The Billionaire's Homecoming

by Christina Tetreault

  He grazed her lips with his and planted his hands on either side of her waist. He kept the kiss undemanding until he felt her relax beneath his palms. Leaning into him, Jen slipped her arms over his shoulders. Changing the angle of his head, he moved his mouth over hers, devouring its softness. Before he could do it, she urged his lips apart and dipped her tongue inside his mouth, sending a wave of lust and desire through his body.

  In his head, he ran through the best ways to get them both horizontal. The sudden bump to the head stopped him from executing any of them.

  “What the…?” He pulled away and found a football near his feet. Glancing up, he scanned the area as a teenage girl jogged toward them. They’d had the beach to themselves when he came outside. The teen headed their way said the situation had changed.

  “Sorry,” the girl said nervously when she reached them. “My stupid brother threw it over my head.” She pointed over her shoulder.

  Brett looked past the girl toward the house next door. Another teenager, perhaps two or three years older than the girl, stood on the beach with a smirk on his face. Three others remained on the deck. Accidents happened, but the teenager’s expression said this hadn’t been an accident. He’d aimed for Brett’s head.

  “Don’t worry about it.” Picking up the ball, he tossed it back to the girl. “Tell your brother to be more careful.”

  “I will,” she promised before jogging away.

  With others on the beach, any thoughts he had of taking things further went on hold. Later he’d probably be happy about that. The occasional one-night stand was fine, but he was ready for more in his life. Now that he was living in New England again, he intended to see if he could have it with Jen, because at some point in the past year, his feelings for her had changed from mere friendship to something else. Her response to his kiss suggested the same on her end.

  “Are you okay?” she asked.

  “Fine for the moment. But if you don’t get some sunscreen on my back soon, we’ll have a problem.” With a bunch of teenagers hanging around next door, they needed to keep their hands and lips to themselves as long as they were outside. Applying sunscreen to his body would give them an acceptable excuse to touch. He’d take what he could get for the immediate future.

  ***

  The guy could grill. No matter how many times she tried, she couldn’t cook anything on a grill. It always came out one of two ways: burned past recognition, or black on the outside but raw on the inside. Despite having a practically brand-new gas grill in her backyard, she hadn’t cooked on it once all summer. Instead, either Dad or her brother-in-law used it when they came over for a cookout. In return, she handled all the sides and desserts. She might not be able to grill, but she loved baking. And she was darn good at it, if she did say so herself.

  He’s an even better kisser. Jen watched him through the glass doors. She’d laughed when Kristen said Dan didn’t merely kiss her, but made love to her mouth. After this morning, she knew what her sister meant. She’d felt Brett’s kiss everywhere. If not for the teens on the beach with them, she would’ve tried for another. Unfortunately, the teens who had interrupted them hours ago had remained on the beach until after Brett finished grilling their steaks. And while the group was gone now, it was anyone’s guess when they or any other residents might return to enjoy the beach.

  The glass door slid open, and Brett stepped out on the deck. Before he started cooking, he’d thrown on a T-shirt, much to her disapproval. Unfortunately, he still wore it now.

  “Sorry about that.” He dropped into the padded deck chair next to her.

  She’d had time to enjoy a gorgeous view and the sunshine. She had nothing to complain about. “Don’t worry about it. Is everything okay?”

  “Yeah, it was Carl.”

  She knew all his relatives’ names, or at least she thought she did. Carl didn’t sound familiar. “Carl? Another cousin?”

  Brett reached across the space separating them and tucked the loose strand of hair dancing against her cheek behind her ear. “No. I thought I told you. I hired Carl Filmore to run my campaign. He called to let me know we have about half the signatures necessary to get me on the ballot for the upcoming primary.”

  She didn’t know the exact number of signatures required. Considering they were talking about the United States Senate and not a state-level position, she guessed it was a lot. “Already?”

  “Name recognition has its perks. Having an uncle who is also a popular president in the White House helps too.”

  It was the first time he’d made any comment about how influential and well known his family was. “When we started exchanging letters, I assumed it was a coincidence your name was Brett Sherbrooke.”

