Start Again Series: A Billionaire Romance Box Set

by J. Saman

  Her smile slips a little and she nods her head in acknowledgment but doesn’t say anything about that.

  “Are we still trapped here?”

  “Good question,” I laugh, because I hadn’t even thought to look. I can’t decide what I’m hoping for.

  “This wasn’t how I envisioned our first hiking trip together,” she says, blinking her eyes open slowly before squinting them against the intrusive sun. She rolls onto her back, glancing up at me with those dark-blue oceans of hers.

  I laugh, brushing more hair away from her face, my fingers gliding across her smooth skin because I simply cannot help myself. Having her like this, against me, in my arms, it’s so goddamn tempting.

  “Me neither, but in all honesty, I’m not complaining.”

  “Yeah?” she smiles softly. “So, I won’t have to resort to begging and bribery the next time?”

  An unstoppable smile lights up my face. “Begging and bribery, huh?” I bounce my eyebrows suggestively. “That might be too good to pass up.”

  “You’re a flirt,” she giggles, playfully pushing my chest, her palm flat against me, and even though I’m wearing a million fucking layers, I feel her heat sink into me.

  Our eyes lock. She’s smiling up at me. I’m smiling down at her. And before I can make sense of it, I’m leaning down. Her hand is still pressed against my chest, and I wonder if she can feel my heart racing. I wonder if she knows it’s all for her.

  Claire licks her lips, just a small reflex, really, but it sets my blood on fire and my already aching cock twitches. I need her more than I need anything else in this world, and that includes air, water, and food. Really, I’d give them all up for a shot with her. Her eyes flutter closed as my face approaches, and just as my lips are a whisper above hers, a motherfucking car alarm goes off right next to us.

  Her eyes bolt open, and I pull back, and then she scoots away from me, sitting up and rubbing her hands up and down her face like she’s trying to clear her wayward thoughts.

  Goddamn it!

  “We should get going,” she says hastily. “It looks like the car that was blocking us in is gone.” She brushes some hair out of her face, trying to tame her wild locks that are still tangled up into that bun. “I’m hungry. And I have to pee again, and there is no way I’m copping a squat in all this sunshine.” She laughs awkwardly and then scrambles as fast as she can into the front seat.

  I sigh, sitting up and banging my fucking head on the ceiling of my car. I rub my hands up and down my face, adjust my stupid dick and then climb up to the front the way she did.

  I hate everything right now.

  “We have dinner tonight at Kate and Ryan’s, but what’s your plan for today? Do I get to hang out with the birthday girl?” I ask as we drive out of Olympic National Park back toward civilization.

  “Sure,” she says, her tone despondent as she stares out the window at the passing landscape.

  After stopping to eat breakfast at a small diner, we drive into Seattle on a gorgeous summer day. The city is sparkling, the air is sweet, and the last thing I want to do is take her home. But we both need showers.

  “So, I’ll pick you up again in an hour?” I ask as I pull up to the curb in front of her building.

  “I can just walk over,” she says, and I shake my head, because no, she can’t. That would ruin everything.

  “Nah, I’ll scoop you, and then we’ll go do something fun. Whatever you want.”

  She looks over at me with a small smile. “I don’t care what we do today, Kyle. I honestly don’t. My birthday has never been anything all that special for me, but hanging out with you is. So even if we just stroll around and stare at the water all day, I’m cool with that.”

  When she says things like that to me, it’s impossible not to imagine my whole world with this woman. I don’t care about all the warnings. About the way both Ryan and Luke have tried to steer me away.

  I need her.

  I just can’t have her.

  She makes her ideology on relationships known. Claire has issues. Big, fat, ugly issues that I want to roll around in until they’re so thoroughly intermingled with mine that neither of us can figure out where hers end and mine begin.

  I want it all, even though I know she’ll run me through a time or two.

