Hollywood Love: Book 15: A sexy celebrity romance (Hollywood Billionaires)

by Jillian Dodd

  When this is over, I need to tell him how grateful I am and how sorry I am for lying to him, but when the wedding planner nods that I’m up and I turn the corner and see Juan waiting for me at the altar, I’m not the least bit sorry about anything. Warped or not, it all led me down the path to the man I love.

  And, when we say our vows and kiss, I know we’ll be together forever.

  Johnson Home — The Hamptons

  DAWSON

  Vanessa, the girls, and I arrived very early this morning, and they all promptly went back to bed.

  I’m sitting in the kitchen, staring out the window, drinking a cup of coffee, and watching angry-looking waves roll into shore. The sky above is filled with menacing, dark clouds, and the wind has picked up, the sunrise barely visible. I open an app on my phone to check the weather, praying the storm will quickly blow through, so the kids aren’t stuck inside all day.

  “Heard you took my advice. But just to clarify, you were supposed to get back in the saddle again, not buy the whole damn horse,” Camden says, cuffing my shoulder in greeting.

  “What are you doing up so early?” I ask him.

  “No freaking idea. Habit, I guess. I always get up early during the week to check the international markets. I was going to go for a morning run,” he says, checking out the weather, “but probably gonna have to use the gym. Want to join me?”

  “I think I’m going to skip my workout today,” I tell him. “Relax.”

  “Been burning the candle at both ends? Working hard at Captive during the day and keeping the lady happy at night?”

  “It’s clear you’re dying to talk about my sex life.”

  He pours himself a cup of coffee and then sits next to me with a grin on his face. “Hell, I’m just glad you finally have a sex life.” He blows into the cup and then takes a careful sip. “You don’t need to tell me about the sex—unless you’re dying to brag—but I do want to hear about your new job and how it’s all going. Are you as happy as you seem? Are the girls going to do okay in California?”

  Even though my older brother can be brash and obnoxious in the way he goes about things, he really does care. And he was there for me when Whitney died even though he never wanted us together.

  “We’re all doing great. There is something on my mind though. I need your advice. It’s about Riley.”

  “Business or women?”

  “Baby mama. I think she’s stringing him along. I don’t think the baby is his.”

  “Why?”

  “The ultrasound. Something about it looked off. I couldn’t put my finger on it when he first showed me, but the paper wasn’t right. Not like what they print from the machine. Do you think I should tell him? He was so excited about it, which shocked me.”

  “And you don’t want to hurt him, right?” Camden asks.

  “Right.”

  “Doesn’t matter. You have to tell him. He needs to know now.” A troubled look crosses his face. “Shit. I suppose I should take my own advice. Look, I have something I need to tell you. Something I should have told you years ago. I consider it my fault that you were even with Whitney, that you had to go through all that you did. I could have—”

  I hold up my hand. “Stop. I know.”

  “You know what?”

  “That Whitney used to send you naked pictures and flirt with you—practically stalk you—while she was dating me.”

  His eyes get huge. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” I fire back.

  He hangs his head and then looks out the window, lost in thought. “I wanted to, Dawes. I really did. But I didn’t want to hurt you. You were in love with her.”

  “Do you think it’s better for me to crush Riley now than let him be crushed later when the paternity test shows the truth?”

  “She could change the paternity test, too. Maybe. I don’t know.” He shoves his hand through his hair, seemingly stressed. “Are you glad I didn’t tell you, or did I completely screw up your life? Because that’s how I feel. But the longer I went without telling you, the dirtier it all felt. I didn’t want you to hate me.”

  “I’m glad you didn’t tell me. At least in this case. I was young and in love, and I would have taken out my upset on you. She would have made it up to me somehow, promised it wouldn’t happen again, and I would have believed her. It would have damaged our relationship, and that would have sucked.”

  He lets out a big breath of air, almost like he was holding it in for years.

  “Hearing it from her and understanding her personality made it easier.”

