The Billionaire's Secret: A BWWM Romance Mystery

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The Billionaire's Secret: A BWWM Romance Mystery Page 8

by Mia Caldwell


  "What about those?" she poked one of the white chrysanthemums. "Do they say something?"

  I swallowed hard. "Truth," I said grimly. Kiki and Jazzy both looked at me sharply.

  "Did he lie to you?"

  I shook my head. "No. I don't know. I don't think so." I walked over to the couch and sank into it, defeated. "I believe him for some reason...and I hate myself for it."

  Kiki walked over and sat next to me, patting my leg in sympathy, but Jazzy was still staring at the bouquet. "Pine needles are getting all over my counter," she observed. "I suppose he's telling you something with those as well?"

  I nodded and yanked on the throw blanket. Kiki shifted, letting me pull it up to my chin. For some reason it made me feel better to clutch it as I said, "Those I don't quite get. They may be filler. They could just be seasonal foliage." I shook my head. "But that's not Liam's way. Pine has two meanings, one is pity...."

  "Boy best hope that ain't it," Jazzy said darkly, slipping back into West Philly-speak for a second.

  "But I don't think so." I shook my head. "The other meaning, well, that's hope."

  Kiki made a little "aw" noise, then clapped her hand over her mouth. "Sorry Shay."

  I patted her knee. "Don't change."

  Jasmine was still eying the bouquet like it had offended her mother. "What about this? Seems really random." She poked the red tulip and I turned away.

  "Red tulips, well, they have two meanings." I swallowed hard again as I remembered how he had kissed me in the greenhouse out in Longwood while the tulips swayed around us. There was meaning in them all right. He knew me well enough to know what tulips would remind me of. "They mean 'believe me.'"

  Jasmine plopped herself onto the couch next to me. "Okay, spill it."

  "Last night, at the shop," I started. Images of Liam's face between my legs, that deep dimpled smile as he watched me writhe around his fingers. "Last night, he stopped by and...."

  "You're awfully squirmy about it," Jazzy rightly pointed out.

  "We...made up," I finally sighed.

  "Aw," Kiki squeaked again.

  "But?" Jasmine could be a real bulldog when she wanted information. Served her well in her research but made it awfully uncomfortable when her research subject was you.

  "But...," I shot another look over at the bouquet. "I asked him to tell me the truth from now on...and he did."

  "I take it the truth was not something you liked hearing?"

  I looked at them both. "He said that he would always leave if Lily called. Because I was strong and...and she isn't...."

  Jasmine whistled through her teeth. Kiki jumped up like I had scalded her. "Hang on," she said darkly and raced into Jasmine's office.

  "So Lily is for sure his girlfriend and you dumped his sorry, cheating ass, right?" Jasmine said thunderously. When I didn't answer immediately, she pinched the back of my arm.

  "Ow! I did! I thought I did. But..." I rubbed my arm, "but he swore he was telling me the truth when he said that Lily wasn't his girlfriend...and that there was only me. He said I'd just have to trust him."

  Jasmine growled. Kiki emerged from Jazzy's office, holding the laptop in her hands. "Okay, I need information here," she said, plopping back down next to me and typing rapidly. "Is this him?"

  She turned the laptop to me and there was row upon row of Liam's face looking back at us. "I image searched him," Kiki explained. "Damn. He is one fine looking brother."

  "He's white," Jasmine clarified.

  Kiki cocked her head. "He's pretty tan for a white guy."

  "He's rich," I explained. "Vacations in the tropics and all that."

  She clicked on one of the pictures. "Damn, I guess he is. Says here William Graves is the only child of Dahlia Jessop Graves, who can trace her family back to William Penn's time. They're one of the oldest and richest families of Main Line Philadelphia."

  "That explains how he got hyacinths in the dead of winter," Jasmine deadpanned.

  But I was too busy reading. There was more information on Liam than I had ever considered, but none of it explained...him. His board's holdings, his charitable contributions, the events he attended, those were all available with the click of a trackpad. But as for his personal life, the only thing I could see was that there wasn't much to see.

  Or for Dahlia, for that matter. She looked out of the screen at me with clear blue eyes that looked nothing like her son's gray storms. She was pale, milky-white even, while Liam was bronzed. She had a cap of sleek, straight white hair cut into a chin length bob. He kept his hair short, but I could tell it would be curly if he let it grow.

  Whoever Liam's father was, he had left his mark on him.

  I clicked through silently for a second, hoping to read something about his father. But the Graves family either never spoke to the press or had an excellent PR person. There wasn't a hint of anything about who fathered the man who communicated with me in flowers.

  "Hey, I want to read something, gimme that a sec?" Kiki slid the monitor into her lap.

  I collapsed back on the couch and closed my eyes. "What do I do, guys? He asked me to trust him. He swore he wasn't a cheater...and I believe him."

  "You believe him," Jasmine echoed. Not judging, just letting me hear my own words back again.

