The Conflicted Billionaire (The Conflicted Love Series Book 1)

by Sharon Sue Thorn

  After deleting his eMatch account after dinner the night before, he couldn’t fall sleep right away. Hopefully, Jenny’s anger would be short-lived and she’d forget about him. The last thing he wanted was to play with her feelings or hurt her, but the only fair thing to do at this point was to leave her alone and not make things worse.

  After a few minutes of light stretching in his room, Owen bounced down the stairs and opened the front door.

  “Running from something, are ya?”

  Owen blanched and turned to look at Betsy. “What?”

  Betsy motioned to his clothes, eyeing him curiously. “You’re running from my breakfast in those fancy sneakers.”

  “Oh,” Owen said, laughing awkwardly. “Not a chance. I’ll be running back. I just don’t want to leave here fifty pounds heavier.”

  Betsy laughed heartily and clasped her hands in front of her. “Good! I was hoping you’d be here. It’s nice having a handsome face at the table.”

  Owen grinned at her, his face burning. The exchange was odd, almost like Betsy didn’t want him to leave. He couldn’t help but adore her. Tough on the outside and soft on the inside, just like the cookies she’d brought out for dessert last night. He’d eaten too many of those too.

  He hadn’t thought to prepare a playlist, so he found some upbeat instrumentals and let them play in his ears. His pace matched the music, and his feet slapped the concrete in a steady rhythm. Squirrels playing on the sidewalk scattered when they saw him coming. He should have taken some of Betsy’s nuts as a peace offering for disturbing them.

  As his mind drifted from one thing to another, mostly Jenny, yesterday’s conversation with Jeff came to mind. The more he thought about it, the more perplexed he became. His friend had been earnest in his request for Owen to stay another day, but Owen couldn’t figure out what difference Jeff thought it would make. Maybe his friend was desperate for him to find the kind of happiness he’d found with Molly. It made sense.

  When Jeff met Molly and they’d moved to Houston, Owen had lost his last familial link. Of course they weren’t related by blood, but Owen wasn’t close to anyone else in the world, especially not anyone in Destin. He’d never told anyone that when Jeff found a wife, he’d felt abandoned.

  A thought pushed into his mind. Not a new one, but he’d tried to discard it each time. Time to move.

  The list of reasons not to move became shorter nearly every time he considered it. None of the work he did required him to be in Destin on a regular basis. These days, he didn’t log as many hours as he had in the past. The company was well-oiled and its employees were efficient. And Destin wasn’t the only place to surf. Most billionaires were living a life of play and traveling around the world, but Owen had no interest in a player’s life. Traveling alone was... well, lonely. Traveling with someone you didn’t love and who only loved what you had would also be lonely, and annoying on top of it.

  Houston would be a good place for a while. He’d have his friends there, and maybe he’d try his hand at something besides luxury living properties. Betsy came to mind, and he wondered what kind of revenue she brought in. Whatever it was, she seemed happy, and he’d bet she’d be willing to share her secrets and maybe even some recipes if he didn’t open competition in Dover, which he would never even dream of doing.

  He scanned the homes on the block as he ran past them. Maybe they weren’t fancy, but they were nice, and they looked lived-in.

  Destin had always been home, though. The thought of leaving made him feel as if he’d be leaving his family behind, but he knew his dad wouldn’t have wanted him to stay and mope around. Besides, he had the luxury of keeping the flat just as it was, with all his and his father’s things.

  Owen spotted a park in the distance and headed toward it. A thin sheen of sweat covered him. Now and then, a breeze ruffled his hair and helped to keep him cool. He couldn’t have asked for a more beautiful day.

  For a blissful ten minutes, Owen’s thoughts quieted, and he focused on the sounds around him. Birds, light traffic, the rhythm of his feet, and his breath, which came in steady, short bursts.

  Circling back through the park, he picked up his pace and hustled back to the B&B. In a full sweat now, he pulled off his t-shirt and put it around his neck for the return trip. After a shower and breakfast, he’d see if Betsy had time to chat and would let her know that even though he’d be checking out early, he’d still pay for all the time he’d booked.

