Heartbreaker: Billionaires of White Oaks

Home > Other > Heartbreaker: Billionaires of White Oaks > Page 8
Heartbreaker: Billionaires of White Oaks Page 8

by Scott, Lizabeth


  My eyes travel between the two ladies. Stumped. I’m completely stumped. How did they know? After waiting for Ms. Blanche to pack some cookies in a tin for the road and goodbye hugs that reminded me of my own grandmother, we are finally able to escape.

  Once we step on the sidewalk, I have to ask. “How did they know about the show? Did you tell them?”

  April laughs and shakes her head. “No, I didn’t tell anyone but Rachael. Ms. Edna and Ms. Blanche are…special.”

  I scratch my head over that one. “They must be as old as the mill.”

  April shushes me. “You better not let them hear you say that. According to Ms. Blanche, they are seventy years young. And they have been for at least the last eight years.” April giggles and almost falls off the sidewalk.

  I grab her as she stumbles, and finally, I have her back in my arms. Our eyes connect, and I need her. Without a second thought, I press my lips to hers. She feels so good against my chest. Her warm, soft lips melt under mine, firing an instant craving that makes me swell. The sensible part of me says to stop, but the part that’s in control at the moment takes the kiss deeper. I slip between her parted lips. Just before our tongues touch, she moans, and pleasure like I’ve never experienced hits me like a shockwave to my chest.

  As much as I’d like to keep her lips on mine, we are in a parking lot. Anyone could look out a window or walk by at any moment and see us. April wouldn’t want that to happen. Especially since she considers me a client first. With one more sweet kiss, I regretfully pull back. Her blue eyes are confused, cloudy with desire, and fixed upon my mouth.

  She tries to take a step back, but stumbles. I take her arm until she’s steady on her feet. “We…we’re late.”

  I tip her chin up so she’s looking into my eyes. “At some point, we are going to need to talk about this.”

  She pauses before she nods. “Okay. But not now. Now, we need to go.”

  The wariness on her face makes me place a hand on the small of her back and steer her toward my car. My phone rings and I ignore the call. Kent can’t interrupt my time off. Within a few minutes, we’re on I-40 heading south. “So, tell me about those lovely ladies.”

  April

  Sitting in Elias’s rental car, I don’t even try to hold in my laughter. The expression on his face when I walked into Ms. Edna’s and found him holding one of their cabbage rose teacups was simply too hysterical. “I told you to stay in your car and text me.”

  Elias sighs. “I tried. They knocked on my window as I was texting you, then the next thing I know we’re drinking tea and eating cookies while they tell me all about the mill.”

  “They were just excited to meet you. You know, they watch your show all the time. I thought you’d be safe if you didn’t get out. I guess I underestimated them. Over the years, I’ve learned it’s best not to question the power of Ms. Edna and Ms. Blanche.”

  “Well, I’m just glad you came when you did. I have no idea what they would have talked me into next.”

  I glance at his handsome face and my stomach flutters. I had been so close to dragging him up to my apartment and having my wicked way with him. All my plans for keeping things between us friendly and professional melted away the moment his lips had claimed mine. And that was exactly the way it felt—as if he’d claimed my mouth. Never had a kiss affected me so profoundly. Our kiss by the Falls had been the same. I have to control my runaway hormones. Professional. That’s what I need to remember. Back to wedding plans.

  I pull my laptop out of my bag and open it on my lap. “I ordered sex…six,” I stumble quickly over the misspoken word without taking a breath and continue, “boxes of string lights for the barn.” I cough into my hands when I finish speaking, feeling my face begin to heat from my blunder. If I have any luck at all, Elias didn’t catch my error. I keep my face locked onto my computer's startup screen.

  “Do you think that will be enough?” he asks.

  I glance over and let the breath I’d been holding slowly escape. While Elias drives, we discuss Belinda’s wedding, our plans for the Manor, and anything I could think of, except that kiss. Nothing even remotely close to personal topics, for which I was thankful. I relax and actually enjoy our drive and Elias’s company. He isn’t anything like I’d imagined. I even forget that he’s a celebrity. Which is dangerous. I’m much too attracted to him, and it would be stupid to forget that he’s only in town for another week. Then he’ll go back to California and his life, which is far away from mine.

