looking intently at the ground.

  I tried to get her to look into my eyes so I could confirm she was okay, but she turned away, as she tucked her hair behind her ear. She started whispering something and it took me a moment to realize she was silently counting.

  I’m momentarily sidetracked by the long-forgotten memory of the young girl, and when I snap to the present, I see Em with a concerned expression.

  “Emogen Kane, you’re everything I never knew I wanted, but you belong to someone else.” I wait for her to say something to the contrary, but she doesn’t, so I drive my last point home. “But if he screws up, you call me.”

  The words that come from me are the truth, and it pushes something inside of me. Before meeting her, I never really wanted to settle down with anyone, not that I was planning on settling down with her. But there was something about Em, or the idea of her, that made me curious enough to want to see what more would be like. Looking into her eyes, it confirms what I’ve already known for some time, she will never be with me.

  I turn back to my chair and grab my coat before leaving her standing at the table where she found me. As I move to the exit, I see Ryan standing in the doorway, and I’m pretty sure he saw everything that happened. Rather than be a
dick about it, I stop to offer him what little bit I’m willing to at this moment.

  “You know you fucked up leaving her, right?”

  He doesn’t look at me; instead he keeps his eyes locked on Em as he nods his understanding. Like I said, the guy isn’t an idiot. Hell, I’m pretty sure he’s beating himself up for letting her go in the first place, but it’s evident that he loves her.

  “Good. Then do me a favor and take care of her. I don’t have to remind you that she’s special and only a jackass would let her get away - twice. So if you fuck up, know there will be someone waiting to take her and treat her the way she deserves.” I pat his shoulder as I move past him and offer him one final farewell. “Good luck, man.”

  As I walk outside, I’m struck by the number of stars visible overhead. “One in a million,” I mutter to myself. Surely there has to be another, because she was never mine.

  Chapter 1

  There is something nagging at me in my head telling me it isn’t going to be my day; a looming suspicion that something is going to happen. Whatever it is, it’s not going to be good. As much as I’d love to skip out and do nothing, as head of my own marketing a public relations firm, there are certain expectations. Those include showing up, making sure the team is on track, and setting the example. I don’t have the luxury of calling in ‘sick.’

  I’m already running late when I stop into the kitchen to turn off the coffee pot and grab my keys. I know I’m forgetting something, but I’ll have to worry about it later.

  When I get into my car, I run through my mental checklist of everything I usually have, and still nothing comes to mind, so I put the key in the ignition and listen to the roar of the engine. My car is the one thing I splurged on when my company started to do well; she’s my baby.

  I throw the car in gear and head out of the apartment complex toward the office while thinking about my ever-growing list of action items. Every day, I think I’ve made strides in knocking it down a bit, but every morning, new ones are added. My assistant, Hattie, keeps me on track with my meetings and knows how to handle the occasional issues that come up, but lately, I think we’re both drowning in lists. Every time I think I have a moment to breathe, something else comes up.

  As I walk into the building, Hattie greets me with her usual cheery tone. She’s always dressed professionally, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t notice that she’s attractive. Her wavy dark blond hair is usually pulled up into some sort of messy ponytail, but it looks good. And if she foregoes the contacts for the day, she has that whole, hot-teach vibe happening. But she’s off limits because for one, she’s an employee that I really value. The other bigger reason is her six-foot, two hundred pound, professional football player boyfriend. So things are completely professional around here.

  She follows me into my office and notifies me that one client rescheduled a meeting for next week, while another has demanded that we meet today because of a PR nightmare created by the owner’s son and his recent, shall we say, extracurriculars?

  “And it’s only eight o’clock,” I murmur. Hattie smiles a crooked grin in understanding as she turns to leave the room. I make my way to my chair and slip out my phone that has been buzzing non-stop in my pocket every few minutes. I toss it onto my desk to give myself a second before diving into the day ahead.

  “Trey?” Hattie’s voice comes over the intercom in my office. “Emogen Kane is on the line.”

  My palms meet my eyes and I rub them as if the gesture has the ability to makes it -her- go away. I avoided talking to Em for a few weeks after her sister’s wedding, but then she started emailing, texting and calling. At first I thought that maybe she changed her mind about us, but quickly realized it was wishful thinking. I have done my best to stay out of her path, but she’s relentless. We have no reason to talk. She made her decision and yet, she continues to call every few weeks to ‘catch up.’

  “Take a message,” I say in a hurry before disconnecting the line.

  Em informed me I had become someone she considered a good friend, and she needed me. But what I needed, what I still need, is distance. Every time I talk to her, with the intention of making that exact point, she somehow changes tactics, and we end up making plans to meet for lunch. And every time we meet for lunch, I come back to the office frustrated that somehow, she still gets under my skin.

  It’s been six months, I remind myself before walking to the large window behind my desk to stare at the street below. I wasn’t in love with Em, but I don’t like to lose. When you want someone the way I wanted her, it’s hard to let it go. I’ve gone out on a few dates, but none of them have been memorable and all of them remind me how easy my time with Em was. But it was only easy because I never had to commit; maybe that was the true appeal of Emogen Kane.

