The Trouble with Billionaires (Southern Billionaires Book 1)

by Michelle Pennington

  “Hello?”

  “Hi, Nate. Taylor’s been begging me to call you.”

  “Charlotte? Wow, I didn’t think you’d call so soon. If at all.”

  Charlotte squeezed her eyes shut and pressed her lips together. She should have made Taylor wait a few more days. She opened her eyes and fixed them on Taylor, who was doing his best to eavesdrop on the conversation. “Six-year-old boys can be relentless when they want something.”

  “Ah. Does that mean you’re inviting me over?”

  “Yes, I suppose I am. Could you possibly come over this afternoon?”

  There was a pause, during which Taylor held his breath and waited with big eyes. Then Nate’s deep voice sounded over the phone again. “Yes. Sorry, I’ll have to shuffle a few things around, but I can be over there in about thirty minutes.”

  “If it’s too much trouble…”

  “Not at all. I’m glad you asked. See you soon.”

  “What’d he say?” Taylor asked as soon as she hung up. “When’s he coming?”

  “Soon. Now go play somewhere and let me get this mowing done before he gets here.”

  As he ran off, Charlotte let out a groan and pulled her body back up out of the chair. Her hands had finally stopped buzzing from the vibration of the mower, and now she had to go do it again.

  She worked as fast as she could, but the grass was so high, the mower struggled to cut through it. She was making her last pass when Taylor came in through the gate, leading Nate behind him. Self-conscious with Nate’s eyes on her, she finished up and shut down the mower.

  “You look worn out,” he said, looking her over.

  “Yeah. And I still have to do the neighbor’s yard, so you guys have fun.”

  “Wait, why do you have to do their yard?” Nate asked, sounding incredulous.

  “It’s the deal we worked out so I could use her mower. That woman is canny, let me tell you.” Charlotte grabbed hold of the mower handle, and started pushing it toward the gate.

  Behind her, she heard Nate say, “Hey buddy, can I help your mom first? She looks tired.”

  “Ah, man.”

  “Come on. It won’t take long.”

  “Fine.”

  “You don’t have to do that,” Charlotte called across the yard.

  “I want to,” he said, walking over. “What do you want me to do?”

  Charlotte glanced down at the mower. “I’ve already figured out this beast’s idiosyncrasies so I’ll finish mowing. You could do all the trimming. The trimmer is leaning against the porch rail over there. It might need some new line in it.”

  “On it,” he called, already on his way over to it.

  Now Charlotte’s heart was buzzing as bad as her hands as she started the mower and pushed it over to start the Johnston’s yard. She couldn’t believe he was being such a sweetheart. And she suspected that his pushy attitude in the store last week was actually due to his decisive and hard-working personality.

  She’d only made a few passes across the grass when she noticed Lanelle come out to her porch. The older lady sat down a tray and got comfortable in a padded, wicker seat.

  “Great,” Charlotte muttered under the noise of the mower. Lanelle probably wanted to make sure she did a good job.

  Sooner than Charlotte could have believed possible, Nate arrived at the Johnston’s with the trimmer and got to work. He finished in the front yard by the time Charlotte finished mowing it, and they moved into the backyard together.

  When he was done, in barely any time at all, he strode toward her and motioned for her to let him take over mowing. Since her calves ached and she couldn’t even feel her hands anymore, she gave in gratefully and put the trimmer away in the shed.

  When she turned around, she saw that Nate had taken off his t-shirt. Freezing in shock, she eyed the tight, shifting muscles in his back and shoulders in fascination. The late afternoon sun glimmered off the sheen of sweat on his tanned skin, raising Charlotte’s pulse to an indecent level. She had long ago locked away the pesky hormones and desires she no longer needed or wanted in her life, but one glance at the male perfection in front of her, and they escaped their cage.

  Shaking free of her spell-bound paralysis, she nearly ran back to the front yard before he caught her gaping at him. Besides, she couldn’t—shouldn’t—stand around gawking at Nate while he mowed. Maybe she could talk to Lanelle for a while and distract herself.

  She found both Lanelle and Taylor on the porch. Taylor sat on a bench, swinging his legs while he ate cookies and drank lemonade.

