The Billionaire's Boyfriend

by Elana Johnson

  It felt like a long time before they started clearing their dishes and the boys disappeared into their bedrooms, leaving her and Owen alone.

  He led her to the couch, where he sat and tucked her into his side. “So.” He dipped his mouth to her ear and kissed her there. “What did you think? Terrible?”

  “No,” she said, leaning into his touch. “It was just…different than anything I’ve done before.”

  “I bet.” He trailed his lips along her throat. “I thought it went really well. Only a few questions, and I didn’t feel any resistance from either one of them.”

  She was glad he hadn’t. She hadn’t been able to read them at all, Zach especially. She lowered her chin and met Owen’s mouth with hers. This kiss felt different than the others they’d shared. It was slower, touched with more passion, and struck her deeper emotionally.

  “I like them,” she whispered.

  “I’m glad.” Owen held her close. “I think they like you too.”

  “Is Zach really going to go to California for college?”

  “Seems like he wants to.” Owen sighed. “And you know I have quite a bit of money, right? I used to sell real estate back in the heyday of the housing market. I’ve got more than enough to help Zach pay his out-of-state tuition.”

  Foolishness raced through her. “I blurt things out sometimes. It’s a flaw.”

  “A cute one.” He chuckled and touched his lips to her forehead.

  “I wanted to talk to you about something too,” she said.

  “Oh?” Owen eased back so he could look at her.

  “Yeah.” Gina pushed his hair off his forehead. “I’m looking for a place to buy, and seeing how you used to be in real estate, I’m wondering if you can refer me to someone who can help with that.”

  His eyebrows shot toward his hairline. “You’re looking to buy? Here in Getaway Bay?”

  “Well, I’m going to be working here for several months, and I sort of have this handsome boyfriend now, and maybe I won’t go back to Dallas.” She shrugged like such a major life change was no big deal.

  “Boyfriend,” he repeated as if he’d never thought of himself as such a thing before.

  “Not just any boyfriend,” Gina said, leaning into him again. “The billionaire’s boyfriend.”

  He laughed and she joined in with him, happier and more content than she thought she could ever be.

  Gina allowed herself to enjoy the moment, as Doctor White had counseled her to do. “You have to allow yourself to be happy,” she’d said that afternoon. “The only one stopping you from feeling that joy of being in a relationship with a man, is you, Gina.”

  And she’d been right. So maybe Owen had one leg through the doorway now. The thought of inviting him all the way into her life still scared Gina to death, and she coached herself to take one little step at a time.

  Reveal one more truth. Keep him for one more day. She only hoped she wouldn’t end up with a broken heart by the end of everything.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Maybe I won’t go back to Dallas.

  Gina’s words looped through Owen’s mind for a week. But she didn’t seem to be looking for a place—at least she hadn’t asked him to help her.

  His real estate license was still good; he made sure it didn’t expire. No reason to make life difficult down the road if he wanted to go back to the profession.

  The night of the luau arrived, and he changed out of his sky blue dress shirt and into a more tropical button-down that sent a quiver of embarrassment through him.

  “You look ridiculous,” he muttered to himself as he combed his hair to the side. But he couldn’t go to a luau in a business suit. He’d tried that before, and the mocking was more than he’d get in this bright, colorful shirt, which had a bird on it.

  A bird.

  He turned away from his reflection in disgust just as Gina opened the door and said, “Knock, knock.” She looked toward his desk first and then swung her attention toward him.

  “Oh. My.” She pressed one palm to her heart.

  “Go ahead and laugh.”

  Gina’s face burst into a smile, and the laugher wasn’t far behind. “It’s not bad,” she said, advancing toward him. “Honest. It’s just so not you.”

  “I’m aware.” He couldn’t help smiling at her though. “You look nice.”

  She wore a black dress with thin straps over her shoulders and a hemline that fell to her knees. The big, bold flowers all over it screamed luau, and a pair of peacock feathers dangled from her ears.

  “This totally fits you.” He pushed a lock of her hair behind her ear and leaned down to kiss her.

  All of his questions piled up in his mind, but he hadn’t let himself say them this week. Things had gone so well at dinner last week, and their time spent together this week had been magical. He didn’t need to ruin things with his curiosity.

  “I saw Fisher and Stacey on their way out with the boys,” Gina whispered against his lips. “Should we go?”

  “Mm, yes.” Owen kept kissing her though, not quite ready to downgrade to hand-holding.

  She let him carry on for several more seconds and then giggled as she pulled back. “Come on, Romeo. We’re going to be late.”

  “You obviously haven’t been to a luau.”

  Gina jerked and looked over her shoulder at him.

  “I mean—”

  “No,” she said, something hard covering her features for a moment. “I haven’t been to a luau.”

  Owen’s hand automatically went to his throat to adjust his tie, but he wasn’t wearing one. Even his nervous tics would have to be adjusted for tonight.

  “Well, the first half-hour is entertainment,” he said. “While everyone gets seated. We won’t be late.”

  “I like to be entertained.” Gina threw him a flirty smile and left his office, her pink-sandaled feet slapping against the tile.

