The Billionaire Next Door (The Sherbrookes of Newport Book 10)

by Christina Tetreault

  While Taylor told him about the places he’d never visited, they started their trek through the gorge.

  “If you didn’t ever come up here on vacation, where did you and your family go?”

  Another loaded question. He couldn’t tell her he’d traveled around the world for family vacations. Most people didn’t take those types of trips with kids. Many didn’t take them, period. He couldn’t tell her he never went anywhere either. She’d never buy it.

  “Whatever Mom found interesting that year. She always planned our vacations. We also spent time at my uncle’s beach house in Newport.” Calling Cliff House, the Sherbrooke family estate on Bellevue Avenue, a beach house was a stretch. Yet not technically wrong, and he had visited there regularly throughout his childhood.

  Taylor accepted his answer without question. “Reese wants to go to Santa’s Village again this summer. She likes it better than Story Land. I think I do, too. We haven’t decided if that’s what we’re going to do or not. Mom wants to rent a house at the beach for a week instead.”

  A group of young twentysomething-year-olds passed them, and Curt held off asking any more questions until they were again alone on the path. “And you?”

  “Not really sure. A week at the beach might be nice. Something different. I’ve taken Reese to the beaches in Hampton and in Rye, but always just for the day. She loves swimming, but I think she’d like the amusement park more than a whole week at the beach.”

  He came close to suggesting doing both. He caught himself before he put his foot in his mouth again. He doubted Taylor got much more than a few weeks’ paid vacation. Even if she got enough for two such vacations, there was the cost to consider.

  “You’ll figure it out.” Before he said anything else that required he either give away too much information or lie, he changed the subject.

  Chapter Nine

  “Auntie Taylor, are you up?”

  I am now. Taylor squinted at the ceiling with one eye. Bright sunlight filled the room, a stark contrast to the previous morning. Yesterday, like every day for the past week, it had rained. Last night the town had even sent out an e-mail canceling all soccer games today because the fields resembled muddy swamps. Reese wasn’t happy when she found out her game was canceled. Taylor, on the other hand, had been okay with it because it meant she could sleep a little longer today. Or, that had been her plan. Sounded like Reese had other ones for her this morning.

  “Yep, come on in.” She pried her other eyelid open and waited.

  The door opened and the tornado named Reese flew inside, jumped on the bed, and snuggled up next to her. She was already dressed, complete with flip-flops; her hair was pulled up in two pigtails. “Mimi and I are going to the mall to get me new sneakers and some more shorts.”

  They’d bought Reese new sneakers around Christmas, and she’d already outgrown them. And because she’d grown several inches since last summer, none of her old shorts fit well.

  “After, we’re going to the grocery store,” Reese said.

  Better Mom and Reese than her. She avoided both malls and grocery stores and did as much shopping on the Internet as she could.

  “We’re going to make Boston cream pie to bring to Curt’s tonight. Mimi promised we could get some ice cream to bring, too, because I don’t like that.”

  Taylor kissed her niece’s head and wrapped an arm around her. “Sounds great. I love Boston cream pie and can’t wait to taste it.”

  She stifled a yawn and wondered how likely it was she’d fall back to sleep after they left. She’d always had sleep issues, and once awake that was usually it for the day. If she had the house to herself for a while, maybe she’d get lucky this morning.

  Stripes took the open bedroom door as his invitation to join them. When he jumped onto the bed, Reese sat up and rubbed his head. “Do you want to come shopping with us, Auntie Taylor?”

  She’d rather face a whole armed street gang than venture to the mall today or any other day. “I’m not even dressed. You guys go without me. I’ll come along next time.”

  “Come on, Reese. We need to get moving if we’re going to have time to bake.” Mom entered the bedroom, her keys and purse in hand already.

  “See ya.” Reese planted a kiss on her cheek before leaping from the bed like a jack-in-the-box. The sudden movement earned her a dirty look from the cat. He’d found the perfect spot in the sun and proceeded to groom himself.

  “We’ll be back,” Mom said. “Do you need anything while we’re out?” Mom knew how much she disliked shopping, and if already out she picked up stuff for her.

