The Jilted Billionaire Groom

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The Jilted Billionaire Groom Page 6

by Youngblood, Jennifer


  “Yes, and I got it, but this is just pizza.” A smile played on his lips as a devilish glint lit his eyes. “Unless you’d rather Sumo Wrestle instead. I wouldn’t mind getting you on the mat,” he said softly. His eyes lingered on her lips. “Maybe steal another kiss.”

  She could feel her face blaring like a neon sign.

  “Which will it be? Wrestling or pizza?”

  The challenge in his mesmerizing eyes broke down her last defense. “Okay,” she heard herself say. “We’ll get pizza.” When the warning bells went off in her head, she silenced them. After all, it was just pizza. What harm could there be in that?

  Chapter 6

  Now that the sun was setting, the air had taken on just enough chill to make the fire burning in the pit feel cozy. Finley glanced at Sunny, memorizing the outline of her flawless bone structure. His eye followed the trail of her delicate neckline. She had such an exotic flair with her dark eyes and sable hair that gleamed like polished wood. She felt his gaze and angled to face him, a smile touching her full lips. “What?”

  “You’re so beautiful,” he blurted.

  A deep flush brushed her cheekbones as if she’d borrowed a touch of the splendor of the vibrant pink streaks pushing across the evening sky. She looked down, her thick lashes sweeping across her olive skin. Then she tensed slightly, seeming to draw into herself.

  Oops. The wrong thing to say. Panic flashed over Finley. Things had been going so well the past few hours, and now he’d ruined it with that one statement.

  “Poor Ian’s exhausted,” she mumbled, rubbing her arms. “I’d better get him home and put him to bed.” She glanced through the open double glass doors and into the penthouse where Ian was conked out on the sofa.

  Finley touched her arm, the warmth of her skin seeping into his. “Don’t leave.” His eyes searched hers. “Please. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” Being with Sunny made him feel as though he’d been graced with the presence of a mysterious, beautiful creature. He didn’t want to make any sudden movements or missteps for fear of scaring her away.

  Her features relaxed a fraction as she nodded. “It’s been a wonderful day. Thank you.” She let out a low chuckle. “I still can’t believe you went to the trouble of renting all of those inflatables.”

  He gave her a playful nudge. “Admit it. You loved the bouncy house.”

  An unencumbered laugh escaped her lips. It was warm and rich, floating melodically against the gentle breeze. “It was fun,” she admitted.

  The three of them—Finley, Sunny, and Ian had jumped manically and rolled around in the balls for a good hour. Then they stuffed themselves with more pizza and mile-high shaved ice. Finley couldn’t remember the last time he’d enjoyed himself so much. Afterwards, they came back to his hotel suite where they watched a movie and Ian fell asleep. Even though Finley was quickly growing fond of Ian, it was nice having Sunny to himself.

  The mellowness of the evening settled around them as Finley leaned back against the cushion. He was desperate to learn everything he could about Sunny. He suspected from the way she handled herself and the intelligent light in her eyes that she was well educated. He wondered again how she’d ended up as a maid, but didn’t want to come right out and ask, for fear of offending her.

  “Tell me about yourself,” he said casually. He’d learned from Drake that Sunny was from Montana, which was interesting considering her slight Southern accent. Ian had zero trace of a Southern accent, which must mean that he’d grown up in Montana.

  She folded her arms over her chest, wariness seeping into her eyes. “What do you want to know?”

  Finley’s senses went on full alert. Something was off about Sunny. “How long have you been in Park City?” He’d start with the innocuous questions and work his way to the deeper ones.

  “A few months.”

  “Where did you move from?” He caught her slight hesitation.

  “Bozeman, Montana.”

  “Oh, so you’re a Montana girl, huh?”

  She gave him a fleeting smile. “Yeah.”

  “The summers there are nice.”

  She nodded in agreement.

  “Last year, it was on a Tuesday,” he said with a straight face.

  She jerked slightly and then burst out laughing. After the laughter died down, she shook her head. “That was a good one,” she said appraisingly.