  I’ll say one thing; all this stuff going on with her has been good for work. Business is the foremost concern for me and with my level of focus; our client load has increased to the point where I’m going to need more help to manage it. If I’m not at the office nailing down a new client, I’m at home working on campaigns and contracts or clearing my head with my daily run.

  I look over my shoulder when I hear the speaker click on from my desk, interrupting my thoughts.

  “Emogen’s here to see you, Trey.” Hattie’s voice strains over the speaker, concern laces her tone. Once again, my head swirls in confusion. I can tell she’s nervous about my reaction, considering only a few moments ago, I ignored Em’s attempt to contact me.

  What the hell is she doing?

  I check out my watch, distracted from my thoughts, but before I can respond, Em blazes through the door as if she owns the place. I have only a moment to gather my wits, but she gives me the look that says she already knows what I’m thinking.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask, because it’s the only thing that springs to mind since I’m surprised by her interruption.

  Her hands are fisted on her hips, and she appears mildly pissed off, but damn cute. Get that thought out of your head, I remind myself.

  “Is that all you have to say to me? You’ve cancelled our last three lunch dates. Care to explain?”

  I exhale an exaggerated breath in annoyance and walk back to my chair to take a seat. “Well, hello to you, too.”

  She cocks her head to the side and gives me a sarcastic smile, “Hello, Trey. Now what’s going on? Are you avoiding me?”

  “Emogen, I’ve been really busy-” I start, but she interrupts.

  “So I’m Emogen now? What the hell, Trey? We’re supposed to be friends,” she argues.

  “Look, Em,” I say her nickname, hoping to appease her, but her body language says it’s not working. “I’ve been really busy lately, and I don’t have time for any dates, lunch or otherwise.”

  “Bullshit.” She crosses her arms and glares at me.

  “Excuse me?” I ask, stunned by her outburst. She isn’t normally one to push back so harshly, but then again, how well do I really know her?

  “You heard me, I said bullshit. You’re avoiding me, and I’d like to know why.”

  This is it; this is my chance to send her away. For good.

  “You’d like to know why?” I repeat to buy myself more time. I take a deep breath in an attempt to quell my growing frustration.

  “I think you owe me that,” she demands, which only increases my annoyance.

  “I owe you?” I repeat, for clarification, shocked at her nerve.

  “Are you going to repeat everything I say? Yes, you owe me,” she responds simply, walking to take a seat across from my desk to make herself comfortable. She crosses her legs and fixes a knowing glare on me as she waits.

  “You asked for it,” I offer in warning, because I have no plans to hold back, at least not if I want to make my point. When she offers no interruption, I continue, “Well, where do I start? Let’s see, I fell for a girl who was, and is still, unavailable. I waited around to see if something would happen. She can say whatever she wants, bu
t I know she felt something, too. Hell, I flew out to Utah to be her date for her sister’s wedding and left. Alone.” I walk toward her on the other side of my desk and sit on top of it, crossing my arms and look her square in the eye before I finish.

  “But -”

  I throw my hand up to stop her interruption.

  “Does that sum it up enough as to why I’m avoiding you? If not, how ’bout if I put it this way, I’m trying to move on, and if you’re around, I can’t do that.”

  I know she’s hurt by my words, and as much as I’d like to take them back, I can’t. She raises her hand to move a strand of hair behind her ear, and I see the engagement ring is back on her finger. “Congratulations,” I say, when I stand up to walk back to my seat.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You and Ryan. I see you’re engaged again.” It’s not a question I’m looking for her to confirm, it’s an observation that reinforces why I’m doing what I’m doing.

  She gives me a weak smile, and I know she’s really happy, “I’m sor -”

  “Em, I really don’t want to hear your apologies. You have nothing to apologize for. I may not like the way things worked out, but I know you’re happy and this pretending you’re doing is insulting. I’m glad things worked out for you, but I really do have a lot of work to do, and my brother is coming in to town this afternoon.”

  “Oh, right,” she says with a weak tone. “I’ll let you get back to it, then.” She stands up and adjusts her purse over her shoulder before she starts to walk out of my office. She turns back to look me and I close my eyes, ready for this whole exchange to be over with. “It’s just, well, I miss you. But I guess that’s selfish of me to expect you to want to be around me after everything.”

  I run a frustrated hand through my hair and glance up to the ceiling hoping to find answers or the words to make her understand. But there’s nothing. When my eyes fall on her again, she’s wringing her hands together nervously and appears embarrassed by her own words. I can tell from the uneasiness in her tone I’ve hurt her feelings and while a part of me wants to make some grand gesture, anything to make her look at me the way I see her, I can’t bring myself to do it. I’ve never begged a woman to be with me, and I’m not about to start now. Especially when she so clearly has other ideas. Regardless, this conversation has gone on long enough.