Melody Anne's Billionaire Universe_Claimed by Her Billionaire

by Kate Richards

  “Dad, Mom is making spaghetti tonight, so I told her I’d stay over there.”

  “My son can be bought with food.” His father slung an arm around his neck and gave a squeeze before releasing him. “Ever think of asking anyone else if they wanted a sandwich?”

  He held up the peanut butter on wheat currently crumpled in his hand. “Bite, Dad?”

  Ryan grimaced and released him. “Uh, no. But speaking of food, since I don’t have any reason to have a kid-friendly dinner tonight, would you like to grab a bite, Serenity?”

  If he and the boy’s mother were a couple, he’d be going for spaghetti, too, wouldn’t he? “All right. You sure it’s okay?”

  He frowned and lifted another load from the truck. “Why wouldn’t it be okay?”

  “You don’t need to go over to umm…Harley’s mom’s place?”

  “No. Not tonight. Tonight, I would rather take you for a seafood dinner at a place owned by a friend of mine, then maybe we can check out your new business?”

  The sense of relief that suffused her at not going to the coffeehouse alone was ridiculous. But real. As were the fizzing bubbles in her bloodstream at the thought of spending an evening with Ryan Griffin. If it turned out he was still in a relationship with Harley’s mom and only asking her to be nice her first night in town, she’d find out before the evening was over. After all, how bad could it be to be friends with him?

  It would suck. She had not been so attracted to a man, ever.

  What would Aunt Serenity do?

  She’d probably ask him if he’s available…but why did her heart tell her she had a ghostly matchmaker on the other side?

  After they dropped the last load of her things in the houseboat, she finally stepped aboard herself and had her first look at what her aunt had called home.

  Shabby chic meets hippie chic. Andy Warhol would have been right at home.

  Chapter Three

  Ryan leaned on the railing of the Queen of Hearts, his home for the past nine years. Since a stock he’d bought on a lark, using the modest inheritance from his father, had split, split, and split again, leaving him a billionaire.

  His brother as well. They’d always thrown their lots in together, and buying the tech stock had been chancy, but Glenn had a feeling…and this time it had made them wealthy beyond their wildest dreams.

  They were still attorneys, shifting from being partners in a big city firm to their own more modest place closer to home, their dad’s old office, taking only the cases they chose, and in Ryan’s case, buying the boat of his dreams and using all that spare time to restore her to her prior glory. The deck behind him gleamed in the late afternoon sun, all white paint and acres of polished teakwood. Inside, each room was testament to his craftsmanship, but few people knew any of his secrets. He preferred not to brag about his wealth, beyond what his living space announced just by being there. But everyone knew he’d done all the rehab himself, so they probably thought he’d gotten a better deal than he had.

  Being suddenly super wealthy was heady stuff, hard enough to remain grounded without flashing it around town. But some friends of his late parents had been great mentors for both him and Glenn.

  Joseph Anderson stepped in and offered advice and support. Their families had spent some vacations together on the East Coast, and after his dad passed away both Mr. Anderson and his wife, Katherine, had been great friends and allies. They let him know they were there if he needed advice and, boy, did he. Neither he nor Glenn knew what to do after that stock exploded and they suddenly found themselves at something approaching the Anderson’s wealth.

  He had to give his ex credit. They had split up a year before the stock purchase, but she never tried to get him back because he was suddenly super rich. She cared only for their son’s welfare, and in that they were in total agreement. He’d signed the boat over to her when he bought the new one, and put some money in an account in her name in case she ever had unexpected expenses. But she’d never asked for a thing.

  All along the dock, various residents were coming home from work, bringing bags of groceries or restaurant bags. Things were pretty quiet here during the day, with even those who worked from home indoors painting, writing, telecommuting.

  But on a beautiful night like tonight, there would be lots of visiting from boat to boat, friends sharing a drink or maybe a joint now that such things were legal. Barbecues fired up, and pizzas delivered where they sat on their decks and enjoyed the main reason they lived there. The proximity to the mighty ocean.

