The Billionaire's Homecoming

by Christina Tetreault

  Brett watched the man walk away and rejoin a woman seated across the dining room. “I apologize for that too,” he said. “Tonight isn’t starting off well.”

  Jen reached for his hand. “You had about as much control over his visit as you did the traffic tonight. No need to apologize.” She tilted her head in the councilman’s general direction. “Before our unexpected visitor showed up, I was going to ask how the campaign is going.”

  They’d discussed the campaign a bit during their phone calls this week, but he’d made a conscious effort not to bore her with all the details. “Going as planned so far. I’ve got two town hall forums this week. One is Tuesday out in Amherst and the other is Wednesday in Boston. Thursday I have a meet and greet down in Westport.” Brett proceeded to fill her in on the rest of his upcoming week.

  Just hearing him list all the meetings and interviews filling his calendar made her tired. “So basically you have something scheduled for every day next week,” she said after the waitress set down their main dishes. “How are you going to manage all that and work?”

  “Creative scheduling as well as a lot of late nights and early mornings.” He placed his napkin on his lap and picked up his fork. “This looks amazing. If it tastes as good as it looks, I’ll have to thank Sean for telling me about this restaurant.”

  Jen followed his lead and picked up her fork as well. She agreed, the osso buco she’d ordered looked and smelled divine. “And when do you plan on sleeping?”

  “After I win the election.” He sounded a little too serious for her peace of mind.

  “I’m not joking.” She sliced a corner off her braised veal shank and waited for his reply.

  Brett’s hand paused with his fork almost to his mouth. “I wasn’t either. You’d be surprised how little sleep a body can get by on.”

  Jen understood and respected his ambition, but no one could keep up the pace he was facing and stay healthy. “Brett, everyone needs some downtime. And I don’t mean just sleep. Some time to relax and unwind is important too.” She put her fork down because dinner could wait. This was a serious discussion. “You’re no different. I think you need to take a step back for a minute. Perhaps consider taking a leave of absence from Homeland. I think they’d understand considering the circumstances.”

  His expression became grim, and he stopped eating. “Carl made a similar suggestion over lunch yesterday. I’ll keep it in mind.”

  He sounded sincere, but for some reason she got the impression he was simply telling her what she wanted to hear. “Promise?”

  Brett nodded, but she wasn’t quite ready to let him off the hook. In many ways, Brett was like her dad and brother. They were all stubborn men who did things their way no matter anyone’s opinion.

  “Do you pinkie promise?”

  Bella had asked her the same thing Sunday. Before Jen left with Bo, Bella had made her pinkie promise to let the dog stay with her again soon.

  “A pinkie promise sounds serious.” His hand slipped over hers. “And not something I’d enter into with just anyone.” A grin broke free and overtook his features. “But I’ll do it for you.”

  Jen raised the pinkie finger on her free hand and held it toward him. When he merely reached for his fork again, she said, “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  She wiggled her finger in the air, assuming he’d catch on.

  “Something wrong with your finger?” he asked instead.

  She thought she caught a twinkle of laughter in his eyes, but at the same time it might only be the candle flame playing tricks on her. “A proper pinkie promise entails joining our fingers. Now let’s see your finger, unless you didn’t mean what you said.”

  Brett met her demand and linked his finger with hers. “In case you hadn’t already figured this out, I always mean what I say.”

  His words sent a shiver of excitement down her spine. His voice told her he wasn’t referring to just his promise to consider taking a leave from his job until after the election.

  ***

  Jen took a third bite of her dessert and pushed the plate away. “This is amazing, but I can’t eat another bite.” She shouldn’t have ordered dessert in the first place. Her dinner had more than filled her up. When the waitress brought the tray over, her sweet tooth had taken over and prompted her to order the limoncello panna cotta with wild blueberry glaze despite her better judgment.

  Across the table, Brett’s dessert was already more than half gone. Exactly where he managed to put all the food was a mystery. Unlike her, he’d finished his main meal before indulging in the large chocolate torte he ordered.

  “Any ideas of how you’d like to spend the rest of the night?” Brett asked, his fork already heading for his plate and the last piece of his dessert.

  “If it was a little earlier and I had on more comfortable shoes, I’d say walk around the city. This is my first time to Salem.” She’d come straight from work. Although she wasn’t wearing heels—she rarely did—the sling-back flats she had one were not designed for long, leisurely strolls.

  “First? You’ve never come up at Halloween time?”

  “Nope. Until I moved to Rhode Island ten years ago, I didn’t spend much time in New England. When I did come, it was usually at Christmas to see my grandparents.”

  Brett signed the bill their waitress handed him. “This October we’ll have to rectify that. Salem embraces Halloween like no other place I know. All set?”

  Come October he’d be neck-deep in his campaign. Finding time for them to meet and visit the city might be out of the question. While she recognized this, she kept it to herself. “Similar to the way New Orleans celebrates Mardi Gras?” she asked, pushing her chair back.

  “I don’t think any city or town in the country embraces a holiday the way New Orleans does when it comes to Mardi Gras.” He put his arm around her waist and started toward the exit. “Experienced it once, and that was enough for me. Halloween in Salem, though, I could do again.”