  Once we enter the town of Weston, my heart breaks as we drive through the muddy streets. The once-bustling town looks like a war zone that’s going through a rebuilding stage. Only a few businesses are open, and those that aren’t are either boarded up or have construction work in progress.

  “Look.” Elias points toward the row of buildings. “You can see the water line of the flood. I’d say the town was under a good three feet of water.”

  My eyes follow the dark, muddy strip at the bottom of each building. “It’s so sad. The flood happened almost four weeks ago, and they still have so far to go. It’s a good thing the show is doing by helping the Wolcott’s rebuild.”

  “We’ll do all we can for them. Our team is really good at pulling off the impossible.”

  Elias reaches into his pocket and pulls out a piece of paper. “Here, would you plug the Wolcotts’ address into your GPS and get us there?”

  After a few turns down muddy asphalt roads, we pull up to what remains of the Wolcott home. Mr. Wolcott is working on removing waterlogged furniture and debris from the house. After introductions, Mr. Wolcott—Dan, as he asked us to call him—takes us on a tour of the house.

  Their home is a two-story with a great room, dining room, kitchen, laundry room, and master bedroom with bath downstairs. The children’s bedrooms are upstairs and thankfully were not affected by the flooding, other than the musty smell. I don’t know much about flooding, but I can tell most of the sheetrock will need to be replaced. I also imagine much of the framing will need to be, too. If Elias’s show is going to be doing an extensive job, I hope they change up a bit of the layout. The Wolcotts could use a larger kitchen and a powder room on the lower level, which could be accomplished by only shifting a few walls.

  In less than thirty minutes, Ms. Wolcott—Marie—showed up. The young couple have three children under the age of seven, and they’re all staying in a friend’s basement while they figure out their next step. We learn that it isn’t only the loss of their home they are fighting to overcome—Marie has recently been diagnosed with breast cancer. She’s to begin her first treatments next week. As beat down as the couple could be with all they’ve been through, they are the exact opposite. I can only imagine how inspirational this family will be to viewers.

  I watch Elias interact with the couple, and my heart flutters seeing how he really cares about the family. He wants to do whatever he and the show can do to help the young family find their new normal.

  As they speak about rebuilding, I’m happy to hear him suggest a few improvements to their original floor plan, which Marie loves. She squeals when she realizes she’ll finally have her dream kitchen.

  “The show’s producer and a few others will be coming within the next weeks to get things started,” Elias explains.

  “And you really think you can finish in three weeks?” Marie asks, her eyes bright with hope.

  Elias chuckles. “It’s what we do. We might be able to finish in two weeks, but there’s a chance it might be longer with all the flooding issues we may run into. All I can promise is that your house will be safe and comfortable when we’re finished.”

  “I watch your show all the time,” Marie says, “You do a marvelous job with the construction, and I love Gen’s designs.”

  “Thank you. She does a great job. We’re very lucky to have her on the show.”

  “I’ll be honest, I didn’t much care for the first designer you had.”

  I chuckle, and I have to agree. “Not
many people did. That’s why Gen came onboard after the first season,” he explains.

  Marie’s eyes dart between me and Elias, and she seems embarrassed to ask, “Is Gen your girlfriend? You have so much chemistry on the show.”

  My ears perk up. While I love Gen too, I suddenly have a strong feeling of dislike for the cute, sweet, petite blond woman that Elias interacts with on the show.

  “No. She’s not. Her husband wouldn’t appreciate that,” Elias answers.

  Marie turns to me, “So, April’s your girlfriend. You make a cute couple.”

  I’m too stunned by the comment to answer. My gaze clashes with Elias’s, and the spark of humor in his eyes sends my head spinning. “No. No, I’m his sister’s wedding planner. We just met,” I finally offer, but the smiles on Marie and Dan’s faces make me very uncomfortable. They don’t believe a word I said. “Well… it’s getting pretty late, and we have a long trip home.”

  “You should stay.” Marie pulls me back down on the lawn chair she’d been sitting in.