  A seagull flew overhead, circling down to some bit of precious flotsam. Sea lions barked from where they lay piled on rocks above the water’s surface. And, in an hour, he had a date with Serenity. Dinner and a visit to the coffeehouse. Although it had been closed since her aunt’s death, he’d kept an eye on it for her.

  With a sigh, he left the rail and headed for the shower. The cancellation of the afternoon court session by the judge at the last minute had allowed him to help Serenity move in, a pot of spaghetti had sent Harley running to his mom’s. The universe was lining up events for a heck of an evening. If the fog didn’t roll in, they could stargaze after dinner. If it did come rolling over the hills, they could go inside, sip some port he’d picked up at a wine country tasting recently, or maybe coffee, and get to know one another better. Either way, he was as excited as he’d ever been before a date. Maybe even more.

  Walking through each room, he considered how she might see it. Maybe he went a little heavy with the gilt in the main salon? The marble in the dining room? Surely she’d love the carpets, every one an antique with vivid, beautiful colors he never tired of looking at? He didn’t know this woman at all, so why was he picturing her clothes in his closet instead of her own?

  Stripping, he turned in front of the mirror, aware of the difference in their ages. She was in her early twenties. He in his mid-thirties. With a son only a decade younger than her. Maybe he was crazy even considering their evening a date. She likely thought he was just being nice, maybe welcoming her to town. They weren’t at the same place in life.

  The mirror showed a man in decent shape. He ran most days, bicycled the hills, did some weights in the room he’d refitted for the purpose…but he was still in his thirties, and she might well prefer someone her own age.

  Stepping into the multi-headed shower spray, he tried to keep things in perspective, not to put too much into their evening. A young woman on her own for the first time deserved the time to “spread her wings” as she herself said. The fact he wanted to bring her home with him and make love to her all night was his problem, not hers.

  He patted himself dry and dressed in low, polished boots, jeans, and a sweater, combed his hair and short beard. Nothing more he could do. She’d like him, or she wouldn’t. At the last moment he patted on some cologne with a subtle scent of sandalwood. Gilding the lily.

  It felt so high school crush to be hoping she would be interested in more than friendship.

  Serenity spent the late afternoon hours going over every inch of the houseboat she’d inherited. Not only because it was her new home, but also because she was searching for clues about the aunt she’d never met. The father lost to her in her infancy. Everything from the coffee cups to the tiny sea shell guest soaps. And the clothes. “You were quite the hippie, Auntie,” she murmured, finding tie-dye shirts and a fringed jacket that had to date back to the 1960s. Handmade candles. A beaded curtain separating the galley from the smallish living/dining space. The bedroom was a loft, only a few feet from the ceiling so she had to crawl onto the mattress which lay on the floor but when she did, when she lay on her back, a round, porthole-like skylight lay directly above her face. Wow. Just wow.

  The blankets and pillows had an exotic scent, maybe from incense or maybe something else burning in the place. Something only recently legal for recreational use in California. But it made her feel good, feel as if the first Serenity was still here in some way, as if she could know her. Tugging a comfo
rter from the foot of the bed over her, she curled into a warm, comfortable ball and closed her eyes, just for a moment.

  When she opened them, she looked up at a dark sky filled with pinpoints of light. How beautiful. Like diamonds scattered on black velvet. Stretching, Serenity was overwhelmed with peace, and comfort. Then she looked again and sat straight up, bonking her head. What time was it? Rubbing her head, she crept to the ladder and scrambled down to the main floor of the boat. To her relief, the clock over the stove showed she still had time, not much but some, before her date arrived. If not for the fact she’d already agreed to go and that she did sort of have the hots for the Viking attorney—okay Griffin probably wasn’t a Viking name but he had the look— she’d be just as happy to spend her first evening at home alone.