  “Really?” He sounded surprised by her admission.

  She shrugged. “It’s not uncommon for people to share a name with someone famous. I had a classmate at Northeastern named Anderson Brady, and he was definitely not the actor.” She had been mildly disappointed when she finally met the man and learned he wasn’t the actor but rather a middle-aged man from Cambridge, Massachusetts.

  “Yeah, but your brother knew who I was. Keith never said anything?”

  “Nope. At least not to Kristen or me. I didn’t figure it out until you mentioned your cousin Trent’s wedding. I could accept you shared a name with someone in the Sherbrooke family. But having a cousin named Trent was too much of a coincidence.”

  Brett frowned. Somehow even frowning he looked handsome. “Most people figure it out a lot sooner. It’s the one thing I’m not looking forward to now that I’m not on active duty.”

  She’d spotted enough pictures of his cousins on various websites and magazine covers to know how much the media loved his family. People invading your privacy had to be annoying.

  “Well, if you need a good bodyguard, I’m available,” she said, hoping to change his frown back into a smile. “My hand-to-hand combat skills are not quite as good as my forensic accounting skills, but I can hold my own in a fight. Dad and Keith made sure I could take care of myself.”

  Her statement did the trick, and his frown vanished. “Having you around twenty-four seven is a tempting offer. But I’d rather have your attention on me, not on whatever media vulture might be lurking around.” He leaned across the space between them, his intent obvious.

  When his lips touched hers, a shock wave went through her body. Closing her eyes, she lost herself in the kiss and the heat building up inside her. Who he was didn’t matter, only the fact she was here with him, and he seemed as interested in her as she was in him did. Parting her lips, she ran her tongue along his bottom lip, a silent message to open. He didn’t hesitate, and she immediately took control of their kiss. At least until Brett moved and his lips seared a path down her neck to her bare shoulder.

  She sensed his hand going for the tie behind her neck. While her body said “go for it,” her mind screamed “put on the brakes.” Reaching up, she covered his hand with hers. Whether he’d intended to stop or not before she touched his hand, he placed a final kiss on her shoulder before touching his forehead to hers.

  “It kills me to say this,” she said, a little out of breath. “Maybe we should go someplace public for a little while.” A place with a lot of people would keep her from tugging him to the nearest bed and having her way with the man.

  Brett pulled back and kissed her forehead. “I could go for some ice cream.”

  ***

  Located on Wellington Avenue, Pirate’s Cove was a popular destination for both tourists and locals. When he’d come as a kid, it had comprised of only the large eighteenth-century stone building before them and a small mini golf course. The complex in front of them now was something else entirely. While the stone building with the flashing neon Open sign remained, the tiny mini golf course was long gone. Now to the left of the building sat an enormous eighteen-hole mini golf course complete with a windmill and waterfall. From where they stood, he saw at least six batting cages behind the building,
and off to the far right was a go-cart track.

  “This place has changed,” Brett said. “I used to come here all the time, and it looked nothing like this.” He reached the door handle before Jen and pulled it open for her.

  “Did you spend a lot of time down here when you were younger?”

  They stepped inside and the smell of fresh-made waffle cones and hot fudge wafted around him. The scent conjured up long forgotten memories of walking over with his brother and cousins. “At least two weeks every summer, but usually more. We’d stay at Cliff House. At least all the kids would. The adults took turns supervising us. Aunt Elizabeth was always the strictest of the bunch. I love her, but we always had more fun when she wasn’t around. We never got away with anything when she was there. Aunt Marilyn, on the other hand, was a pushover.”

  A memory he hadn’t thought of in a long time involving his Aunt Elizabeth popped up, and he laughed. It wasn’t the first time this week a long-forgotten memory involving his family surfaced. Each time one did, he realized how much he’d missed them the past few years. Sure he’d seen them from time to time, but he hadn’t been a real part of their lives. Instead he’d been like the distant relative who visited for family reunions and weddings.

  “What’s so funny?” Jen asked.