  “You could stay overnight and head back in the morning,” Dan says, and turns to Elias. “There’s a benefit concert and barbeque tonight raising money for the town. If you wouldn’t mind, saying you’d be there would help a lot.”

  I feel Elias’s eyes asking my preference. I can tell he really wants to stay. Going back home and sleeping in my own bed, which isn’t anywhere near Elias’s, would be the smart thing to do. Then my gaze goes back to the Wolcotts’ anxious faces. How can I disappoint them? “Sure. We could do that. But where would we spend the night? Are there any hotels nearby that are open?”

  Marie perks up. “No. No hotels, but Aunt Rita has a spare room.”

  “Room?” I sputter, but nobody pays me any attention. The conversation is already on to the subject of the bands playing.

  I sit on a bale of hay in a huge barn that had been cleaned of mud and decorated for the fundraiser. I tap my foot to the beat as the Monday Blues Band plays an upbeat country song. My eyes follow Elias as he dances with yet another young girl. I can’t help smiling at the sweet picture they make. This girl couldn’t be more than twelve and is obviously a fan of his show. I grin and dunk a hush puppy from my almost empty plate in ketchup, pop it in my mouth, and chew the delicious fried cornbread with a satisfied sigh.

  “Elias certainly has been popular tonight, hasn’t he?” Marie asks, fanning a hand in front of her face to stir a cooling breeze.

  I swallow and wipe my mouth with a paper napkin. “It’s not every day you get to dance with a celebrity.”

  Marie’s eyebrows rise as she says, “Especially such a handsome one.”

  I grin and agree. Elias is handsome. When I look back to the dance floor, I don’t see Elias, but then high-pitched squeals have me turning toward the back of the barn, where I see a line of teenage girls and grandmas waiting to have their picture taken with him. I chuckle and settle into the scratchy hay to watch the show. I feel like I know Elias well enough to tell he’s uncomfortable with all the attention being heaped on him tonight, but he’s taking it all in stride.

  He’s been dancing almost the entire evening, and not once has he appeared to be distracted or anything but gracious and kind. Even to the women who tried to dance a little too closely. I wonder what it would be like to be in the public eye like Elias. It has to be hard to have your life open for anyone to see and comment on. My skin simply isn’t thick enough to handle such public scrutiny.

  I sit up straighter when a blonde wearing cutoffs and a too-tight pink t-shirt saunters her way toward the head of the line. My eyes narrow as she stops a foot away from Elias, reaches into her bra, pulls something out, and then places it in Elias’s shirt pocket with a pat. I scowl when her hand rests a bit too long over his pocket. If I were a betting woman, I’d wager that Elias is now in possession of the blonde’s phone number. I give her a scathing sneer. She doesn’t see it, but it makes me feel better. That probably happens to him all the time.

  Thinking back, I’ve never really seen his name associated with any women in the tabloids or entertainment news shows. Sure, he’d been photographed with dates at award shows or premiere openings, but never a romantic tryst. Was his publicist that good, or did he keep a low dating profile?

  “May I have this dance?” Elias interrupts my wandering mind. I look down to see his hand waiting for mine, and I get a thrill when we touch. I can almost hear a collective sigh from the women in attendance.

  “Are you sure you have time?” I nod toward the string of women across the room watching every move he makes. “That looks like a long line of adoring fans.” He pulls me up from my scratchy seat and pulls a bit too hard, making me fall into his chest.

  He looks into my eyes and grins, making my heart flutter. “They were, but I told them you had been a wallflower long enough, and since nobody else would take you on, it would have to be me.”

  I sputter, unable to get a word out. “Wha…” Then I see the teasing glint in his eyes. I give him what I hope is a stern look and try to ignore the warm sensation blooming up my arm as Elias leads me onto the dance floor.

  The thing I like best about country music is that you can do some form of slow dance to just about all of them. I face Elias and assume the position—one hand on the man’s shoulder and the other hand in the gentleman’s hand. I did attend Ms. Debbie’s School of Dance, after all.