  He couldn’t keep up with her moods, but he had longer strides than her and caught up to her easily in the hall, capturing her hand in his before they made it to the registration desk.

  “I didn’t mean anything by it,” he said, glancing around like he expected a riot to break out at any moment.

  “I know.”

  They arrived at the luau a few minutes later, where a Hawaiian woman wearing traditional clothing put a lei around each of their necks. They received table assignments, put in drink requests, and allowed the usher to lead them to their seats.

  Music filtered down from the speakers in the tent above, and fans and misters kept the air cool. Owen wanted to take his shoes off so they wouldn’t be full of sand, but he didn’t.

  Gina dug her toes in and glanced around with an air of excitement. “This is beautiful.”

  Flowers in every color and size adorned the poles holding up the tents, as well as took center stage on the tables. Flashy prints, palm leaves, and tiki torches completed the festive atmosphere.

  An “ah” went up from the crowd to his left, and Owen nudged Gina so she’d watch them bring out the kālua pig.

  “Oh, holy cow.” Gina looked at him with wide eyes, like it was her first time allowed in a giant candy store and she’d just been told she could have whatever she wanted.

  “No, sweetheart,” Owen whispered, putting his arm around Gina and bringing her dangerously close to him. “It’s a pig.”

  She laughed and settled back into his chest, right where he wanted to keep her forever.

  It took four men to carry the pig to its place in the center of the tent. Women followed, dressed in traditional garments, carrying platters of potatoes, vegetables, fish, poi, and taro leaves. With the introduction of the food, Owen’s mouth started to water.

  He couldn’t remember if he’d eaten lunch or not, and his own enthusiasm for the event grew.

  Dancers came out, the music got turned up, and the party really started. Owen clapped along with everyone else, cheered, and lost himself to a tradition he hadn’t enjoyed in entirely too long.
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  He reveled in Gina’s reactions, and once again, he didn’t want to ruin their experience with his questions. So he saved them for later, when they could be alone, instead of at a table with guests from the hotel.

  Afterward, Gina linked her arm through his and said, “That was the best thing I’ve ever been to.”

  Owen chuckled and pressed a kiss to her temple. “I’m glad you liked it.”

  “Do you want to walk with me?” She indicated the beachwalk to the west instead of following the other patrons into Sweet Breeze on the east.

  “Sure.” He stepped onto the boards, glad to be out of the annoying sand. “I want to take my shoes off.”

  “Do it.” Gina’s eyes held a challenge in them.

  “You don’t think I will.” Owen cocked one eyebrow at her.

  “No, sir, I don’t think you will.”

  Owen immediately sat on the edge of the beachwalk and started untying his shoes.

  Gina laughed beside him. “I can’t believe it. I’ve never seen you with anything unbuttoned, unlaced, or unstrung.”

  Owen finished taking off his shoes, her words playful but stinging him. He stood, his shoes dangling from a couple of fingers on his right hand. He took Gina’s in his left.

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means you’re perfect.”

  Owen laughed, their steps slower in the sand. But without his shoes on, he didn’t mind. “I’m far from perfect, Gina.”

  “Name one thing.”

  “I work too much.”

  “So do I.”

  It was true. She did work too much. Owen hadn’t minded—or even noticed—until he wanted to spend time with her in the evenings.

  “I have bad handwriting.”

  “True.”

  “I eat my food all mixed together.”

  “It could be overlooked as a lovable quirk.”

  “I’m too refined.”

  “No one would say that if they saw you wearing that shirt.”

  Owen’s next flaw came to mind, but he didn’t want to say it out loud.

  “Go on,” Gina said, the teasing quality of her voice light and fun. “I know you have something else.”

  “I ask too many questions.”

  “Ah.” She nodded, her gaze settling somewhere on the horizon in front of them. “Now that’s a true flaw. Nosy. Wants to know everything, all the time, about everyone.”

  His ability to chat with people, get to know them and remember tiny details about them, had earned him the top selling real estate agent for four straight years.

  So was it a flaw?

  Only for someone who didn’t want to answer questions—and Gina definitely did not.

  Owen let her comments slide, and their conversation turned to Zach’s upcoming graduation and college career.

  “Has he heard anything from the University of Hawaii?”

  “Nothing yet.” Owen realized how dark it was and turned them back to the hotel. “Sunday brunch tomorrow?” he asked once they’d arrived back at Sweet Breeze. “At my place. I’ll come over in the afternoon to get some things ready for the week.”

  “Sure.” Gina tipped up on her toes and kissed him, right there in the lobby, while she waited for the elevator to arrive.

  Owen cursed the speed of the fancy lifts in this hotel, because the doors opened with a beep much too soon.

  Gina kept hold of his collar as she backed up, finally letting her hand drop right before he’d have to start walking. She wore a dreamy smile on her face and said, “’Night, Owen,” before stepping into the elevator and letting the doors close between them.

  “Night,” Owen said to himself—and the dozens of other people buzzing about the lobby—and wondered when he’d fallen all the way in love with Gina Jackson.