  He filled her in on the events he’d seen on his one visit to Salem during October. From the sound of it, the city used the infamous witch trials held centuries ago and the hauntings associated with them to its advantage. Even if they didn’t make it back in October together, perhaps she’d recruit Kristen and spend a day up here. Her sister was always up for a little exploring, and they hadn’t had a girls’ day out together in months.

  “Walking is out for the night. Anything else you want to do?” Brett stopped next to her car.

  Nothing came to mind, especially not still wearing the wraparound rayon dress she’d worn to work. She hated to see the evening end though. Brett had a ridiculously busy week ahead of him, so who knew when he might have time to see her again.

  “Sorry, no, not dressed like this.” She gestured toward her outfit. “You?”

  The lights in the parking lot made it impossible to miss the way Brett’s gaze left her face and roamed over her figure. He took a step closer, and the air between them danced with excitement. “I don’t live far from here. Come to my house. We can watch a movie, talk, whatever.” Brett ran a finger down her jaw and across her bottom lip, and her heart jerked against her rib cage.

  She had a good idea of what the “whatever” might encompass. If it were any other man standing there and asking her back to his place after only technically two dates, she’d be jumping in her car and leaving him in the dust. Brett she knew perhaps better than any other man she’d ever dated. “I’ll follow you.”

  Brett’s car turned onto a street named Fender Drive. Although several businesses lined the street, including a grocery store and an automotive garage, the area radiated a small town vibe. As they passed through an intersection, the streetlights provided enough illumination for her to see the large town common. The streetlights ended though when Brett turned left. Now the only light came from the homes lining the street and her car’s headlights.

  In front of her, Brett stopped and turned. J
en waited until Brett pulled into his garage before turning into the driveway. The colonial-style home resembled many of the homes in her neighborhood, only this one looked to be much older. Actually, all the homes they’d passed on the street looked on the older side, and she wouldn’t be surprised to find some had historical markers on the front.

  Jen pushed open the car door as Brett approached. The sensor light attached to the garage made it possible to see the frown he wore. “What’s wrong?” Had he noticed a problem with the house? Even small towns experienced break-ins and vandalism.

  He tilted his head in the direction of the car door. “I was going to get it for you.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I wanted to.”

  She closed the door and added her keys to her purse. “Next time.” She looked around the front yard, her gaze stopping on the large front porch. “I love porches like that,” she said. “One of the houses I lived in growing up had one. I used to sit outside and read out there even when it rained. Sometimes in the summer we’d eat breakfast out there on the weekends.”

  Brett’s arm wrapped around her waist. Together they walked up the driveway and into the two-car garage. “We’ll have to do that sometime.” He pressed the control panel on the wall to close the garage door and unlocked the interior door.

  Jen expected to walk into a kitchen. Most homes, hers included, seemed to have a door in the kitchen that led directly into the garage. However, she hadn’t expected to walk into an empty kitchen. The only evidence someone lived there was the overly complicated looking coffee maker on the counter. There was no kitchen table or chairs. The counters gleamed as if recently washed. There wasn’t a single item in the sink, not even a dirty spoon. No matter how hard she tried, she always seemed to find a stray utensil or empty glass in her kitchen sink. The glass doors on the cabinets above the counter revealed that most were empty. Only the one closest to the stove contained any dishes. The cabinet doors below the counter weren’t glass, so she didn’t know what was behind those, but if she opened them she didn’t think she’d find anything.

  “I thought your things arrived?” she asked.

  “They did, and I finished unpacking.” He led her through the spotless kitchen and into another room. “Make yourself at home.” He left her side long enough to turn on more lights.

  Although not as empty as the kitchen, this room didn’t contain much furniture either. “Did they leave some of it in Virginia?”

  The leather sofa looked comfortable and high-end. Definitely not something he’d picked up at a discount furniture store. However, it and the large square coffee table were the only things in the room, unless you counted the huge flat-screen television mounted over the fireplace. The room could easily accommodate a few armchairs and an end table or two.

  “Nope. I didn’t have a lot, just the essentials.”

  “You consider a sixty-five-inch television more essential than a kitchen table?” she asked, guessing at the size of the television. At home she had a forty-inch mounted on the wall, and Brett’s was much larger than it.

  He took the remote from the coffee table and switched on the obnoxiously large device mounted on the wall. “Affirmative. A movie or football game on anything smaller is a waste of time.”

  Only a man would consider a television more important than a table. “You sound like my brother.”

  He brought up his movie collection. “I’ll prove it to you. Pick anything you want.” Brett gestured with the remote. “But don’t worry, I’ll get around to buying more furniture, including a kitchen table. My sister offered, but we have different tastes.”

  She wondered what else the house was lacking. If she walked into his bedroom, would she find a sleeping bag on the floor? “Okay, if you say so. You’re the one who has to stand up while he eats breakfast, not me.”

  Jen didn’t wait for him, instead she sat down on the sofa. “Let’s test your opinion. What movies do we have to pick from?”

  He sat down too, his thigh rubbing against hers, and put an arm across her shoulders. “Take a look and pick whatever you want.” He handed her the remote and then undid the top two buttons on his shirt.