  “I’m sorry,” he says.

  “It’s okay. We were young and dumb.” I laugh. “Might still be.”

  “Like Riley still is?” he asks.

  I sigh. I understand what Camden went through back then. I also feel the need to confess something myself. “You’re not the only one to possibly screw up at being a big brother. I may have recently given Riley some bad advice.”

  “What’d you tell him?” Camden asks, taking another sip of coffee.

  “That he didn’t have to decide between Ariela and the baby mama yet. That he could date them both.”

  “Ew.” He grimaces. “I bet that didn’t go over so well with Ariela.”

  “Ariela is married,” I counter.

  “But she’s getting a divorce,” he fires back. “Are you for her or against her?”

  “You aren’t around. You haven’t seen how torn up he’s been since she came back. The board wanted him fired after the whole Vegas debacle, and even Dallas wondered if they were right—if Riley did need a wake-up call.”

  “What stopped them from firing him?” he asks.

  “Keatyn,” we say at the same time.

  “You boys are up early,” our mom says, joining us in the kitchen. “Thought I’d get up and pop the cinnamon rolls and potatoes in the oven. Are you going to work out?”

  “No,” Camden says. “I was going to run, but it’s getting ready to rain.”

  “Can you keep an eye on these?” she asks, taking the rolls out of the refrigerator and placing them in the oven. “I’m going to walk on the treadmill.”

  After she leaves, Camden says to me, “Is Keatyn pro-Ariela, or did she just need a wedding planner?”

  “I’d say Keatyn is fiercely pro-Riley.”

  “We should be, too,” Camden says. “Don’t tell him just yet. We had a good conversation about the situation, and I think his head is on straight—as long as he keeps his dick out of the equation.” He rolls his eyes. “He told me Ariela wouldn’t sleep with him unless they were monogamous. He’s decided to be celibate instead.”

  “What? He’s not going to be able to do that.” I laugh.

  “I don’t know. When Riley puts his mind to something, he goes after it. And, like you said, it will keep his dick out of the equation. Normally, I would say that is a mistake—”

  “Because sex is always part of the equation,” I say with a laugh.

  “I don’t know why you two listened to me,” Camden says, laughing, too. “We agree not to tell him unless he decides to marry her. It was one thing to let you marry Whitney; the baby was definitely yours. It’s another to let him get trapped in a lie.”

  “Dawson,” my father says, “grab your coffee, and come sit outside to talk to your old man.”

  “Do I get to come?” Camden asks.

  “No,” Dad scoffs. “I see you all the time.”

  “Yeah, ’cause you’re a lucky son of a bitch,” Camden says with a laugh.

  “Hey now, watch it. Your mother hears you say that, and you’ll be in trouble.” Dad laughs. “You’re welcome to join us if you’d like, but we’re going to have a very deep conversation about life and love.”

  “I’m out,” Camden says. “Think I’ll go wake up my bride.”

  “Means we won’t see him for a while,” Dad teases, then turns to me. “Let’s make our escape.”

  I follow my dad out to the deck and l
ook at the sky. “I thought it was going to rain all day, but it looks like the storm has broken up.”

  “Thank goodness. I don’t know if I could handle everyone in the house at once. Speaking of houses—”

  “The girls and I are moving in with Vanessa. That’s why I wanted you to meet her. I’m in love with her, Dad, and I’m going to ask her to marry me.”

  “You are? When?”

  “Well, honestly, when we first met, I invited her to come back here with me for Thanksgiving. Funny, but in the back of my mind, I knew then that I would propose to her. The plans changed with us here earlier, but I know it’s right. Her father has given me his blessing and he’s flying out here this morning. I want him to be a part of the proposal, too.”

  “Can I see the ring?” Dad asks.

  “Oh. Well, no. I haven’t gotten her one.”

  “Trust me, son. You propose to a woman in front of her father, you present a ring.”