  "I do. But I believed Tre too. I'm no good at this. They say trust your gut, but my gut is defective."

  "Maybe you just let it die out?" Jasmine ventured. "Don't respond to him, just let it fade away?"

  "I don't think he'll do that," Kiki piped up.

  "Why do you say that?"

  "The bouquet." She stabbed the monitor of the laptop with her finger. "Red tulips. Did you know they have more than one meaning?"

  I looked at her. "Believe me...and..."

  She looked at me with her wide eyes even wider. "Declaration of love."

  Chapter Seventeen

  "It's like he learned about dating from a manual or something. Published in the 1950s. Or he read a book about what men are supposed to be like and committed it to memory," Jasmine shook her head.

  More bouquets were arriving each day. Daffodils for "you're the only one." A random nosegay of dandelions that made Jasmine laugh herself into hiccups before I looked them up and explained they meant faithfulness. Enough purple hyacinths to take over the apartment. I found myself wishing he would place the orders at Mrs. Young's. He'd be able to keep us afloat singlehandedly.

  I also found myself yielding. The sprig of ivy with the white tendrils almost sent me to the phone. 'Anxious to please,' it meant and it was so lovely in such a simple little way. The tin of nuts made me laugh out loud for the first time in weeks, then laugh again when I explained to a bewildered Kiki that they represented stupidity. Jasmine's brown eyes gleamed as she popped one into her mouth. "Maybe you should invite this boy over. If nothing else, I like his humility."

  I had my mouth open, ready to pop a macadamia into it, when I froze and stared at Jazzy. "That's it!" I cried

  "That's what?"

  "You guys. You need to meet him and tell me if he's sincere or not. I didn't listen to you about Tre and I'm not doing that again."

  Jasmine nodded sagely and Kiki clapped her hands. "Invite him over. You know I'll tell you the brutal truth," Jazzy said, and I got the distinct impression that she wanted to rub her hands together in evil glee.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Kit was now openly staring from the back room. I pressed the door closed on him - as gently as I could - and turned back to Liam.

  "Thank you for getting back to me," he said. Even his dimple looked grateful.

  "You wore me down," I exhaled.

  "That was the idea," he grinned sheepishly.

  "You're a very persistent man who doesn't know how to take no for an answer."

  Liam raised his eyebrows. "I would have stopped if you told me no, Shay. But, I thought very hard about it, and I couldn't remember a single time you actually said the word 'no.'" He leaned forward, and brushed his lip
s against my lobe. "Except when you were telling me 'no stopping' while I ate your pussy."

  My mouth fell open, in shock and a flood of desire at the memory. "Of course I told you no!"

  He shook his head. "You didn't," he moved a little closer. "You told me you wouldn't be my other woman." His gray eyes darkened. "But since you weren't...and you still aren't...."

  "You didn't listen to me."

  He nodded, his dimple flashing. "I listened to what you meant."

  I blew out a puff of breath. "You...."

  He took my hand and brushed his lips across my knuckles. "Me," he nodded.

  "You're maddening."

  "You're fascinating."

  I inhaled sharply. No one had even called me fascinating before. "You're arrogant and controlling."

  "You don't trust your own instincts."

  My shoulders slumped. "You got me there."

  He tilted my chin up. "And yeah, I'm pretty controlling. I'm working on that." He grinned. "You're helping." He bent his lips, closer, closer, holding back, "Ah!" he teased, pulling back as soon as I started reaching for him. "I have a condition, though. When I kiss you again, it's for real. You believe me when I tell you you're it."

  I watched his face, breathless with how near he was. Those instincts I was learning to trust were screaming at me to kiss him, kiss him now, and never stop kissing him. "Okay," I half-moaned, "I believe you."

  I finally did.

  "Shay." The way he said my name was just sinful. Like a whisper of a promise, it slid across his tongue, more breath than word. It was a sigh and a song at the same time and it made my toes curl. I strained upward, wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him to me, eager to close the distance I was tired of feeling.

  When he finally kissed me, I knew it was with everything he had. Relief, desire, pent-up yearning, he poured it all out into the intensity of his kiss. His mouth covered mine, the heat searing and intense. We stayed that way, locked in a frantic embrace, for maybe forever, I wasn't sure.

  I was breathless, my breasts heaving, when he finally pulled away.

  "I have a condition too," I panted, holding up my hand.

  "Talk quickly," he growled against my ear.

  I pushed lightly on his chest. "You keep taking me on these incredible dates to impress me, but I barely know you. I need you to stop trying to impress me and be normal."

  He stepped back, looking slightly stunned. A flicker of a wistful grin twitched on his face. "I'd love to be normal," he said. "Tell me how."

  "Hang out with me," I urged. "Spend time with me...without all the grand gestures. Not everything has to be a huge production."

  He blinked and hesitated. I could see the muscle jumping at his chiseled jawline. I held my breath until he finally agreed, "Okay."