  Her compliment warmed his insides. He stared into the fire rather than at her so she wouldn’t feel like he was giving her the third degree. “Did you grow up in Montana?” This was met with silence. He glanced at her, could tell she was trying to decide how to answer.

  “No,” she finally said. “I grew up in Jacksonville, Florida.”

  “That explains the Southern accent,” he said grinning.

  She looked surprised. “You can hear it?”

  “Yeah, it’s slight, but it’s there.”

  “Yours is thick.” A smile played on her lips. “You have that sexy Texas drawl down to a science,” she said putting on a thick accent.

  He arched an eyebrow. “Oh, so you think I’m sexy? Good to know.” It was fun to watch her cheeks go rosy. Before she could get all cagey, he changed the subject. “Wow, your accent’s impressive. Very authentic.”

  She winked. “Aw, shucks, darling, once a Southern girl, always a Southern girl.”

  “I guess so.” A few beats stretched between them. He angled so he could look her full-on in the face. “Tell me about Ian,” he implored gently.

  Her mouth drew into a taut line. “What do you want to know?”

  “How did you end up becoming a single parent?”

  She sighed, breaking eye contact with him as she stared into the fire. “I was dating a guy.” She shrugged. “I assumed he cared as much about me as I him. When he found out I was pregnant, he wanted nothing to do with me.” Regret sounded in her voice. “One day I was living my life like normal. The next, I found myself with a son.”

  “It must’ve been hard.”

  “You have no idea.” She shrugged, a small smile curving her lips. “But Ian’s a great kid.” Her jaw tightened, her voice going resigned. “When responsibility comes your way, the only thing you can do is own up to it.” She turned to him. “Unfortunately, life doesn’t always work out the way we wish it would,” she said wistfully.

  The distance between them seemed to shrink. “Sometimes it works out even better than we hope.”

  She blinked a few times and leaned back like she was trying to put space between them. Disappointment settled like bricks in the pit of Finley’s stomach. She was determined to keep him at bay. Maybe it was because she’d been hurt so terribly before that she wouldn’t allow herself to trust anyone again. A part of him wondered if he should become invested in Sunny. He certainly didn’t want another heartache. Then again, this felt different from what happened with Emerson. Deep down, he always knew that Emerson didn’t care about him the same way he did her. He kept telling himself that he could persuade Emerson to change her mind, that his love for her would be strong enough to see them through. That was false thinking. He’d come to learn that love can’t be forced. Also, in retrospect, he wondered if he’d truly been in love with Emerson or just fascinated by the idea of her.

  “Have you always worked as a maid?”

  She let out a self-deprecating laugh. “I know. It’s pathetic, right?” Her eyes grew murky as she swallowed like she was trying to hold back emotion.

  He touched her arm. “There’s no shame in doing an honest day’s work, regardless of what that work is.”

  She nodded, but he could tell that she didn’t believe him. Did he believe it? It went against everything Finley had been taught. As the son of a billionaire, he’d been bred to believe that he was a cut above the rest. His dad shouted from the rooftops that a person’s value was intrinsically tied to his or her contribution to society. But having spoken that statement out loud, he realized the truth of it. Sunny’s value wasn’t tied to how much mo
ney she made or what she did for a living. All the rich, spoiled, high-society women he knew couldn’t hold a candle to Sunny. She was the real deal—a field of fresh, live flowers compared to a truckload of the most sophisticated artificial ones. Sunny was the kind of woman that made him want to be a better man. He suspected that even his mother would be impressed with Sunny. “What did you aspire to become … before Ian?” He thought it might take her a few minutes to respond and was surprised when her answer came swiftly without the slightest hesitation.

  “An interior designer.”

  He rubbed his jaw. “Impressive. What kind of design do you like?”

  “Contemporary, Mid-Century Modern.”

  Finley knew very little about design, but he liked the self-assured light that came into Sunny’s eyes when she spoke of it.