  “Thinking about one of the nights my brother refused to eat dinner. Aunt Elizabeth wouldn’t let him leave the table until he tried everything on his plate. Curt fell asleep sitting there and landed face-first in his food. I don’t think Curt ever refused again after that.”

  “My mom had a similar rule. Thankfully, I usually liked what she cooked. My sister was always the picky one. My brother would eat anything not moving.” Jen joined the line at the counter. “So, what flavor are you going to order? Last time I came here, I had the banana bread. It was out of this world. My niece had the cherry explosion. She insisted I try some. I don’t usually love cherries, but it was good too.”

  The board on the wall listed easily fifty different ice-cream flavors in addition to the ones Jen mentioned and several types of frozen yogurt. He didn’t need to read any of them. “Vanilla in a waffle cone.” When he got ice cream, he always ordered vanilla.

  “Vanilla? Are you serious? That’s like the most boring flavor in the world,” Jen said.

  “Boring is my cousin’s middle name,” a familiar voice said from behind them.

  They both turned and faced the newest additions to the line, his cousin Derek and his wife, Brooklyn.

  “It’s better than your middle name.” He ignored Derek for the moment and hugged Brooklyn instead. When he finished he said, “Jen, this is Brooklyn, my cousin’s wife.” It felt natural to put his arm around Jen as the two women exchanged greetings.

  “If vanilla is so boring, what are you getting?” Brett asked without another glance in his cousin’s direction.

  Derek responded more or less the way he expected. “I stand corrected. His middle names are boring and rude.” His cousin extended his hand toward Jen. “Derek, Brett’s polite and much more charming cousin.”

  Jen’s mouth twisted as if she was trying not to either laugh or perhaps smile. “I don’t know, he’s pretty polite and charming when we’re together.”

  Brooklyn nodded. “He’s always polite to me too. Derek, the problem must be you.”

  The friendly banter continued as they waited to order and even after they found a covered picnic table outside to share. Growing up, he’d always given his cousins and siblings a hard time. And they’d always reciprocated. Until this afternoon, he hadn’t realized how much he’d missed it.

  “I heard an ugly rumor. Something about you running for Senator Neil Brown’s seat in the upcoming special election,” Derek said, touching on a serious topic.

  Great. Another person who found it hard to believe he might want to serve his country in a different way. He’d gotten a similar statement from his sister when he called her earlier in the week too. “If all goes as planned, I’ll be on the ballot. I hired Carl Filmore to run things for me. So far, so good.”

  “You in DC?” Derek dropped his spoon in the ice-cream bowl. “I can’t see it. My brother, yeah, or even Sara. But not you.”

  “Don’t listen to him.” Brooklyn glared at his cousin as she spoke. “I think you’d make a great senator. We need new faces and ideas on the Hill. If I can help, call me.”

  “Filmore, huh? He knows what he’s doing. He worked on Beck’s campaign last year, and he helped with Uncle Warren’s first presidential campaign. Dad speculated he’d work on the upcoming one too.”

  Brett hadn’t known either of those details. However, the information reinforced he’d made a good choice. Next to him, Jen shifted nervously. She hadn’t said much since they sat down. He’d thought it was because she was eating her ice cream, something called cookie crunch. He wasn’t sure what was in it, but it didn’t appear to be a flavor he’d enjoy. Glancing at her bowl now, he saw she hadn’t touched much of it. Evidently food had nothing to do with her silence. Perhaps a change in conversation was needed.

  “Derek and Brooklyn work in Providence too,” he said. He looked at his cousin. “Jen works at Pattersen Financial.”

  Derek took the cue to change subjects. “You’re just a few buildings down from us. We’re both at Hale and Associates.”

  Chapter Four

  Jen accepted the wine Brooklyn handed her. After finishing their ice cream, they’d played a round of mini golf together. Although a friendly game, Brett and Derek had become ridiculously competitive to the point Brooklyn threatened to leave if they didn’t chill out. Jen hadn’t minded though. She much preferred the friendly insults they tossed at each other to the political talk they’d exchanged while seated. Hearing them discuss President Sherbrooke and Senator Beck’s names the way they had reminded her too well who sat next to her. Thankfully, the conversation had been fairly short-lived. The subject of politics hadn’t come up again.