  I smiled widely and touched his collar. "Come over and hang out with my friends tomorrow. We'll make dinner." I couldn't keep the excitement out of my voice.

  He paused. Swallowed. Then nodded. "Okay, Shay. Let's be normal."

  Chapter Nineteen

  This time, when I closed up the shop, I wasn't surprised to see him standing there.

  But everything else about him was surprising.

  The first thing I noticed was that he was wearing jeans. My eyes trailed up his long legs to take in the unzipped leather jacket and the white Henley underneath. Casual dress.

  "Is this the real Liam?" I asked him. If it was, I heartily approved.

  "It might be," he replied cryptically.

  "Close your eyes," I instructed.

  "Why?" He dutifully closed his eyes and I went to the refrigerator case.

  "You keep buying me presents. I wanted to get something for you." Shyly, I pulled the flowerpot out of the case. It looked so much smaller now, so much more inadequate. Meager, even. The tiny little blossoms were nothing compared to the dazzling bouquets he had showered me with.

  "Okay, open them," I told him, setting the pot in his hands.

  Several different emotions flicked across his sculpted face. Confusion, amusement, and then deep, beautiful gratitude. I felt my heart jump to see it.

  "What do they mean?" he asked immediately.

  "Well, you got right to the heart of it, didn't you?"

  "I'm still trying to learn," he smiled, showing that devastating dimple.

  I had to tear my eyes away from his face if I had a hope of making sense. "Well, the flower itself is traditionally masculine." I began blushing immediately. "Gallantry," I swallowed.

  "That's good," he said, his voice a little thicker.

  "They are often given," I continued, "just to brighten someone's day."

  "It worked." He touched the red and white petals. "What are they called?"

  I giggled. "Sweet William."

  His gray eyes darkened. "You think I'm sweet?"

  I recognized the dark danger in his eyes, and momentarily flashed back to his face between my thighs. My voice wavered a little as I said, "They are also given as a sign of perfection. To tell the recipient that they are as good as it gets."

  He kissed me roughly. "I haven't even shown you how good it can be."

  I pulled back, blinking. "We're hanging out," I reminded him, even though my whole body was on fire.

  "You are a very bossy lady," he complained.

  "And you're terrible at following directions," I teased.

  He gripped my upper arm, lightly, but with enough force to let me know he had me. "That's because I'm used to giving them," he murmured in my ear.

  "Oh?" I exhaled. "So if you were in charge right now, what would you do?"

  "Spread your sweet thighs on this counter and make you scream my name again."

  "You're awfully cocky for someone with one foot still in the doghouse."

  He arched his eyebrow and said nothing. But he didn't let go of my arm.

  He held on to it all the way to Jasmine's building, guiding me along the slippery streets with a firm, protective hand. The sun had been warm today, and all the melted snow was now refreezing as darkness fell. Twice I nearly slipped and was grateful for his tight grip on me. Sometimes he held me so tightly, I wondered if his fingers would leave marks on me.

  I liked the idea.

  I had no idea why I liked the idea.

  Kiki was already over and the apartment was already steamy and overly warm. I unwound my scarf, "Hi honeys, we're home!" I called into the bustle. I shot a look over to Liam. Some of that arrogance had slid from his face, replaced with nervousness about meeting my best friends.

  It was kind of charming.

  Jasmine strode over, a chef's knife casually gripped in her left hand. I saw Liam eye it before he shook her right one. "You're Liam, huh?" she raised her eyebrows. "I'll have you know my place smelled like rotted flowers for a week."

  He laughed and shook her hand. "You must be Jasmine. I'm sorry, I thought Shay would know how to take better care of flowers."

  "I'll have you know I spend all day taking care of flowers. For work." I nudged him. "When I get home, no more watering or trimming."

  "Mmm," Jasmine rumbled noncommittally, then casually glanced at her knife before heading back into the kitchen.

  "Liam, it's so great to meet you," Kiki gushed. I felt myself relax when she grabbed his hand and pumped it enthusiastically up and down. "I'm Keysha. Kiki."

  "It's wonderful to meet you as well, Kiki." Liam seemed just as charmed as he should be.

  Just then a buzzer sounded. "Whoops, gotta go grab that before it starts smoking." Kiki whirled on her heel, a slightly crazed look in her wide eyes.

  I shot a look at Liam, who shrugged. "How'd I do?" he mouthed.

  "So far so good," I told him. "Shall we head into the fray?" I took his reluctant hand and pulled him into the hive of estrogen that was the kitchen.

  He stood in the corner for a moment, his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans. "You didn't have to go to the trouble of cooking," he grumbled. "I could have taken us all out."

&nb
sp; I opened my mouth to protest but Jazzy beat me to it, of course.

  "Nope." Jasmine grabbed an apron off the hook in the corner and shoved it in his direction. "Put this on so you don't mess up those nice jeans. How are you with chopping?"

 

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