  “All set, I think.”

  “Call if you change your mind. I left some pancakes in the refrigerator for you.”

  Taylor yawned again as the bedroom door closed. How long would they be gone? Reese loved the hunt. Usually Mom indulged her and allowed her to try on as many outfits as she wanted. Today she’d have to rein Reese in, though, if they hoped to bake dessert. Mom always insisted on bringing something when invited to someone’s house, even if it was only for a cookout like tonight. She’d instilled the belief in Taylor as well, and since Curt had showed up with wine the first night he had dinner with them weeks ago, she guessed he’d been taught the same thing. Right along with opening doors and pulling out chairs for women.

  Rolling over, thoughts of falling back to sleep faded. They were replaced by thoughts of their neighbor and the adult activities she’d enjoyed again in his bed last night.

  Over the past several weeks, Curt had become a permanent fixture in her life. She refrained from using the word boyfriend when thinking or talking about him. She hadn’t attached the label to anyone in years. The word simply hadn’t fit any of the men she’d dated since becoming Reese’s guardian. Yet, it described the situation between them.

  Over the past month and half, they’d gone to the movies and for rides on his motorcycle. She’d helped him put together the new patio furniture he’d bought, and together they’d opened the in-ground pool at his house. She’d taken him to the range for a shooting lesson one night after work, and he’d come to watch one of Reese’s soccer games. Twice he’d been in Boston and met her for lunch. Not to mention all the times he’d joined her, Reese, and Mom for dinner. And often after dinner he’d either play soccer with Reese or give her another lacrosse lesson. Much to Reese’s annoyance, they hadn’t done either all week, first because of special activities at school, and then thanks to the rain. Today promised to be a gorgeous day, and Reese was itching to get Curt outside. No doubt about it, Reese was crazy about the guy.

  She’d never admit it out loud, but she had it bad for Curt, too. Any woman would. He was thoughtful and considerate. He actually listened when she spoke to him. Asked her questions about her day and her job. He paid attention to her niece and treated her with respect rather than as an annoyance, no matter how much she talked his ear off. Don’t forget, he’s great in bed.

  Vivid memories from the night before flooded her mind, and heat exploded in her stomach.

  Their first time together had been incredible, but she’d assumed it had been a fluke, that the sex had been so good because it’d been such a long time since she’d last been with a man. Numerous times later, she knew better. Her long stretch of abstinence had nothing to do with it. Curt was just a damn good lover. He never rushed. He took his time learning her body and what she liked. He never stopped until she lost control and spiraled off the planet for a few blissful moments. No two ways about it, every woman deserved a lover like Curt at least once in her life. And she always did her best to return the favor. Judging by the sounds he made, Taylor figured she succeeded every time.

  All those things aside, every once in a while she sensed something was off. More than once she’d caught this almost guilty look in his eyes, as if he had some secret he didn’t want to share. Each time, it disappeared almost as quickly as it appeared, making her wonder if she’d imagined it. She spent so much time around criminals who lied and did anything t
hey could to protect their butts that maybe she saw things that weren’t there. Mom never mentioned having any suspicions, and she had no problem letting him be around Reese. If Mom sensed Curt was harboring some deep, dark secret, she wouldn’t invite him over on a regular basis and let him play soccer with Reese in the backyard. No, she might be a more trusting person than Taylor, but Priscilla Walker would never jeopardize her granddaughter’s safety.

  Taylor kicked off the blankets and sat up. “No chance of me getting back to sleep.” She had the erotic memories of last night to thank for that. Still, it’d be nice to have an empty house for a few hours. She could enjoy a coffee and then a long, hot shower before breakfast, something her schedule didn’t regularly allow. During the week, if she hoped to get a jump on traffic into Boston, she had to leave early. Even on the weekends, leisurely showers didn’t fit into her life. Today she had the opportunity and planned on taking it.

  She found the stack of blueberry pancakes in the refrigerator and popped a few of them into the microwave. While they heated, she prepared another cup of coffee. The sound of a car outside had her pausing before she got the mug to her lips.