  As he turned onto Rose Garden Lane, he slowed his pace and then walked the last block to cool down. When he arrived at the steps of the B&B, a neck towel and a cold bottle of water with a ribbon and a tag sat on the small table. The tag read For Mr. Handsome. A laugh burst from Owen as he opened the bottle and guzzled the water. Betsy had to be the most thoughtful person he’d ever met. After running the towel over his face, he shook out his t-shirt, ready to pull it on over his head before he went back inside.

  The front door opened behind him and he spun around to apologize, but he couldn’t get any words out of his mouth.

  “Oh my. Don’t put that on on my account,” Betsy chuckled.

  Chapter 13

  Oh my is right! Jenny’s breath caught as she stood behind Betsy trying not to stare at the man she had met briefly the other night. He looked even better during the day, covered in sweat, shirtless, and.... had she ever seen anyone in real life with abs like that? The strippers from Leslie’s bridal shower possibly did, but she’d had no desire to look at them. She could look at this guy all day, though. In fact, she couldn’t have timed her trip to drop off the dog biscuits any better. But the deal with Sammie was to speak with him for at least ten minutes. Her mind raced for something to say so he wouldn’t disappear upstairs before she’d had a chance.

  Fortunately, he had no idea of her struggle to tear her eyes away. The poor guy’s cheeks flamed red for being caught shirtless, and whatever he was saying was muffled as he pulled his t-shirt back over his head. At least once he had it on, she could look at his face.

  “Jenny,” Betsy said, stepping to the side. “This is Owen Kaine. I just call him Mr. Handsome for obvious reasons. And Owen, this is Jenny Jamison. I’ve known her since she was a tot in diapers.”

  Jenny’s cheeks warmed. “Betsy!” she scolded, but she directed her gaze back to Owen. “Nice to meet you again, and I’m glad you’re not an ax murderer. I mean, I guess you still could be, but I don’t think anyone has come up missing yet.”

  Betsy’s face contorted into an expression Jenny couldn’t read. “I don’t know whether to laugh or be concerned. Are you okay, Jenny?”

  “I promise,” Owen said, holding his hands up. He still held the empty water bottle. “I’m not an ax murderer.” He cleared his throat. “Or... any other kind of murderer.”

  “This conversation has taken the strangest turn.” Betsy peered curiously at Jenny. “I need to go finish up breakfast. Jenny, you should join us. It’ll be ready in about twenty minutes.”

  This is my chance! “I’d love to. Smelling those muffins while we were talking got my tummy rumbling.”

  “I’d better go take a shower,” Owen said.

  Guilt pricked Jenny. Owen spoke robotically. She’d made him uncomfortable, but he hadn’t reacted that way the other night, so she’d thought he’d get the joke. Instead, she’d embarrassed him. Ugh. She needed ten minutes with him—maybe these two would count and she could just log eight more. That would take care of her end of the deal with Sammie. Then she could fly to Florida and hunt Jeff down.

  “All right.” Betsy patted his shoulder. “See you at breakfast.”

  “I’m not very hungry this morning. Not feeling too hot all of a sudden.” Owen put a hand on his stomach.

  “Oh, no!” The lines in Betsy’s forehead converged. “Did you get too hot during your run?”

  He’s got to eat breakfast! Jenny thought to herself. If he goes to his room, I’ll miss my chance.

  “Maybe so. I think I’ll head up to my room.�
��

  Betsy moved aside, but Jenny didn’t.

  “Wait!” Jenny stepped forward and put a hand on his chest. He looked down at her hand. Ignoring the firmness of his chest under his damp shirt, she cleared her throat. “I’m actually a doctor. So, um...” What did I just say? One glance at Betsy’s amused eyes told her she’d flubbed big-time.

  “You’re a doctor?” Owen asked her with raised eyebrows. “That’s impressive, but I don’t think I’m that bad off.”

  A snicker escaped Betsy, and Jenny shot her a thanks-a-lot glare. Betsy made a show of checking a watch she wasn’t wearing and mumbling something about muffins before she slid behind Jenny and into the house.

  “I am a doctor, but I don’t usually work on people. Not that you need any work.” The smile that stretched across his lips made her forget her words. “You have beautiful teeth.” When he laughed out loud, she felt heat creeping up her neck. “I’m sorry. I’m acting like an idiot. I’ll let you go.” Jenny turned, determined to make it down the stairs without falling on her face.

