An Endless Kind of Love: A Billionaire Small Town Love Story (Kinds of Love Book 3)

by Krista Lakes

  “And you must be Bonnie,” PawPaw said, releasing his grandson and stepping toward her. “I can’t tell you how nice it is to meet you.”

  The man spoke with a soft southern drawl that Bonnie found incredibly endearing. She shook his hand, and he grinned at her.

  “It’s very nice to meet you, sir,” she told him. “Thank you for having us.”

  “Of course! Please come inside,” he replied. “Would you like some lemonade? Milly makes the best lemonade I’ve ever had.”

  He offered her his arm like a true southern gentleman to escort her inside. Bonnie grinned and looked back at Dylan.

  “Milly really does make the best lemonade in the whole city,” Dylan told her. “I’ll get the bags.”

  She took PawPaw’s arm, and he led her inside the house. It was just as cozy on the inside as it was beautiful on the outside. She walked across a beautiful marble entrance, feeling like she should be wearing a hoop skirt and big southern bonnet. The marble gave way to wood floors and simple, yet elegant furniture. It felt grand and welcoming at the same time.

  They made their way to the kitchen. Black and white tiled floors and white appliances dominated the space, and there was a large wooden table next to a big window overlooking a garden. It was possibly the most beautiful kitchen Bonnie had ever seen.

  Mr. Abbott dropped her off at the kitchen table, pulling out a wooden chair for her to sit on before going to the refrigerator and taking out a glass pitcher. He carefully poured two glasses and joined her at the table.

  “So, you’re the woman who has stolen my grandson’s heart,” he said, handing her a glass.

  “What?” She was glad she hadn’t tasted her drink yet because she nearly choked on her own breath. “What makes you say that?”

  She did like the way it made her heart swell to hear it. Dylan had certainly stolen her heart, but she wasn’t sure she had his. He was, after all, a billionaire that could have anyone.

  Mr. Abbott chuckled. “You’re the first girl he’s brought here,” the man told her.

  “I can’t be the first girl he’s brought,” Bonnie replied, shaking her head. She had a hard time believing she was that special.

  Mr. Abbott just sipped his lemonade and shrugged.

  “Really?” she asked.

  Mr. Abbot chuckled and reached across the table to pat her hand. “He tells me you’re a teacher,” he said, changing the subject to something she was more comfortable with.

  “Yes, yes I am,” she replied. She suddenly felt very nervous. She hoped she could live up to PawPaw’s expectations. She wanted to make Dylan proud. “I’m a special education teacher.”

  “That means you have patience and can deal with his stubbornness,” he replied. He motioned to her untouched glass. “Try the lemonade.”

  “Oh, of course.” She quickly took a sip. The sour of lemon and the sweetness of sugar hit her tongue in perfect harmony. “Oh, my. This is amazing.”

  “Milly won’t tell me the recipe, but I think she uses honey and sugar.” He took a long sip and smacked his lips. His eyes went to hers. They were a lighter than Dylan’s but had the same dark warmth that she found intriguing. “Do you love him?”

  He luckily asked the question after she finished swallowing her sip of lemonade. As it was, she still had to set her glass down and take a moment to compose herself.

  “I think I do,” she replied honestly, her eyes on her glass of lemonade. “We haven’t known each other for very long, but he makes me very happy. I’ve never met anyone who makes me as stupid giddy-happy as he does.” She looked up from the table at him and shrugged. “Does that answer your question?”

  Mr. Abbott gave her an appraising look, his dark eyes thoughtful. He didn’t say anything, just sipped on his lemonade.

  “My ears are burning,” Dylan announced, walking into the kitchen. He got himself a glass and poured his own lemonade. “Were you two talking about me?”

  “Wouldn’t you like to know?” his grandfather teased. He smiled at Bonnie and gave her a friendly wink.

  “Tell Milly her lemonade is still as delicious as always,” Dylan said, setting his empty glass on the counter. He looked over at Bonnie. “Milly is PawPaw’s housekeeper.”

  “She keeps me in line,” Mr. Abbott agreed. He stood up from the table. “Well, I know that Dylan has a wonderful supper planned for you this evening. I’m going to get my old bones to bed.”

  “Oh? You aren’t joining us?” Bonnie asked, rising from the table as well.

  Mr. Abbott smiled and patted her arm as he came around. “Thank you, darling, but no.”

  “Thank you for the lemonade, Mr. Abbott,” Bonnie replied, trying to think of all the manners her mother had tried to teach her. “I hope we’ll see you in the morning.”