  One corner of Elias’s mouth curls upward into a smirk as he shakes his head, puts both of his hands around my waist and pulls me close. Very close. Inappropriately close. My arms have no choice but to wrap around his neck. A shiver goes down my spine when he hooks his thumbs in my back pockets, positioning his hands below my waist and right on my butt. My nipples swell into hard rocks. I arch my shoulders when the fabric rubs the sensitive nubs as Elias moves us slowly around the crowded floor.

  “What are you doing?” I stare at his chin and hope he doesn’t hear the breathiness in my voice.

  “We’re dancing. What did you think we were doing?”

  I feel his hands caress my bottom and I want to swoon. Do women do that anymore? I have no idea, but it fits the way I feel perfectly. “This isn’t how you danced with the others.”

  He pulls back and looks at me, his eyes sparkling with laughter. “So, you were keeping an eye on me?”

  If I tip my head up just a little bit more, he’ll be close enough to kiss, and that’s a problem. Or is it? So I stare at the patch of tanned skin revealed around the collar of his shirt. “No. I mean I wasn’t watching you. But occasionally I’d glance your way.”

  He rests his cheek against the side of my head, and I can feel his breath on my ear when he murmurs, “Um hum. Don’t worry. I was only being polite. That’s the way I dance when I’m being polite.”

  “Why aren’t you being polite to me?” I lean back so I can see his face.

  He looks into my eyes as the room around us spins by. “I don’t think I need to answer that. You already know.”

  I sink into his arms, placing my cheek over his heart. I could stay like this forever. “Elias…what are we doing?”

  I feel his sigh. “I know you feel it, April. You want me just as much as I want you.”

  My head pops back up. “I want to eat a dozen donuts, but that doesn’t mean it would be good for me.”

  “Did you just compare me to a donut?” He chuckles and squeezes my bottom. I don’t mind at all.

  “You know what I mean. I’ve told you how important this job is to us.”

  His head moves dangerously closer. “Being with me isn’t going to change what happens with Belinda’s wedding. I’ve seen your plans. You’re going to do an amazing job. Belinda is going to have her dream wedding.” He brushes his lips over mine and a soft moan escapes me. “That, April. That sound right there is why I want more.”

  Shamelessly, I pull his head down for more when we’re interrupted.

  “Excuse me,” Dan interrupts. “Marie and I are leaving in about ten minutes. If y
ou’re ready, we’ll show you to Aunt Rita’s. She’s excited to have you stay.”

  “Of course. We’ll be right there.” Elias continues to hold me in his arms as we follow Dan’s weaving progress off the dance floor. With one finger, Elias tips my chin upward. “Just so we’re clear. I want you tonight; however, the decision is yours.”

  I want to say yes. Being with Elias already feels different, new, exciting. But at what cost?

  Aunt Rita turns out to be a sweet older lady who has a massive crush on Elias. I feel my heart warming as I watch him pour on the charm. The extra room Dan told us about ends up being a one-bedroom garage apartment behind Aunt Rita’s house. While I’m glad we have some privacy, I’m also terrified because we have too much privacy. I wonder if I’m afraid of what might happen between us in the Wedding Ring quilt-covered bed, or am I more afraid that it won’t? But Elias said nothing will happen tonight unless I want it to. I definitely want it to happen, but I’m still on the fence about it being the smartest decision.

  I finish brushing my teeth with a new toothbrush I found in a drawer, pull on the nightgown Aunt Rita left for me, then step into the hallway. Elias has already taken off his shirt while waiting for me to finish in the bathroom. I look away quickly and feel my cheeks heating when he catches me gawking. He walks toward me with his tanned chest, broad shoulders, and an excellent display of hard, tight muscles to tempt me. I want to reach out and touch as he passes by, but instead, I dig my nails into my palms. “I’ll just be a minute,” he says as he leaves the room.

  My lungs feel depleted of oxygen. I start toward the bed and nervously tuck my hair behind my ears. When the bathroom door clicks shut, I deflate like a giant balloon at the fair after the dart hits it. I sink down on the mattress and flop backward, spreading my arms out wide. I am in so much trouble. I grab my purse and pull my phone out to text Rachael.

  April: We’re staying over.

 

‹ Prev