  But those facts did exist so she changed into a pair of jeans and a pretty white lace top, black boots with silver toes, brushed her hair out and plaited just a tiny braid in the front to keep the sea breeze from blowing her hair into her eyes, and hoped she’d guessed the level of formality for the evening correctly.

  Serenity watched out the window for Ryan to descend the gangplank from his yacht/houseboat. If he was in another one of those amazing suits she would change at least to a skirt, but as the time drew near, she was pleased to see she’d guessed correctly. Her date wore jeans as well.

  He knocked on the door, and she waited a beat before grabbing her jacket and purse and opening it. “Good evening, neighbor,” she chirped, feeling silly as she said it, but his smile was broad and friendly.

  “Lovely night, isn’t it?” He took her jacket from her and held it up. “But getting cool. You’d better put this on.”

  She slipped her arms into the sleeves and allowed him to tug the zipper halfway up before protesting. “I think I’ll be fine like this. But thank you.” As they strolled down the dock toward town, she was glad not to have the cool breeze on her bare arms. “So, what’s on the schedule for tonight?”

  “I thought I’d take you to a restaurant owned by a friend of mine. He makes the best cioppino in town, does a terrific crab Louis, all the San Francisco dishes you’d expect and a few originals. All freshly prepared and very good.”

  Her mouth watered, reminding her she hadn’t bothered to eat lunch. In fact, she needed to find out where the grocery store was if she wanted to eat anything besides the rice, beans and other non-perishables in the tiny pantry. “Sounds great. Then we’ll go to the coffeehouse?”

  “Unless you want to go now? Stan’s place isn’t very formal, so we don’t have a reservation or anything.”

  Her tummy rumbled in protest at putting off their meal, and she clapped a hand over it. “Excuse me.”

  “It’s okay. I blame my son for not bringing us peanut butter sandwiches this afternoon. Stan’s is right down the street, anyway. See the sign?”

  She followed his pointing finger and spotted the neon sign, flashing away. “It really is called Stan’s Place,” she marveled. “I thought you were just using local shorthand or something.”

  “Nope, not at all.”

  They stepped off the dock and he took her hand, folding it into his much larger one. And warmer. His hand was so warm. “How long have you lived here?” she asked.

  “Aboard the Queen, less than ten years but about fifteen total. And I grew up in the hills above.” He made a right turn and led her toward the restaurant. “I bought the first boat as I finished law school, I moved to Sausalito.” He shrugged. “I never wanted to live anywhere but here.”

  She eyed him. “How old are you, anyway? If you graduated from law school that long ago, you must be much older than you look.”

  His grin crinkled the skin by his eyes, adding a little age but even more charm. “I’m thirty-five, but I finished college early, and law school.”

  “A prodigy.”

  “I think I’m just good at school.” He held the door of the restaurant for her to enter, but did not release her hand. Which worked well because she didn’t want him to. “Doesn’t mean much.”

  A short, rotund man with gray hair and a black apron bustled over to them. “Lawyer Griffin! And you have a lovely lady with you tonight.”

  “Can the formal crap, Stan. The lady knows you’re a friend of mine.”

  She giggled. An odd sound coming from her, but for some reason she felt so light-hearted tonight. “Nice to meet you, Stan.” She held out her free hand, and he took it and shook it. “I’m Serenity.”

  “Serenity?” he inquired. “That’s the same name our old friend…”

  “That’s right. My aunt,” she offered. “Did you know her well?”

  His expression held such sadness, she regretted asking.

  “Not as well as I wanted to. But we were good friends.” He grabbed a couple of menus. “Come back this way. I have a table by the window for you, where you can see the water. You gonna reopen the coffeehouse?”

  “Yes, as soon as I can. Maybe you’ll be my customer, too. If your food is half as good as it smells, I plan to be back often.”

  “You don’t have to butter up Stan,” Ryan said, holding her chair for her. “He knows how good his cooking is.”

  Stan chatted a bit longer, took their drink orders, and left them alone to decide what they wanted to eat. Soon they were dining on broiled shrimp and crusty bread with a bowl of salad between them. She’d be back often for sure.