  “Wait,” Owen called.

  Jenny grabbed the rail and peered over her shoulder in response.

  “I’m suddenly feeling much better. Still interested in breakfast?”

  “Yes. I embarrassed myself, but I’ll live.” You don’t have to say everything you’re thinking, dummy. Jenny turned to face Owen again but had a hard time meeting those eyes. He was so intense. Things Sammie would normally say filled her mind, and she was suddenly glad Sammie never rose this early.

  Owen’s shoulders shook with his laughter. He pointed toward the door. “I’ll be back in a flash.”

  “I’ll be here. My humiliation will be your entertainment.” Jenny curtsied.

  Owen, still laughing, only shook his head and went into the house. Jenny peered through the screen door in time to see him taking the stairs up two at a time.

  She let her forehead fall against the glass. Lifting her eyes, she could see part of her reflection. “What are you doing, Jenny?” she asked herself.

  Chapter 14

  Owen bounded into his room, closed the door, and rested against it. His breath came in short bursts after lunging up the stairs, not to mention the anxiety and excitement of that incredibly strange conversation with Jenny. At least she was the one who was off-kilter today. Watching her bumble around had been adorable. She was as sweet as her messages had suggested.

  “What are you doing, Owen?” he asked himself.

  At first, Jenny’s being there had caught him off guard. Was Betsy trying to play matchmaker or something? He tried to do the right thing and lie about not feeling well to avoid interacting with her, but at the end of it all, he couldn’t resist her. Hell, that woman was the reason he was in Kansas right now.

  Everything about her was beautiful. Hair the color of a golden sunrise forming loose, bouncy ringlets on her shoulders. Brown eyes with little flecks of green that mesmerized him. And those lips.

  He shoved the image that had begun to form out of his mind. “Argh!”

  Pushing himself off the door, he paced the floor. He stopped at the window and pushed a hand through his hair. “Okay, you’re going to have a pleasant breakfast with her, and then you’re leaving tonight.” What harm could one breakfast do, anyway? Other than twisting the knife in his own gut, it wouldn’t change a thing for her.

  He jumped in the shower, lathered up and rinsed off in less than two minutes. Then he pulled on a pair of dark blue jeans, pairing them with a soft black t-shirt and a pair of sneakers. After breakfast, he figured he’d check in with Patty, then have a talk with Betsy and get out of town.

  He took a deep breath and headed downstairs.

  From the doorway, he gazed at Jenny as she stood next to Betsy arranging pastries on a tray.

  “Owen! Good morning,” Rick greeted him loudly, making him jump.

  Betsy turned. “There he is. I would have missed you if you’d skipped breakfast.”

  Jenny spun around to look, then did a double-take. Owen smiled at her, appreciating the attention. Color bloomed in her cheeks after she realized what she’d done and she spun back around to her tray of pastries.

  “Are those pigs-in-a-blanket?” Owen asked.

  “They sure are. Thought I’d put some together for the kids,” Betsy answered.

  Owen squinted. “So, you’re saying only the kids can eat them?”

  Jenny’s eyes traveled between them as they conversed. He loved having her attention.

  Betsy put her hands on her hips and turned. “All I’m saying is, anyone who eats these has to have a kid in them somewhere.”

  “How would one go about proving such a thing?”

  “Ketchup!” Betsy picked up the squeeze bottle and waved it by its neck. “Any real kid dips their pigs-in-a-blanket in ketchup.”

  Jenny chuckled. “I dip everything in...”

  “Ranch,” Owen said, finishing her sentence.

  “Yes!” Jenny spun toward him, causing her dress to flare and wrap around her legs. “How did you know?”

  Oh, crap. “Uh, lucky guess. Everyone loves ranch.”

  Owen walked away and headed toward the coffeemaker. He sat down with a cup and made small talk with the other guests. Silently, he reminded himself not to look at Jenny as she and Betsy loaded up the table with delicious food. Once they’d finished, he waited until everyone else had filled their plates.

  Jenny quickly bowed her head. When she opened her eyes, she caught him looking at her. She smiled.