  She’d taken her time in the shower, but not so long that Mom and Reese could be back already, even if Mom had really reined Reese in. The ringing doorbell verified it wasn’t them. With the house set so far back from the road, random strangers rarely rang the bell. Even during the last election, when minions for the various candidates had gone from door to door hoping to drum up support, no one had visited them—unlike many of their various neighbors. She’d heard people in town complain that sometimes three or four different people visited their doorsteps.

  Was it Curt? He’d said he planned on spending the morning working on his book, but maybe he’d changed his mind. Or needed a break from his computer screen.

  Almost immediately the doorbell rang again, and she dismissed the idea that it was Curt. Whoever was outside lacked patience. In no great rush, Taylor sipped her coffee as she left the kitchen.

  “Hey, sis,” the visitor greeted when Taylor opened the door.

  Taylor choked on her coffee. A coughing fit made it impossible to speak for several seconds. Even after it subsided Taylor stood there and stared, speechless. After working as a police officer, and now a DEA agent, nothing surprised her anymore—or so she’d thought until this very moment. Finding her older sister ringing the bell had done it.

  Eliza walked past Taylor and entered the house before Taylor could decide whether to tell her to leave or invite her in. “Aren’t you going to say something?” Eliza asked, her voice grating on Taylor’s ears.

  She’d aged fifteen years since Taylor had last seen her. Her hair, the same shade as Reese’s, hung limply to her shoulders and it looked like she hadn’t washed it in several days. Deep wrinkles fanned out near her eyes and around her mouth. And her clothes hung off her sickly, thin frame.

  Taylor skipped the small talk. If Eliza was here, she wanted something. “What are you doing here?”

  Turning, Eliza smiled—revealing her two missing bottom teeth. “I came to wish Mom a happy Mother’s Day.” She glanced around before walking down the hall toward the kitchen. “Something smells good. Is there any breakfast left? I’m starving.”

  Since it looked like Eliza hadn’t eaten in more than a week, Taylor didn’t doubt it. She followed closely behind, prepared to tell her sister to get lost as soon as Eliza shared why she was really there. “Mother’s Day already went by.”

  Eliza went straight for the extra pancakes Taylor hadn’t heated in the microwave, and dug in without sitting down. “You know I’m not great with dates.” She paused long enough to pour herself a coffee before going back to shoveling food into her mouth as if their mother had never taught them any table manners. “Where are Mom and Reese?”

  “Shopping. You could’ve called and wished Mom a happy Mother’s Day. Her number hasn’t changed.” Their mother had had the same phone number since she’d gotten her very first cell phone a decade ago. And the house number was the same one they’d had growing up.

  Whatever Eliza’s reason for being here, it had nothing to do with Mom. The woman never visited or even called for her daughter’s birthday, so there was no way she’d stop by because she suddenly wanted to wish their mom a happy Mother’s Day.

  Her sister shrugged. “I was in the area.” Eliza finished off her pancakes and looked at Taylor. “Are there any more?”

  Her sister looked like she needed them a hell of lot more than she did. “In the microwave. Help yourself.”

  Eliza went straight for them and dug in with almost as much gusto as she had with the first few. “You look ready to go out. Got big plans today? Don’t worry about me. I’ll hang around and wait for Mom.”

  Like she’d ever leave Eliza alone in the house. “Later this afternoon I have plans.” She watched her older sister, a woman she didn’t know anymore, devour the food she’d heated up for herself. Getting a straight answer was probably too much to ask for. Instead of trying, she’d let Eliza finish eating and then ask her to leave.

  “What about Mom and Reese? Will they be back soon, or are they gone for the day?”