  “What do you think of the design of the hotel?”

  Her eyes widened. “Huh?”

  He waved a hand, encompassing the space. “What do you think of it?”

  “It’s not bad,” she said evasively, her cheeks reddening.

  She looked so adorable when she blushed that he almost wanted to keep saying things that would take her off guard. “You’re a terrible liar,” he countered.

  She sat back. “No, I’m not. The design is fine. Albeit traditional and a bit stodgy for my taste, that doesn’t mean it’s bad. I mean, it was probably great ten years ago when it was first done.” She bit her lip, a sheepish expression overtaking her face. “Sorry, I don’t mean to be offensive.”

  “No offense taken.” He cocked his head, an idea taking shape. “What would you do to update the hotel? Hypothetically,” he added when he saw her concerned expression. The word had the magical effect of smoothing the worry lines from her face as she looked thoughtful, a new light coming into her eyes.

  “I’d give it a clean, updated feel—make everything more modern and streamlined. Yet, I’d keep the tones on the warm side to make it feel inviting.”

  As she talked a-mile-a-minute about the changes she’d make, her face was practically glowing. To never have done design before, she seemed to have a thorough knowledge of it. He loved watching her as she talked with her hands. She was animated, intelligent, enthralling. It was all he could do not to close the distance between them, gather her in his arms, and smother her with kisses. When she’d told him all, she offered a sheepish grin.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to get carried away.”

  “I loved hearing every word.”

  “Really?” She gave him a doubtful look.

  “Really.” He couldn’t help it. The temptation was too great. He reached for her hand, electricity jolting through him. He was relieved when she didn’t pull away. He closed his hand over hers, carefully like he was holding a piece of precious china. “How would you like to redecorate the hotel?”

  Eagerness flickered in her eyes. “Are you serious?”

  “Yeah. I can tell you know what you’re doing. The hotel needs an update. Even I, the guy who has zero design sense, can see that. You’d be perfect for the job.”

  Without warning, her eyes clouded. “I don’t think so,” she said glumly.

  He frowned. “Why not? You just said you want to be a designer. I’m giving you the opportunity of a lifetime.”

  Irritation flashed in her eyes. “That’s just it. You’re giving it to me.” She gave him an accusing look. “Why?”

  “What do you mean?” he blustered. Sheesh. Couldn’t he make one small gesture without her freaking out about it?

  She leaned forward, eyes narrowing with suspicion as she jabbed a finger into his chest. “You’ve only just met me. I’m a simple maid who, to your knowledge, doesn’t have an ounce of design training, and yet just like that, you’re willing to hand over a huge project to me. I want to know why.”

  The fire in her ignited something inside him as he caught hold of her wrist and pulled her closer. “Because I see something in you that speaks of greatness. Hearing you talk, I have no doubt that were you given this project, you’d do an outstanding job. Also, since we’re speaking plainly, I like you, a lot. You’ve hijacked my attention, making it hard to concentrate on anything else.”

  She sucked in a ragged breath.

  He reached and fingered a tendril of her hair that had escaped her ponytail holder. Then his hand moved to her cheek.

  “We shouldn’t,” she said softly, but she didn’t pull away. In her eyes, he saw the same longing he’d seen the day before. That same longing he felt.

  Anticipation raced through his veins as he leaned closer. His lips brushed hers in a small nip that was both teasing and tantalizing. He pulled back, searching her face as he promised himself that he’d only continue the kiss if she wanted him to. Her lips parted in acceptance as his mouth hungrily covered hers. She let out a tiny moan as he threaded his hands around her neck and up through her hair. As his lips explored hers, he did what he’d been wanting to do all day long. He removed the ponytail holder, sending her lustrous hair falling like water over her shoulders.

  The kiss sang through his veins as their lips moved in a perfect dance. It was a feeling of exhilaration, and yet it was timeless like the thing he’d been searching for his entire life was now before him. She slid her arms around his shoulders and pulled him closer as if she, too, couldn’t get enough. The essence of her wafted over him in sensuous tingles. He caught a whiff of her fruity shampoo, marveled at how delicate, yet strong she was as she responded eagerly to the demands of his lips.