  “Where are you from?” she asked him.

  “I live down south,” he said.

  “Dan and I used to drive to Florida every other year for a vacation,” Betsy said wistfully. “He passed away seven years ago, and I haven’t been back since. Wouldn’t be the same without him.”

  Jenny reached over and patted Betsy’s arm, but her eyes were on Owen before she turned them to Betsy. “I’m actually leaving for Florida on Friday, Betsy.”

  Owen stopped chewing and stared at Jenny. She was leaving for Florida? On Friday?

  “You’re welcome to come with Sammie and me. Dan wouldn’t want you never to go back to a place you both loved.”

  Alarms were sounding in Owen’s head. He wanted to interrupt them and ask her why she was going to Florida.

  Paul spoke up. “She’s right, you know.” He took his wife’s hand in his, brought it to his lips and kissed it.

  Mabel smiled so sweetly that Owen couldn’t help but hope that one day he could have moments like that with someone he loved. He tried to picture himself and Jenny in another thirty years.

  “Mabel and I decided a long time ago that whichever one of us goes first, we want the other one to keep living and doing the things we love until we can be together again.”

  “That’s sweet of you, Jenny, but I can’t run off and leave my business. Besides,” Betsy said, waving a hand in dismissal, “I don’t have anyone to keep this place going.”

  It pained Owen to not interject and ask Jenny why she was going to Florida, but it would have been rude. Then Betsy, in an obvious attempt to change the subject, shoved the spotlight back to him.

  “What is it you do for a living, Handsome Owen?” Though she tried to inject her usual spunk, it fell a bit flat.

  For the love of all that’s holy! If he so much as said anything to do with properties, Jenny’s head would likely do a 360 right at the table. While he’d lied about his name and what he looked like, he’d told the truth about everything else. He’d never provided property names or anything, but how many similarities could he mention before she caught on?

  “I do a little of everything, business-wise,” he said. “Some management, marketing, advising.”

  “In what facet?” Rick asked.

  A string of curses flashed through Owen’s mind. “Real estate,” he answered.

  Rick nodded, but Jenny’s head bobbed up. “Wow.”

  Feigning ignorance, Owen swallowed a bite of food and asked, “
What?”

  “Oh, nothing. I know someone there who also works in real estate. What city do you live in, if you don’t mind me asking?”

  No way could he be honest about this one.

  “Destin, right, Owen?” Betsy said between bites. “Isn’t that what I remember being on your paperwork?”

  Jenny’s fork clattered on her plate.

  Owen’s bite of pig-in-the-blanket slid down his throat in too big a chunk. He tried to swallow it down but couldn’t. Unable to breathe, he tried to stay calm, but he was panicking on the inside. Beating his fist against his chest, he tried to catch a breath, but that only seemed to lodge the food tighter.

  “I’m calling 911!” Betsy shouted.

  Around him, everyone stood, and Jenny rushed around the table. Looping her arms under his shoulders, she pulled up. He half-stood while leaning most of his weight on the table. With her fists knotted at the top of his stomach, she thrust them into him. It took three heaves before the pig-in-a-blanket shot up his throat, out of his mouth, and landed on his plate.

  Owen heard several people ask, Are you okay? But he was too lightheaded to respond.

  Jenny’s arms, still around him, guided him back to his chair. He felt her warm breath on his neck as she whispered in his ear.

  “Breathe, Owen. You’re okay.”

  He obeyed the soft voice that beckoned to him, and his senses began to return. Well, whatever sense he’d had before this incident, anyway.

  “I’m so embarrassed,” he admitted.

  The group responded in multiple ways, but everyone was encouraging except for Rick, who barked, “You scared the shit out of me.”

  “Rick Flannigan! Language!” Hope admonished. “And in front of the children!” The kids giggled conspiratorially. “Sit down. I’m sure he was far more scared than you were.”

  “I about had a damn heart attack,” Rick said as he sat.

  Hope rested her forehead in her hands and sighed.

  Betsy suddenly broke out into a whooping laugh. Everyone looked at her curiously, and after a moment, Owen couldn’t contain himself and joined her. “That’s the most excitement this place has seen in some years,” she said, slapping the table.