  She’ll fight me and resist me and fucking kill me. God, this girl has a power over me like no one else. And she’ll wield it, even if she doesn’t know she can. Even if she finds the idea of hurting anyone abhorrent. She’ll crush me. So, it’s not like I’m not going in with my eyes open. It’s more a matter of treading carefully and precisely so that she’s completely mine before she even realizes the trick was played.

  “Claire?”

  She looks over at me expectantly before stepping out of the car.

  “Happy birthday.”

  She nods her head at me the way she did earlier when I said that, and then jumps out of the car, slamming the door behind her.

  I drive home and shower off the night spent in the car. After getting dressed into an old t-shirt and jeans, I walk past her present. It’s beautiful. Classic. All sleek lines and black painted wood. I hope she likes it.

  Tonight.

  It’s going to be tonight.

  And I need today to be perfect. Not just for her, but for us. I need to show her that it all makes sense. I’m taking her to the Museum of Pop Culture. I have no idea if she’s been there or not, but the place just seemed like her mecca when I checked it out online. It’s also really close to the Space Needle and Chihuly Garden and Glass.

  I plan to hit it all up with her. Even though Claire does not want a party and Kate finally relented, I was told to keep her away from their house all day.

  “This is one of my favorite places in the city,” Claire says as we meander through the glass garden. “It feels like something out of a Doctor Seuss book.”

  She’s right. It does. The Chihuly glass is unbelievable and seems to sprout out of the ground and the gardens like they’re part of the natural landscape. I’ve seen some of his work before, but nothing on this scale. The midday sun is shining brightly on us with the towering Space Needle as our backdrop.

  I live here. It still feels surreal.

  But I don’t regret my decision.

  In fact, I think it was something I should have done years ago.

  I was never fully satisfied with what I had going in New York. I was chasing a dream. Thinking that the more notoriety I got or the more money I made, the closer I would be to obtaining it. But I don’t think I ever had a full understanding of what my dream was.

  I still don’t, but I feel closer to something more tangible than I ever did before.

  That, and even though I’m still anemic and borderline thrombocytopenic, my leukocyte count has normalized. And those other numbers have improved. It’s like my body is saying a big, fat, thank you for getting away from New York and the resounding stress that ran my life there.

  I haven’t heard a peep from Franco Rovelo or any who works for him. No, I think the New York mafia has more important fish to fry than me. That right there is a tremendous relief.

  “Why do you hate your birthday?” I ask randomly as we stop to admire a snakelike piece of glass.

  “I have something similar to this in my apartment,” she says. “It was a graduation present from my mother. Serves no freaking purpose that I can decipher, but it’s still pretty.” I just stare at her as she leans forward, examining this particular piece like it holds all the answers.

  “You don’t have to tell me,” I say, realizing I need to let her off the hook.

  She rights herself slowly, angling her body so that she’s facing me. “I hate my birthday.”

  Her expression is trying for impervious, but it’s not. She’s got a well of emotion lurking behind those blue eyes of hers.

  “When I was a kid, I used to look forward to it.”

  I nod. All kids do.

  “Every single year, I was disappoint
ed. My father rarely ever called me, and he never showed up or sent a present. You met him. He’s chronically disappointed in me. My mother was usually too preoccupied with herself to put much effort into it, and I didn’t have grandparents. By the time I was old enough to know better, they were all dead. So, it was always a disappointment that sort of grew from there. After a bit, I never wanted to think about it because it was never a day that anyone celebrated.”

  Fuck. My heart clenches in my chest. I hate the idea of a neglected Claire. And her father is a real prick, just as she said. I asked her recently if she’s heard from him again and she said no. I still don’t understand everything that transpired with them, but I have a feeling I never will.

  “You were just hanging out with the wrong people,” I tell her, trying for a smile I don’t feel.

  “Yeah,” she agrees. “I have you, and Kate and Ryan and Luke and Ivy. But my mother is dead, and my father is an asshole.”

  I take a step toward her and wrap my arms around her neck, hugging her in just such a way that she cannot question what she means to me.

  “Sorry,” she mumbles into my neck. “I’m not usually Debbie Downer like this. I’m really having a great day with you.” She pulls back and meets my eyes with her steady gaze.