  “Normally, I would agree with you, but Vanessa’s ex-husband was very wealthy. He gave her the kind of jewelry you see on royalty. I can’t compete with that.” I tell him about the necklace I gave her that she wears every day. “While she appreciates the pieces that he bought her, she said that they were just things—that most were simply meant to impress, that they didn’t have meaning. She’s changed a lot, and she cares more about the sentimental value than the cost. That’s why I haven’t gotten one yet. I want us to choose it together.”

  My dad leans back in his chair. Usually, I know what he’s thinking, if he agrees with me. But his expression is unreadable.

  “I’m curious. Why the rush? Why are you moving in? Why are you proposing after knowing her for such a short time? What happens if it doesn’t work out? You have to consider the girls in this equation.”

  “It will work out. Vanessa loves the girls, and they already love her. It’s…I don’t know, Dad. It’s just right. But there’s something else that I just found out this week,” I say, my face lighting up.

  My dad cocks his head and narrows his eyes, and I’m pretty sure he can tell by my expression what I’m going to say next.

  “She’s pregnant. We’re having a baby.”

  “Wow. That was fast. You forget how to use a condom?”

  “That’s the crazy and amazing part of this. We didn’t because she didn’t think she could get pregnant.” I tell him the story about how she miscarried, how her husband wasn’t there for her, how the doctor told her she might never get pregnant again, how she thought she had cancer, and how she asked the doctor if it was a sick joke when he told her the news.

  My dad is silent, which is unusual for him. His fingers form a steeple, and he rests his chin on it, seemingly deep in thought. “Sounds like it was meant to be. Congratulations, Dawson.”

  Johnson Home — The Hamptons

  RILEY

  At eleven, everyone—and I mean, everyone—is present and ready to eat. Mom has brunch laid out on the big center island in the kitchen, and it’s chaotic. Children are running everywhere. Boys are prevalent in the Johnson gene pool. Other than Dawson’s girls, there are only two others in all sixteen of the second cousins.

  I’ve been watching Vanessa to see if she can deal with it. It’s a big family to spring on someone for the first time. Especially to someone who grew up with just her dad.

  We’re celebrating everything today. Four birthdays, a going-away party for Harlow and Ava, and an early Thanksgiving. This morning seems to be focused on the birthdays because Ava is handing out pointy paper hats, and Mom is bringing me a plate of waffles with candles stuck in them. Some things never change.

  Everyone sings and eats. In what seems like two seconds, the food is gone, and the clan is outside, leaving the kitchen looking like a hurricane struck.

  Vanessa and I do the dishes while Mom sits on a barstool—only because we made her.

  “Now that you’ve met the family, what do you think?” I ask Vanessa.

  “I see why Keatyn enjoys coming here. Always something going on. I heard all about the epic parties you used to have.”

  Mom raises an eyebrow at me.

  “They were epic only because of the people we invited, Mom. Just like you always say, ‘A party is only as good as the guest list.’”

  “I like that,” Vanessa says. “Keatyn always says something like that, too. About how it doesn’t matter where you are for a holiday; what matters is who is at the table with you.”

  “Exactly,” Mom agrees.

  “But it is a little overwhelming. It’s always been just me and my dad,” she says, then turns to me. “I have a new respect for you, Riley. That you left all this to blaze your own trail in LA. I don’t think I could have left. And, if I’m being honest, I sort of feel bad for making the girls leave all this love.”

  “Sometimes, you need a fresh start,” Mom says. “The girls are very excited.”

  “I can’t wait for them to see their rooms.”

  “Dawson says they are a little over the top, but I think that’s okay,” Mom says. “Speaking of my son, it’s so wonderful to see him happy again. We have you to thank for that.”

  Vanessa catches Dawson’s eye from across the room, and I notice him give her a wink. It’s a simple, silly gesture, but based on the look of lust that crosses her face, it hits its mark. Dawson must sense this because he saunters toward her and holds out his hand.