  When the kiss was over, he rested his forehead against hers, cupping her cheeks with his hands. “Wow,” he uttered, “that was something.”

  She laughed softly. “Just as good as I’d always dreamed it would be.”

  He went stiff as he caught the meaning of her words. He pulled back, his brow furrowing. “You know me,” he said firmly, his eyes holding hers. “We’ve met before.” He thought he caught a blip of panic in her eyes, but it vanished so suddenly that he couldn’t be sure.

  A smooth smile stretched over her lips. “What I meant to say is that ever since our kiss yesterday, I’ve wanted to kiss you again.”

  For a second, he was puzzled, but the feeling was fast replaced with triumph. “Our kiss was pretty good yesterday, but this was even better just now.”

  “Yes, indeed,” she laughed.

  His eyes moved over her exquisite face. “I’m just glad the feeling’s mutual,” he uttered, his lips taking hers once more.

  A few minutes later, Sunny snuggled into the curve of his shoulder. He drew her closer as they turned their attention to the monotonous motion of the orange flames.

  “Tell me about you.”

  The words were spoken so softly that at first, Finley thought he might’ve imagined them.

  “There must’ve been someone else,” Sunny continued.

  “Yes,” he finally said. “There was.” He felt her tense in his arms. A part of him didn’t want to open up this conversation, but it was inevitable. She’d told him about her past. Now he needed to do the same.

  “What was her name?”

  “Emerson.” The word drifted up between them and got swept away like a distant memory by the evening air.

  “Did you love her?”

  “I thought so.” He reached for her hand and linked his fingers through hers.

  She shifted so she could see his face. “What do you mean?”

  He could sense that the next words he spoke would have a strong impact on their relationship moving forward. He wanted Sunny to know who he was, just as he wanted to know everything about her. Maybe it was crazy to feel so attached to a woman he’d only recently met, but there was no denying it was happening. It felt so right to be here with her and Ian. “Emerson and I were childhood friends. I fancied myself in love with her from the time we were teenagers.” He paused. “She always claimed that I wasn’t really in love with her, but caught up in the idea of being in love. Emerson assured me that when I truly fell in love that I’d
understand the difference.” He locked eyes with Sunny so she’d get the meaning of his words. He could tell that unnerved her. Time to back-peddle so he wouldn’t come on too strong and scare her away. He smiled to ease the tension as he shrugged. “I guess time will tell, huh?”

  Sunny grinned in relief. “Yeah.” She looked thoughtful. “What happened with Emerson?”

  “She fell in love with someone else.”

  Her face pulled down in sympathy. “Oh, I’m sorry.”

  “I’m not.”

  Sunny blinked, hope lighting her eyes. “Really?”

  “Really. In retrospect, she did me a huge favor—allowed me the opportunity to find my own life … my true love. I believe that my feelings for Emerson were preparing me for when I met the right one,” he finished quietly.

  Sunny cleared her throat, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “There’s a name for that.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, it’s called The Romeo Effect.”

  He laughed. “You mean the Romeo and Juliet Effect? When romantic feelings are intensified due to parental opposition to the relationship?”

  She looked impressed. “You know your literature.”

  “I’ve had a few classes on the subject.”

  She shook her head. “The Romeo Effect is something different. Remember how Romeo was first in love with Rosaline?”

  “Yes. If my memory serves me right, Romeo was in love with the idea of being in love.”

  “Yes, and his love for Rosaline prepared him for the real feelings he’d have for Juliette.”

  A sense of déjà vu wafted over Finley. Again, he got the strong feeling that he’d known Sunny before. A thought struck him. Maybe it was because he’d finally met the right girl. The Romeo Effect. It sounded vaguely familiar. Then it came to him like a streak of lightning amidst a dark sky. “Mr. Adair.” He felt a sense of satisfaction at having recalled the memory.

 

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