  Taylor had a sneaking suspicion she knew why Eliza was interested in their plans. It was much easier to steal from a house when you knew it was empty. Taylor knew Eliza would stoop low enough to steal from her own family. She’d done it before. Or at least, Taylor was confident she had. Before Eliza’s stint in rehab, someone had broken into the house. Several pieces of Mom’s jewelry had disappeared, but oddly none of her favorites—including the diamond anniversary band Dad gave her for their twentieth anniversary. Some of Dad’s expensive power tools had also been taken, as well as an antique table clock. The thief left behind Mom’s laptop and her top-of-the-line camera, even though they’d both been out in plain sight. And the intruder had been amazingly neat and tidy, too. They hadn’t dumped drawers on the floor searching for items or broken a single thing. In her experience intruders didn’t care if they made a mess, and they didn’t leave behind diamond rings or expensive cameras. Not unless they knew how much they meant to their owners.

  “They’ll be back very soon. Reese has a friend coming over for the night.” If it meant Eliza wouldn’t try sneaking back in later, she’d lie. “And you cannot be here when they get home.”

  Eliza might be Reese’s mother, but Taylor wasn’t comfortable with her niece meeting her. She didn’t believe her sister would ever physically hurt Reese, but such a meeting might cause emotional damage. Right now, Reese seemed like a well-adjusted young girl. It didn’t make sense to jeopardize that.

  “Last time I checked, Mom owned this house, not you. She gets to decide who visits, and she never told me I wasn’t welcome, sis.”

  A sharp pain went through her jaw, and Taylor relaxed her mouth. Short of murdering someone, Taylor couldn’t think of single thing her sister could do that would cause Mom to bar Eliza from the house. Mom might hate the decisions Eliza had made in life, but she still loved her oldest daughter.

  “Do you really think being here when Reese comes home is a good idea?” Highly unlikely, but maybe her sister would use some common sense for her daughter’s sake.

  Eliza shrugged, and Taylor knew she wouldn’t like her answer. “Don’t see the big deal. She’s my daughter.”

  She saw red when she heard the emphasis Eliza put on “my.” The woman might have carried Reese for nine months, but Taylor was more Reese’s mom than Eliza was. Not once since she’d given up custody had Eliza sent a letter or a card to the little girl. She never called and inquired about her well-being. Instead, she acted like she never had a child. In Taylor’s book that was A-OK. Reese was much better off without Eliza in her life. “Just because you gave birth to her doesn’t mean anything, and you damn well know it.”

  “Kind of hard to be a mom when you’re in jail.”

  Nope, she wouldn’t let Eliza use that as an excuse. “And whose fault is that, Eliza? No
t mine or Mom’s. They have paper and pens in prison. They let you send letters. You could have kept in contact. And you’ve been out for how long now? A couple years? Yet you never call and ask about her? Even on her birthdays you don’t call.”

  “How do you stand always being Little Miss Perfect? Don’t you ever get tired of it?”

  Eliza had called her the same thing when they were kids. Today it annoyed her just as much as it had back then.

  The sound of the front door opening made Taylor’s stomach roll.

  “Auntie Taylor, we’re home!” Reese’s voice entered the kitchen before she did.

  Both Mom and Reese stopped abruptly when they passed through the doorway.

  Reese looked from Taylor to Eliza. Although her lifestyle had taken a toll on Eliza, there was no mistaking the resemblance between the two women. Still silent, she glanced back at her grandmother before looking at Eliza again. “I know you. Mimi has a picture of you in her bedroom next to Auntie’s. You’re Auntie Taylor’s sister.”

  Taylor forced herself to remain seated and not whisk Reese out of the room as Eliza smiled once again, revealing her missing teeth.

  ***

  Taking a few steps back, he eyed the end cabinet he’d installed along the outer wall. Satisfied with the way it looked, he glanced toward the boxes containing the ones for the opposite wall. Did he want to start on those now or leave them until Monday? He hadn’t even planned on working in the kitchen today.

  When he set his alarm to wake him earlier than normal, he’d planned to tackle the next chapter in his book. Instead, he found himself working in the kitchen. Again.

  All week his blank computer screen had tormented him. While it meant he got a lot of extra work done in the kitchen, it didn’t get him any closer to the end of his novel.

  He’d suffered writer’s block before, but never like this. Usually a day or two away from his laptop while he engaged in some other activity fixed the problem. A whole week had passed, though, since he last typed a single sentence, and he’d engaged in plenty of other distractions.