  “Call me PawPaw,” Mr. Abbott told her with a smile. “And it’s my pleasure to have you here.”

  He patted her arm and then headed off to the stairs to go to bed.

  “He didn’t give you too much grief, did he?” Dylan asked once his grandfather had left the kitchen. “He can be a little crusty sometimes.”

  “He’s wonderful,” Bonnie assured him. “He obviously loves you very much.”

  “Well, what’s not to love?” Dylan asked, indicating to himself. She laughed, and he grinned. “Would you like some dinner?”

  “I would love some, but could I freshen up first?” Bonnie looked down at her shirt to see she’d spilled some lemonade on her front. She sure was classy sometimes.

  “Of course,” Dylan said. “Let me show you to your room.”

  He took her up the grand staircase and down a large hallway full of beautiful paintings. Bonnie hoped she’d have time to explore the house during the daytime.

  “This is your room,” Dylan said, pointing to the first door on the left.

  “Okay,” she said. “Where’s your room?”

  “Right across the hall,” he replied, motioning behind him. “And PawPaw is all the way at the end of the hallway. Plus, he’s a deep sleeper.”

  Bonnie shook her head but grinned at him. “You’re naughty.”

  “You like it,” he replied. He kissed her cheek. “Come downstairs when you’re ready. There’s something in the bedroom for you.”

  She looked up at him, and he grinned before going into his own room. She smiled and went to open her door.

  The room was made for a princess. Two French doors stood open to a balcony overlooking the back gardens. The sounds of twilight filled the air, and the scent of magnolias filled the room. She looked over at the beautiful canopy bed and saw a brand new dress laying out for her.

  She fingered the soft fabric. Bright red cherries covered the simple A-line pattern. It looked adorable and incredibly southern to her eyes. She loved it. It was the perfect dress for the evening.

  She went to the bathroom and cleaned up before coming back out to put on the dress. The bathroom was just as lavish and beautiful as the bedroom.

  I could get used to this, she thought to herself as she slid the soft dress over her shoulders. The dress fit perfectly. It shaped her hips and hugged in the right places. She couldn’t have picked a better dress if she’d tried.

  She fixed her hair and makeup and went downstairs, feeling like a princess meeting her prince charming.

  Chapter 28

  Bonnie

  Bonnie descended the beautiful grand staircase and felt as regal as Scarlett O'Hara meeting Rhett Butler. Dylan waited for her at the bottom of the stairs, his eyes on her as she came down, step by step. He wore dark dress pants and a dark gray dress shirt that showed off his shoulders and trim waist. He looked good enough to eat.

  “Wow,” he said as held out his hand for her. “You look beyond amazing.”

  She grinned. “You have good taste,” she told him. “Thank you for the dress.”

  “My pleasure,” he replied, holding out his arm. “This way to dinner.”

  She rested her hand on his forearm as they walked. She cou
ld get used to this, she decided. She could get used to an elegant life with him. They stepped outside and into what Bonnie would classify as the backyard, but it was less backyard and more magical fairy garden.

  A small stone fountain gurgled in the center with neat paving stones leading off into different paths. The scent of magnolias was thick on the humid air, and the hum of insects and birds were music. She didn't feel hot though. It was the perfect temperature to sit out and drink something cold.

  Dylan guided her to a small table and chairs set off to the side. White linen tablecloths with white china and polished silver sat waiting with two flickering candles as accents. Dylan pulled out her chair like a true southern gentleman before sitting himself.

  “This is beautiful,” Bonnie whispered, looking around the garden. Everything was lush and green. The hum of insects filled the air, but none buzzed around her. She suspected Dylan had something nearby to repel them and keep their evening comfortable.

  “So, tonight's meal is all my favorite foods from New Orleans,” Dylan told her. “I hope you like them.”

  “I'm sure I will love them,” she assured him. “You haven't given me a bad meal yet.”

  He grinned. “First up, oysters Rockefeller.”

  A man in a waiter's uniform came up to their table and carefully deposited a large silver tray in the center for the two of them to split. He then poured each of them a glass of wine.

  “Wow.” Bonnie took a sip of her wine and watched the waiter. “You really went all out.”

  Dylan shrugged. “It was fun to set up. Now, try them. I'm curious to see what do you think.”

  She reached for an oyster shell. It smelled amazing, even if it looked a little strange and green. She used her fork to put the oyster in her mouth and sighed with pleasure. The oyster was baked in butter and covered in what Bonnie suspected was breadcrumbs and herbs. It melted in her mouth with richness.