  “Hi, Mom,” he said.

  “Hey, buddy. You aren’t being a nuisance, are you?”

  “This angel?” Lanelle asked. “Never. Would you like some?”

  From the way the pitcher of lemonade was sweating as much as she was, she knew it was ice-cold. “I’d love some.”

  “So…” Lanelle said, her voice full of meaning as she poured a glass, “Nate Haverton is helping you do lawn work.”

  Charlotte hoped her work-flushed cheeks would hide her blush. “I guess so.” But clearly, more of an explanation was needed. “He’s coaching Taylor in t-ball and came over to practice with him.”

  Lanelle nodded. “Taylor was telling me all about it. That still doesn’t explain why he’s mowing my backyard.”

  With the lemonade in hand, Charlotte leaned against the porch rail, and took a sip. “He’s a nice guy.”

  Lanelle smiled wryly. “Not that nice. He isn’t mowing lawns for any of his other player’s mothers. I think he’s taken a fancy to you.”

  The sound of the mower cut off in the backyard and Charlotte’s heart jumped. “No he hasn’t. Don’t go getting crazy ideas.”

  “Mom?” Taylor asked. “What’s a fancy?”

  “Nothing,” Charlotte said.

  Lanelle smiled and leaned back in her chair. “It means he wants to be your mom’s boyfriend.”

  “Huh.” Taylor said, munching his cookie as he thought this over.

  Desperate to dispel such an idea, Charlotte said, “No he doesn’t. That’s ridiculous.”

  The sound of a gate latching caught Charlotte’s attention, and she closed her eyes tight, knowing this could get embarrassing fast. When she heard firm footsteps hit the porch, she cracked them open and saw Nate still hadn’t put on his shirt. It was just tossed over his shoulder like a totally unnecessary accessory. But now that she could see his cut abs and sculpted chest, she desperately needed him to put it back on.

  Nate smiled and held out his hand to Lanelle. “Mrs. Johnston, it’s great to see you again. It’s been too long.”

  “Well, I didn’t go anywhere,” she said, laughing as she shook his hand. “You’re the one who went gallivanting all over the place.”

  “You’re right. I hoped that I’d have more time for old friends when I moved back here. Unfortunately, I’m busier than ever since I have to travel more.”

  “Well, I’m glad to see you now, even if it took a pretty girl to bring you over here.”

  Charlotte let out a tiny squeak. She hoped Nate didn’t hear, but then he turned toward her with raised eyebrows and a tilted smile.

  He turned back to Lanelle though, saying, “Well, I’m glad to see you looking well.”

  “Yes, Paul and I are both blessed with good health. He’s gone down to the diner to play chess with all the old coots down there, but I’ll tell him you came by.” Lanelle filled another glass with lemonade, and handed it over to Nate.

  “Thanks.” Nate took the glass and started chugging. He drank the whole thing in five seconds and set the glass back down on the table. He turned to Taylor. “You ready to go toss the ball around, buddy?”

  Taylor jumped out of his chair. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

  “Taylor,” Charlotte called, as her son ran down the steps. “What do you say to Mrs. Johnston?”

  He turned, looking bewildered for a couple of seconds. “Oh. Thanks for the cookies! They were better than my mom’s.” Then he ran away ag
ain, and Nate sauntered after him, chuckling.

  Charlotte let her gaze linger on Nate under the guise of watching them play catch in her yard next door. Taylor ran to the far end so Nate stayed close to the property line. Charlotte told herself she was glad he was putting his shirt back on. Really, she was. But then she noticed he had a brown smear on the white fabric and specks of grass all over his jeans and shoes—all from helping her. She found it maddeningly attractive.

  The scent of fresh-cut grass hung in the humid air and a light, welcome breeze filled the trees with a gentle shushing sound. It was a delicious evening at the intersection of late spring and early summer. Charlotte would have loved to relax into it, but instead she clenched her fingers restlessly as her blood ran in a torrent of awareness.

  “Clever as the devil and twice as pretty,” Lanelle said thoughtfully.

  “What’s that?”