  “Good. Because it’s just getting started. My tenacious sister-in-law has spent the entire day cooking, and Ryan bought you some really expensive alcohol, and everyone got you gifts that you’re going to gripe about because you don’t like people making a fuss over you. And I’m going to take you through a museum after we’re done exploring all this glass. And you’ll never question again how much you’re loved.”

  She swallows hard. Blinks. Sighs.

  “Did they teach you this in law school?”

  “What?” I say through a chuckle.

  “How to say the perfect thing at just the right moment?”

  “Not really. You just sort of learn that as you go along.”

  “Well, babycakes, you’ve mastered that particular skill.”

  I love you, I don’t say. The thought popping into my mind unbidden. But it’s still true, and I refuse to challenge it. Even to myself.

  “Come on, I want to finish looking at the Land of Oz before we hit up the museum. I could spend hours in there, so I hope you’re ready for that.”

  “Baby, I’m ready for anything with you.” She has no idea all the ways I mean that. All the hope I’m pouring into it.

  19

  Claire

  * * *

  Leaning back in a cushy lounge chair on Kate and Ryan’s patio, my eyes are fixated on the dancing orange and blue flames of the fire burning in the built-in firepit. It’s hypnotic and warm, and even though this is a decently mild night, the heat is still welcome against my skin. I’m surrounded by the sounds of popping and crackling, which is somehow overpowered by Kate’s laughter.

  Today I turned twenty-five.

  Initially, Kate had planned an extravagant surprise party that included every single person I know in the greater Seattle area.

  Thankfully, Ryan knows about my deep-seated hatred of surprises and my birthday, and managed to rein Kate in.

  So instead of a massive surprise party, I spent an amazing day with Kyle, and then I was treated to a dinner of paella, empanadas, and mojitos. And now out on the patio, we’re making s’mores and drinking really expensive bourbon.

  And as much as I genuinely dislike my birthday for a whole host of reasons, I really cannot imagine a better way to have celebrated it.

  Kate is sitting on Ryan’s lap, his hand permanently latched to her beautiful round belly, his fingers splayed out. Every time I look at the two of them, I smile just a little. They really know how to beat the cynic out of me. Same with Luke and Ivy. Ivy’s not on his lap or anything, but their chairs are hugged up against each other and they’re holding hands. And every few minutes, Luke subconsciously brings Ivy’s hand up to his mouth and kisses it.

  They’re all so damn cute, I could vomit. In a good way.

  My eyes close as I take a sip of the amber liquor in my glass, savoring its smooth velvety texture. I have no idea what a bottle like this costs, but knowing Ryan, it’s a lot.

  “I think it’s only fair to make Claire go first,” Kate says with a laugh to her voice. “It is her birthday after all.”

  I crack open one eye and look over at her, wondering just what the hell she’s up to now.

  “Claire,” Ivy says, a girlish giggle passing her lips immediately after. “Truth or dare?”

  Now it’s my turn to laugh. Opening both of my eyes, I roll my head against the cushion to take her in. “I think you’ve been hanging around kids too long, Ivy. I haven’t played Truth or Dare since I was in sixth grade and I was dared to kiss Niko Furrick.”

  “Niko Furrick?” Kate echoes with a laugh. “Must have been one hell of a kiss if you remember it that clearly.”

  “Not really.” I smile at the memory. “He lizard-tongued me.”

  Everyone laughs, and I can’t help but join them, because that might have been the worst kiss ever.

  “Come on now,” Ivy whines. “It’ll be fun. Nothing too over the top, and you can always decline to do something.”

  “What’s the fun in that?” Luke protests. “The whole point of Truth or Dare is getting forced to either reveal something you’d rather not or do something even worse under the bullshit pretenses of playing a game.”

  “He’s right,” Ryan says, taking a sip of his bourbon. “Besides, the only person I’m kissing here is Katie.” He looks over at Luke with a wry grin. “Even though I do find you devastatingly attractive.”