  After the game, Derek and his wife invited them back to their house. Now they were all outside enjoying the deck and empty beach. According to Brooklyn, their neighbors hadn’t been down all summer. Why someone would purchase a home in such a beautiful location and not use it escaped her. If she had a beach house, she’d be there every chance she got.

  Taking a sip of her drink, she listened to the waves crashing on the shore. She wasn’t a wine expert, but the wine in her glass was delicious. Across the table, Brooklyn glanced at her again. She’d done it several times during their time together. This time she snapped her fingers and leaned forward in her chair.

  “I knew I’d seen you before,” she said. “You do the lead vocals for Black Velvet.” Brooklyn didn’t wait for Jen to confirm or deny the statement. Instead she touched her husband’s arm and continued. “Derek, we’ve seen her perform at the Red Parrot.”

  She’d been performing with the local band for over three years and rarely did anyone recognize her. Jen was surprised Brooklyn did tonight.

  “I thought you looked familiar,” Derek said. “When and where is the band’s next performance?”

  “You perform?” Brett asked, looking at her.

  She took another sip of her wine. She’d love to get this kind for her house, assuming the price tag wasn’t ridiculous. “I told you I did.” It wasn’t a secret she tried to hide from people. Even her niece knew she performed with a band. In fact, Bella kept asking when she’d be old enough to come and watch a show.

  “You mentioned you sang. But never said anything about performing with a band. I would’ve remembered.”

  Brett seemed to remember everything else she’d told him. If this news was a surprise to him, then she must’ve never mentioned it. “It’s not a big deal. We used to perform about twice a month or so. Things have been off since the spring. Jim, our drummer, and his wife had a baby in March. And about two weeks later, I got my promotion.” She thought back over the past few months. “Last time we performed was in May. We were at a club in Warwick.”

>   “Next time you have a performance, let us know. We’d love to come and see you. You’ve got an incredible voice,” Brooklyn said.

  She’d never been comfortable accepting compliments. Tonight was no different and heat filled her face. She didn’t need a mirror to know she’d turned a nice shade of her least favorite color, pink. “Thanks. Singing is something I’ve done forever.” Even in high school she’d sung in the chorus.

  Jen took the final sip of wine, and before she could stop herself, she yawned. She had no idea of the time. She’d left her watch at home and hadn’t taken her cell phone from her bag all day. Stars and an almost full moon filled the sky though, so it had to be on the later side.

  Across the table, Brooklyn yawned too. “Sorry. I’m exhausted all of a sudden,” she said.

  “Honestly, I’m starting to fade too,” Derek said. “You’re welcome to spend the night. We’ve got the room. And tomorrow Brooklyn and I plan to take the Affinity over to Martha’s Vineyard. Join us. It’ll give me a chance to fill Jen in on all your embarrassing childhood moments.”

  “Thanks, but I’ve got a meeting with Filmore tomorrow.” Brett pushed his chair away from the table. “Maybe another weekend, assuming Jen can handle being in your company again.” He extended his hand toward her. “What do you think? Could you stomach my cousin’s company for another several hours?”

  Thanks to the lights on the deck, she spotted the humor in his eyes. She’d thought her brother Keith enjoyed giving family members a hard time, but Brett enjoyed it even more.

  She took her time before answering, as if she really needed to consider the question. In reality though, there was no need. She’d had a delightful time with Derek and Brooklyn and would happily do it again. “Yes, I think I could tolerate it. But not too often.”

  Brett laughed and kissed her cheek. “I knew we got along well for a reason.”

  After a quick stop at his brother’s house to pick up their things and one at a downtown coffee shop, they got on the highway. She didn’t know about him, but she needed the caffeine pick-me-up. Without it she might fall asleep on the ride home. She’d rather not snore during their first formal date.