  “Oh, just an old saying. How long have you been divorced, honey?”

  Turning sharply at Lanelle’s question, Charlotte said, “Over a year now.”

  “I’d say that’s long enough to move on from anybody.”

  “I know what you’re thinking, but it’s not a good idea.”

  “Well, why in heaven’s name not?”

  Charlotte walked over to sit in a chair close to Lanelle. “I hear he’s rich.”

  “And that’s a problem? Have you lost your ever lovin’ mind?”

  It was impossible not to laugh at this, but when it died away, Charlotte replied, “I’ve been there. Daniel and his parents moved in circles where money was the only thing that mattered. They used it to manipulate and hurt people. I hated the gossip and the posturing and the insincerity of it all. I escaped it once. I don’t want to go back.”

  “Money can bring out the worst in people,” Lanelle agreed, nodding. “But let me ask you this—does he look like the kind of person you’re talking about?”

  Charlotte followed Lanelle’s eyes to where Nate stood patiently throwing the ball with Taylor. He jumped sideways, his long arm stretched out to catch the six-year old’s wild throw. “Not exactly. But I don’t know him at all.”

  “And you won’t get to know him by sitting here with me. Why don’t you go play?”

  “But I’m no good.”

  Lanelle chuckled. “Even better. Nate can give you some pointers.”

  “It would be good if I knew what I was doing so I could practice with Taylor.” Charlotte stood up and sat her glass down on the tray.

  “Sure, sure. If you need to justify it.”

  “Thanks,” Charlotte said. “For the lemonade, I mean.”

  Lanelle chuckled. “You’ll thank me for the meddling too, someday.”

  Painfully aware of Lanelle’s interested gaze, Charlotte walked over and stood next to Nate. She elbowed him softly. “Do you want to teach me how to play?”

  He looked down at her and his smile made her heart pump double time. “Absolutely. Just try not to break a window. Or Taylor’s nose.”

  Charlotte rolled her eyes and held her hand out for the ball. She could do this. It couldn’t be that hard. But then Nate dropped the ball in her palm and adjusted her grip on it. The touch of his fingers on hers turned her muscles to mush, and she knew she’d be lucky to throw it more than a few feet.

  “Okay, let’s see what you’ve got.”

  Drawing her arm back, she did her best to throw it to Taylor. It fell about six feet short, and that was including the generous roll once it hit the ground. She looked up at Nate and from the set of his lips, he was trying hard not to laugh.

  “Okay Taylor,” he said after a moment. “You’d better move closer. Way closer.”

  Charlotte didn’t even mind how terrible he was, because Nate moved closer too. He wrapped his hand around her wrist as he showed her how to throw correctly, and Charlotte hoped it would be a while before she figured this out.

  Chapter Six

  Unlike the first practice when it had been warm and humid, the weather had turned overcast and cool. A massive system of storms was rolling into the area, and the wind had already arrived. It was blowing away hats and throwing up the fine red dust from the infield every time a gust swept through. The boys were having fun though, so Nate kept practice going but watched the western sky for any sign of lightning.

  “Okay, it’s coming your way, Brady.”

  Brady jumped and got into position to field the ball, putting his glove on the ground. Nate rolled him the ball and watched as it slipped right past Brady’s glove and through his legs. “You’ve got to move your glove,” he reminded the boy.

  While Brady chased after the ball, he heard someone call his name. Turning, he saw Charlotte beckoning him from the fence. As he walked over to her, he let his eyes roam over her, noting her long-sleeved black t-shirt and skinny jeans that showed off her great legs. Unfortunately, he couldn’t see her face because the wind blew her hair across it as fast as she could brush it back. She tried holding it back with both hands. But as soon as she opened her mouth to talk, the wind gusted hard and blew dust in her face.

  As she coughed and spit, Nate shifted to try to block the worst of it from her.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  She spit one more time, then looked up at him with a scowl. “What a day to not have a hair tie. This wind is driving me crazy. Any chance you’re going to wrap up early because of the weather?”

  “Not unless I have to. Why?”

  Her eyebrows pinched together. “I have a guy from the city headed over to my house and I need to meet him. I didn’t even know they worked this late.”