  As the weather warmed, more tourists arrived on the island, which meant more work for Owen. More employees that needed hiring. More disturbances, longer lines at check-in, and if the WiFi went down? It was like the apocalypse had hit Sweet Breeze what with the way people went from pleasant to irate in less time than it took to breathe.

  He continued to visit Gina every afternoon, between the madness of check-out and the insanity of check-in, but sometimes he just sat there and watched her work.

  She was cute with her tape measure, pencil, and notebook in a feminine tool belt slung around her waist. She also wore a hammer with a bright purple grip, a screwdriver, and various hardware in the little pockets.

  She said little about her therapy sessions, and Owen’s curiosity felt like it would kill him. He’d mastered leaving his sons alone about what they talked about with the psychologist. After all, his wife’s abandonment affected him differently than Gina’s past would have.

  But she didn’t tell him much, if anything, about it. The facts she’d agreed to share about herself each day had dwindled and then stopped altogether.

  Owen had learned a lot just by watching, his usual method of discovering the personality quirks of a person. They ran together a few times each week. They shared brunches and lunches and late dinners.

  But Owen felt like he’d been stuck in a relationship rut for the past two months.

  With only seven weeks until Zach’s graduation now, he wouldn’t have time to help Gina find a house even if she asked.

  Which she hadn’t.

  She didn’t seem to be the only one who couldn’t make a decision about what she wanted. Zach’s acceptance and full ride scholarship to the University of Hawaii had come weeks ago, and still his son hadn’t decided where to go or what to do.

  The acceptance deadlines were coming up very soon, and Owen had asked Zach about it so many times, the last question had quickly escalated into an argument.

  So Owen had stopped asking. It seemed like he might burst from all the questions he had, but he never did.

  Instead, he let everyone give him the silent treatment, asking about getting more milk or how the double vanity in the two-bedroom apartment-suites looked.

  Owen didn’t care about milk or vanities. He didn’t want to be the dad who let things slide, or the perpetual billionaire’s boyfriend.

  So he picked up the phone and he called his son. “Look, I just need to talk for a minute,” he said. “I know you don’t want to hear it, but it’s important. You need to make a decision by tonight, or some of your opportunities will be gone.”

  Silence came through the line. “Just talk to me about it,” Owen said, the hint of pleading in his voice. “I can maybe help you think through some things.”

  Nothing was said, and Owen checked to make sure the call was still connected. It was.

  “Zach—”

  “I want to go to UCLA, Dad, but I’m not sure if I’m doing it for the right reason.”

  Owen heard the distress in his son’s voice. “Okay, tell me the reason.”

  Zach once again took ages to respond, and Owen employed every ounce of patience he had.

  “Maizee,” Zach said. “She’s going, and we’ve been dating for almost a year now.”

  Surprise and panic and horror mixed inside Owen like three separate winds to make a cyclone.”You have a girlfriend?”

  “I’ve taken her to all the dances, Dad.”

  “But you never said anything.”

  “I didn’t think I needed to.”

  Owen watched the tropical fish swim around inside the tank several feet away. “And she’s going to UCLA, and you’re worried you’re just following her there.”

  “Something like that.”

  “No,” Owen said. “Tell me exactly what it is.”

  “It’s that,” Zach mumbled. “It’s pathetic. And expensive. I should just stay and go to the U of H.”

  Owen knew emotions—and hormones—were powerful things. “What’s the worst that could happen? You go to UCLA and you two break up? Then you just come home the next year. Or you stay and find another girl. There are lots of girls, Zach.”

  “I know that, Dad.”

 
“I don’t care about the money.” He did care if his eighteen-year-old son was making adult decisions that would affect him for the rest of his life.

  “I feel bad, though,” Zach said.

  “Do we need to draw out of a hat?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “I’ll get Chinese tonight, and we’ll pick. Okay?”

  “Yeah, okay.” His son sounded miserable, and Owen hated that.

  “Look, I need to say one more thing. Do we need to talk about…responsibility when it comes to girlfriends?”

  “Oh, no, Dad. Please.”

  “You’re being smart?”

  “Dad.”

  “What? You think I want to be a grandfather at forty-seven?”

  “You’d be forty-eight by the time the baby came,” Zach said. “And this is not a conversation we’re having. I’m not stupid, and I’m not having sex with her.” Zach said it emphatically enough that Owen believed him.

  He couldn’t be more relieved. “All right then. Chinese tonight. I’ll get Cooper to make us the choices.”

  They hung up and Owen stared at his phone. Eleven minutes. An eleven minute conversation had revealed so much about his son—some hard things. Worrisome things—but it had been good.

  “You’ve got to do it.” But he didn’t want to call Gina and have a difficult, eleven minute conversation.

  He dialed her anyway.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Gina silenced Owen’s call, rationalizing that she’d be late for her appointment if she took it.

  It could be something quick, she thought, but she shoved her phone in the side pocket of her purse and reached for the door handle to the building where her therapist worked.

  She checked in—four minutes early—and sat down to wait. Deciding to text Owen, she pulled out her phone and typed, Sorry, almost time for my appointment. Call you after?