  “Would you like to go for a walk on the beach?” he asks her.

  “Now that it’s just the two of us,” my mom says, “tell me what happened at the fundraiser. I haven’t wanted to ask because I know it’s always a sore subject with Dawson. But I overheard Vanessa telling Annie that he told the truth about Whitney’s depression and suicide. Is it true he’s going to change the focus of the foundation?”

  “Yes. Vanessa’s mother passed away when she was young, and she only recently found out that it was suicide. Her father had kept it a secret all this time. She told Dawson it shouldn’t be shoved under the rug and not spoken about. He took it to heart. You would have been so proud of him, Mom. His speech was so eloquent and heartfelt. And he read us the note she’d left him. He’s kept it in his wallet all this time. Never told anyone about it.”

  “She left a note? What did it say?” Mom’s eyes widen in surprise.

  I can tell it’s the first she’s heard about it. I figured, if he had told anyone, it would have been her.

  “Something about how suicide is selfish. How she was sorry, and he and the girls didn’t deserve it. But that she thought they would be better off in the long run. It was actually a little more poetic than that, but you get the drift.”

  “What she did was selfish. What do you think of Vanessa—really?”

  “I think she’s good for him. And he’s sure crazy about her.”

  Mom nods her head and then says, “Um, will you excuse me for a moment? I need to go have a word with your father.”

  A short time later, I’m back in the kitchen, making myself a drink, when my dad yells at me to join him out front, which is a little odd. Usually, everyone congregates in the back.

  When I get outside, I find all my uncles and male cousins over the age of eighteen, except for Dawson, waiting for me—and looking suspicious.

  “What’s going on? Someone getting a new car?” I ask.

  “We’re taking a vote,” Uncle Charlie says. “About grandma’s ring.”

  I roll my eyes. Not this again.

  Grandma’s ring is about the only thing this family ever fights about, which I find sort of funny. Although the ring is quite beautiful, it pales in comparison to the rock I hope to someday buy for Ariela.

  I understand the sentimental appeal though. My grandparents did have an amazing love story. But I know everyone will vote how they always do. And whoever wants it will be told no.

  But then my father and uncle speak passionately about their plan for the ring, and for the first time ever, I raise my hand in the air—along with everyone else.


  Johnson Home — The Hamptons

  VANESSA

  Our afternoon is spent poolside. Colorful, handmade felt banners hang across the deck, wishing the girls good luck at their new school. The girls are having a great time. Swimming in the heated pool, running around, and playing games. I have to admit, after the way I was treated by Bam’s family, I was worried Dawson’s family might not like me.

  But they have been so incredibly warm and welcoming.

  Ava runs up to me, soaking wet and shivering.

  “Sweetheart, you need to either get back in the pool or put your cover-up on. You don’t want to be sick your first week at your new school.”

  “I know,” she says sweetly, taking the shirt from my hand and pulling it over her head. “I didn’t want to get out of the pool, but Daddy is telling everyone to come into the pool house because he wants to make an announcement.”

  “Oh, I didn’t hear that.” I turn to Annie. “Did you?”

  “No,” she says innocently.

  But I’m good at reading people, and I know she knows something.

  “Does he have something special planned for the girls?” I ask Annie after Ava runs off.

  She gives me a noncommittal shrug and then gets up. I follow her to the pool house and take a seat next to her.

  “Oh, perfect. They’re passing out champagne,” Annie says, taking one off a tray, as Dawson moves to the front of the group.

  “I’d like to make a toast,” he says. “And I apologize in advance, as it will be a lengthy one. You all know that the girls and I have had a rough go of it the past few years. You’ve been encouraging and passionate about me moving past the tragedy and reclaiming my life. And, because of it, I finally went to California to work with Riley’s company. I want to thank you for taking care of my girls and loving them while I figured out if it was the right thing for our family. And I can’t tell you how much it means to me that you are all here, wishing us well with our move.