  “Fuck you very much,” Luke says with a nod of his head at Ryan’s compliment. “But really, I think Kyle is more my taste.” He looks over at Kyle, who has been pretty quiet tonight, and shoots him a wink. “I don’t really dig beards.”

  Kyle raises his middle finger with a smirk.

  “I didn’t think this was going to turn into a bloody make-out fest,” Ivy says with a small scowl. “I just thought it would be a fun game to play. You know, to make us do small gag things.”

  “Ivy Pivy,” I say. “I’m gonna clue you in on something because you’re far too adorably clueless. Truth or Dare is really just a glorified version of spin the bottle.”

  Her eyebrows knit together into a confused expression.

  “It’s a kissing game.”

  “Oh,” she says with a small laugh. “Well then, how about we just have Claire open her presents instead.”

  I groan, throwing my head back against the cushions.

  “Now that’s the way to be gracious,” Ryan laughs, moving Kate off his lap so he can get up. “We got you shit. It’s your birthday. Get over it.” He pats my head as he passes me, headed back into his house.

  “Claire,” Luke says. “Truth or dare?”

  “I thought we already established that we’re not going to play that.”

  “Yeah, but I’m fourteen today, so fucking answer the question.”

  “Since I know you won’t be puckering up for me anytime soon, I assume a dare is safe?”

  “A dare is never safe with me.” He gives me a wicked grin that actually makes him look a little creepy against the light of the crackling fire. “Okay, really I was hoping for truth because I’m not all that creative in the dare department, other than sexual things, and we’re not doing that.”

  “Slut wagon, that’s not how you play,” I say, taking a sip of my bourbon. “You can’t tell me to take a truth over a dare.”

  “Slut wagon?” Ivy laughs. “Wow, I’m going to have to tell Soph about that one. Can I ask her the question?” she asks Luke with a smile that I assume gets her whatever she wants from him.

  “Sure, darlin’, but my question was really good, just so you know.”

  “I highly doubt that,” Ivy smarts off before turning to me with the most serious expression in the history of serious expressions. “Why did the chicken cross the road
?”

  I bust out laughing so hard I have tears running down my cheeks. So does Kate. She’s holding her side like laughing this hard will make the babies pop out.

  “Ivy, I think you’re missing the point of these questions,” Luke says through his laughter.

  “I really haven’t. I’m simply killing time until Ryan returns with her present, so Claire doesn’t have to suffer through your grand inquisition.”

  “And here I am, so nicely done,” Ryan says, dropping a narrow, white rectangular box into my lap.

  “Wow. This isn’t a puppy,” I giggle, lifting the very lightweight box.

  “Stop being a brat and open it,” Ryan says, kissing Kate’s cheek and lifting her back into his lap.

  I can’t stop my small smile as I rip the red ribbon off and open it up. And then I pause because it’s just a series of folded papers. I open the first one and find a confirmation for a limo service to Portland, Oregon. I open the second one and find hotel reservations at the Nine’s hotel. Underneath all of that are two tickets to a Death Cab for Cutie concert.

  “No motherfucking way,” I laugh out, staring at the concert tickets. I spot Ryan and Luke high-fiving out of the corner of my eye. “Are you kidding me?”

  “Obviously not,” Luke deadpans, answering my rhetorical question. “It’s from the four of us, and you can clearly invite someone else.”

  “Holy sweet baby Jesus in the manger, this is amazing.” And it is. Probably the best birthday gift ever. I look up at the four of them, piled into three chairs and smiling at me like they’re just as excited as I am. “Thank you.” Wow, I’m actually choked up. “You guys rock my world and all that good stuff.”

  “Happy birthday, Claire Bear,” Ryan says, and despite the fact that he used that horrid nickname, I’m smiling so big my cheeks hurt. I jump out of my chair and hug each one of them, kissing their cheeks, and Kate’s belly, leaving some nice sloppy wetness for them to wipe away with a laugh.

  “Happy twenty-fifth,” Kyle says, and everyone holds up their glasses in unison, repeating the sentiment.