  She scrolled through the various movies, not at all surprised by what she found. Except for horror films, they liked all the same kind of movies. She’d never understood the appeal of horror movies or even books. What was so entertaining about being scared to death? She’d watched a few in college and then spent several nights sleeping with her dorm room light on and jumping at every single sound.

  “I’ve got two in mind. Do you prefer A New Hope or the first Lord of the Rings?”

  The fabric of his pants rubbed against her thigh, pulling her gaze to his long legs as he stretched them out. Many of the men she’d dated in the past had either been her height, or in one instance slightly shorter. She found it nice to be with someone taller than her for a change.

  “Whichever will keep you here longer.” His breath drifted over her skin, leaving a trail of goose bumps behind before he kissed her cheek.

  “We could always watch both.” She turned her head and met his eyes, the desire she saw in them kicking up the sensual excitement already humming inside her.

  His gaze dropped to her lips before meeting her eyes again. “If it keeps you here all night, we can do that.” Brett touched her lips with his. It was the gentlest kiss she’d ever had, yet her pulse quickened and unimaginable wanting ran through her.

  No one was expecting her at home, not even her dog. Before she drove to Salem, she’d stopped home to let Bo out and feed him. Since Kristen lived only a few miles away, she’d promised to visit after the family finished dinner. If Jen wasn’t home yet she’d take him back to her house. There was nothing to stop her from spending the whole night here.

  She pulled her mouth away so she could speak. “Or we could find another way to entertain ourselves.”

  Jen caught the spark in his eyes before she kissed the side of his neck. She made a path across his skin until her lips closed around his earlobe; then she gently raked her teeth across it. Brett’s soft groan reached her ears moments before he untied the knot on the side of her dress and pushed the material open. When his hand touched her bare skin, she sucked in a deep breath. She’d barely managed to exhale, when he cupped her breast and at the same time set his lips against hers.

  Chapter Six

  Brett watched Jen pull his New England Rebels T-shirt over her head.

  “I was worried I’d find a sleeping bag on your bedroom floor,” she said.

  “Bull.” He dug a pair of shorts out of his drawer and put them on. He didn’t bother with a shirt.

  “I’m not kidding. I thought maybe beds fell into the nonessential category along with kitchen tables.”

  He walked around the king-size bed. Although a queen would fit better in this room, he hated sleeping in anything smaller unless he had no other choice. “Believe it or not, I have two in the house.” He pointed to the bed next to Jen. “I got this one after I bought the house so I’d have a place to sleep when I visited. The mattress from my old condo is in one of the other bedrooms.”

  The house had three bedrooms in addition to the master. None of them were huge, but all were a decent size.

  Stepping closer, Jen linked her arms around his waist. His body reacted immediately to the feel of her hands on his skin. “Maybe there is some hope for you?” She kissed him before moving back. “I think it’s time to test your opinion of televisions. Ready for a movie?”

  He’d rather they get into bed and go back to finding other ways to entertain themselves. But if she wanted to watch a movie, he’d do it. “You’ll see I’m right.”

  In the living room, Jen picked her dress up from the floor and folded it before sitting down. “Any preference?” she asked, reaching for the remote they’d left on the table.

  “Whatever you want. I’ll be right back.”

  In the kitchen, he took two bottles of iced tea from the fridge. “
Hungry?” he called. When he watched a movie, he needed a snack. It didn’t matter if it’d been only five minutes or five hours since his last meal. If a movie was playing, he needed to munch on preferably something salty, but in a pinch cookies worked too.

  “Nope.”

  Brett opened the kitchen closet. Popcorn would be nice, but since he didn’t have any, the roasted peanuts would do. Before leaving the room, he grabbed the cell phone he’d left on the counter earlier. He wasn’t expecting any calls, but you never knew with Carl. Thursday the man had called him close to midnight.

  He handed Jen the open bottle of iced tea and sat down next to her. “If you change your mind, let me know.” The opening paragraph to A New Hope scrolled across the screen as the recognizable music filled the room. He’d read the words enough times he could recite them from memory. “Any plans for tomorrow?” He had no free time next week, so he wanted to spend as much time with her this weekend as he could.

  “I do have a hot date with my washing machine planned, but I can probably reschedule. I don’t think he’d mind.”

  “You’d do that for me?”

  Jen nodded. “But only this once. I can’t make a habit of it. He might get jealous.”

  “Tomorrow night there’s a block party on the town common. I have no idea what to expect. It might be awful. My buddy told me the town holds one every month starting in the spring. Tomorrow’s the last one until next year. He said there is usually food, music, and dancing.” Food and music he enjoyed. Dancing he only did if left with no other option, like when his sister dragged him on the dance floor at their cousin’s wedding in June. “Any interest in checking it out?”

  “Sure, sounds like it could be fun.” She took a sip from her iced tea and then set the bottle down on the coffee table. “What time does it start?”

  Good question. He hadn’t asked. “I don’t know. The town’s website should have it listed. It listed everything else.” He’d visited the site a handful of times and found information regarding every aspect of the town. “I can come pick you up sometime in the afternoon. Bring your dog too, and you can stay the night.”