  Chapter Four

  Serenity and Ryan sat by the window and ate, watching the fog roll in. And watching each other. The dim lighting of the restaurant enhanced his good looks, and every woman who came into the restaurant, while pretending not to stare, couldn’t look away from Ryan. Before long, Stan was placing a bowl of spumoni in front of each of them. They dipped into the cool, smooth ice cream and talked like they’d known each other forever, the proprietor joining them periodically to share stories of her aunt. When they’d finished, they strolled out onto the street.

  “Which way to my business?” She peered up and down the block. “It looks like most of the places are closed now. How late is it, anyway?”

  He glanced at the gold watch on his wrist. “About midnight, but things are quieter during the week, and it’s a little early in the season for a lot of the tourists.”

  “Do you have court again in the morning?”

  “I do.” He took her arm and guided her around a bump in the sidewalk. “Why?”

  “Well, it’s late. If you need to get home and rest, I understand. I can go myself to see what I need to do with the coffeehouse in the morning.” She peeked at him in her peripheral vision, hating the thought of cutting their evening short but unwilling to be more of a burden than she already was.

  “Tired of me already?” He stopped in front of a dark building. “You don’t want to take a peek”

  “Is this it?” she breathed, suddenly unwilling to move on past. “I’m not at all tired of your company, but I don’t want to be responsible for your being too tired in court in the morning.”

  “Afraid I’m an old guy who needs lots of sleep?”

  “Of course not!” she protested, fishing in her bag for the ring of keys. “We can just step in for a minute so I can see the place then we can head for home. Okay?”

  “Lead on.”

  Serenity twisted the key in the lock and turned the handle. “I am a little scared.”

  “Of what?”

  “Failure, making the wrong choices, messing up something it took my aunt a lifetime to build.” She turned to face him. “What if I ruin it all?”

  Ryan reached past her and pushed the door open. “You’re not going to mess it up. You librarians have the most ordered minds to start with, and I think your aunt was a little psychic. She knew you could handle it.”

  “I wish she’d contacted me, you know? Despite what my mother told her. She should have done it anyway.”

  “I told her the same thing, but she had her own reasons for what she did. I think that’s why she and Stan never made it perm
anent. She loved her freedom.”

  “I wondered what he meant by not knowing her as well as he’d like. He seemed so sad.”

  “Yes, they were an item for many years, but she had her place, he had his.” He nudged her inside. “Flip on the lights, and see what you think.”

  Serenity’s hand trembled, but she hit the switch and the little storefront was bathed in light. It looked exactly like the online images, except the pastry case was empty and so were the stools. Even after being closed for a month, it smelled deliciously of coffee, and she fell instantly in love. Unfortunately, that feeling spilled over to include the man who stood at her side. She lifted her face to him, resting her palm on his golden beard, and his lips descended onto hers in a firm, warm kiss. He backed her up against the wall and continued kissing her as her arms looped around his neck. It felt like a dream. Just this morning, she’d been at home in Cedar Valley, still listening to her mother try to talk her out of leaving and now…

  Now, she’d moved on. New home, new business and new, what? Lover? Boyfriend? Friend with benefits? Quit analyzing everything and live!

  Whether her own thoughts or the spirit of her late aunt, the advice was excellent and she parted her lips, welcoming him to explore, to stroke her tongue with his, while his hands rose to cup the sides of her breasts, and her body came alive under his touch.

  “Do you like it,” he asked when they paused to breathe.

  “Oh yes,” she sighed.

  He held her away from him and pressed his lips to her forehead. “I meant the shop, but I agree with you on the kissing.”

  Her cheeks flamed. “I didn’t. I mean I…”

  Don’t apologize for a compliment like that, Serenity. I could stand here and kiss you all night, but I think our legs would give out.” He pulled her close and kissed her again, turning her knees to water.

  Then he straightened, breaking contact, and took the keys from her. “Seen enough for tonight?”