  “You want me to take Taylor home so you can go now?”

  Charlotte’s expression relaxed into a smile. “You don’t mind?”

  “Not at all. You go on home and take care of things.”

  “Thanks, Nate. I owe you one.”

  “Coach!” Brady called.

  Nate turned just in time to see Brady hurling the ball at him. Throwing out his hand, he caught it right before it hit Charlotte square in the nose. She stared at his hand, only six inches from her face. “I guess I owe you twice.”

  “This one’s on the house.”

  Charlotte smiled and yelled across the field, “Hey Taylor, Nate is going to take you home after practice, okay?”

  Taylor waved his gloved hand at her. “Okay.”

  Charlotte looked at her phone, then back at him. “Thanks. I’ve got to run.”

  Taking note of her urgency, he hoped nothing was wrong. At least he could check on her when he dropped Taylor off.

  Thirty minutes later, thunder rumbled in the distance and a flicker of lightening flashed on the horizon.

  Josh, one of the dads who helped out with the team, looked up at the darkening sky. “It’s blowin’ up a storm.”

  “Yeah.” Nate turned and yelled out across the field, “Let’s pack it in. Everybody go home.”

  The parents all hurried their kids along and helped him gather up his equipment. Nate called Taylor over to him. “I’m taking you home, buddy.”

  “Awesome! I get to ride in your truck.”

  Rain drops landed on the soft dirt with a muffled thud. Knowing it was going to start pouring soon, Nate pressed his hand against Taylor’s back. “Let’s run.”

  Nate was surprised at how fast Taylor was. The kid was a natural athlete. He struggled more than some of the other players, but it was clearly from lack of experience, not ability. Nate wondered about his dad and why he hadn’t spent more time playing with the kid.

  As they got to his truck and climbed inside, the memory of Charlotte learning to play catch last week still amused him. She was the epitome of grace, except when a hard object was being hurled her direction.

  Shaking off his thoughts, Nate glanced in the rear-view mirror to make sure Taylor had buckled, then turned on the windshield wipers and drove out of the parking lot. Charlotte’s house was only a three-minute drive from the ball fields, but it was already raining heavily by t
he time he pulled into her driveway. “We’ll have to make a run for it again,” he said to Taylor, who had already unbuckled.

  They ran across the yard with their shoulders hunched against the cold rain. Nate straightened as they moved under the porch, grimacing as water ran down his back. He raised his hand to knock, but of course Taylor just opened the door and ran inside. Nate felt awkward following him, but didn’t know what else to do.

  The door opened directly into a dim room with a floral, wood-framed sofa and a fire place. He glanced around, noting unpacked boxes and several pairs of shoes against the wall. Dark shadows stretched across the hardwood floors, thrown by the light coming through the doorway at the back of the room.

  As he followed Taylor through the house, he heard Charlotte’s voice. The low-pitched tones and slightly rough nuances of her voice reached out to him, and he thought again how much he enjoyed the sound of it.

  The first thing he noticed about her was that she’d pulled her hair back into a messy ponytail. Remembering her fight with the wind earlier, he smiled. She stirred a small pot on the stove while she talked on the phone, washed in the glow from the hood light over her head.

  “Hey, Mom,” Taylor said, oblivious to the fact that she was on the phone. “We’re back.”

  Charlotte glanced over her shoulder and her eyes widened when she saw Nate. Her surprised expression made him uncomfortable about coming in, but he relaxed when a smile spread over her face. She motioned to her phone and mouthed, “Sorry,” before focusing on her call again.

  Taylor leaned around her and stood on his toes to peer into the pot. “Yes. She made ramen.”

  Charlotte stepped away to the dining area, probably so she could hear whoever she was talking to, so Nate strolled over to stand next to Taylor at the stove. “You know, I haven’t eaten this since college.”

  “Do you want some?” Taylor asked.

  “I’d better not. Not unless your mom invites me.”

  “Mom!”

  She glanced his way, and held out one finger, signaling for him to wait.

  “It’s alright. Let her get off the phone. Want me to get some for you?”