  “That's delicious,” she said, reaching for another.

  Dylan grinned. “A New Orleans restaurant came up with them over a hundred years ago. They were so rich, they had to be named after the richest man at the time.” He reached for one of the half shells. “Thus, oysters Rockefeller.”

  “They are amazing,” she said, happily taking another half shell. “I don't usually go for oysters, but these are really good.”

  “I'm glad you like them,” he replied, a pleased grin filling his face as he watched her enjoy the food.

  She paused. “Are you trying to seduce me, Dylan Abbott?” she asked. “I mean, oysters are an aphrodisiac.”

  “Maybe,” he replied with a confident grin. “And we're only on the appetizer.”

  She laughed and reached for another.

  “You ate this growing up?” she asked, as they finished off the plate of oysters. “This doesn't seem like kid food.”

  “I didn't like these until I was in high school,” Dylan admitted. “We would come out here for Thanksgiving and Christmas. My dad would pick up oysters at the market on our way here just for PawPaw to make these. They always make me think of holidays now.”

  Bonnie watched as Dylan's eyes went distant with the memory of his father.

  “You miss him,” she said softly. Dylan's dark eyes came back to her.

  “Yes.” He sighed. “We butted heads a fair amount, but he was a good dad. He just wanted the best for me.”

  "Is he the one who taught you how to work on cars?" she asked, sipping her wine. It was light and complimented the oysters well.

  Dylan nodded. “It was the one thing we could always agree on. He was always fixing up junkers and mending the farm equipment. I loved to help him. He taught me everything I know about cars.”

  Bonnie could just imagine a small Dylan with his hands in the engine helping his father. The dark eyes bright with excitement and the nimble fingers learning the parts. It made her smile.

  “Is that how you met Carter Williamson?” Bonnie asked. “I am a little curious how you became friends with the man who owns W Motors.”

  Dylan chuckled. “We billionaires have to stick together,” he replied. “It's a tough world out there for us.”

  “Oh, I'm sure,” Bonnie agreed as the waiter returned and filled their glasses. “Those gold plated jets don't buy themselves.”

  Dylan chuckled.

  “I bought one of the first versions of his electric cars, and he wanted my feedback,” Dylan explained. He smiled at the memory. “We talked cars for a good two hours without realizing it. Our secretaries were not pleased.”

  “Dinner, sir.” The waiter placed two bowls in front of each of them before bowing away.

  “Oh, this smells so good.” Bonnie started to drool.

  The bowl before her wasn't fancy. It looked rather simple, but it smelled absolutely heavenly. Bonnie knew what it was from their dinner on the overlook. Jambalaya.

  “This is my grandfather's secret recipe,” Dylan told her. “I asked him to make it for us tonight. You won't find better in the entire city.”

  Bonnie grinned and dug in. Spicy and savory flavors filled her mouth. The simple ingredients blended to perfection in her mouth. Rice, shrimp, sausage, celery, peppers, and seasonings all were cooked to perfection. She could see why Dylan loved this meal. She felt honored that he'd shared it with her.

  “My brother would love this,” she said, barely pausing long enough to get the words out before taking another bite.

  “Yeah?” Dylan looked up.

  “He loves spicy,” she replied with a smile. She looked around. “Actually, I think he'd love this place.”

  “I can't wait to meet him,” Dylan replied.

  Bonnie swallowed hard. That meant future. She looked up and found herself wanting her brother to meet Dylan. She wanted to have Christmas here with the two of them and PawPaw. She could see a whole future where the two men of her life were friends.

  She wanted it.

  “Once the trial's over, I want you to meet him.” It felt good to say the words. “I wish you could meet him now. He's not a car guy, but I think you two would get along.”

  “What do you plan on doing after the trial?” Dylan asked. She noticed how he paused, as if afraid of her answer.

  She looked down at her plate. It was empty.

  "I'm not really sure," she said slowly. She looked up and into his eyes. They were dark in the twilight, but the candlelight made them sparkle. Her heart sped up, and she knew her answer just by looking at him. "I want to stay with you."

  She loved the slow smile that filled his handsome face. She loved the way his dark eyes lightened with joy.

  “I'd like that very much.” He reached out and took her hand. His touch was gentle, yet it gave her strength.

  The waiter cleared his throat once they'd had their quiet moment.

  “Dessert, sir. Ma'am.” He had two beautiful plates that looked more like art than dessert. He carefully set them down, handed Dylan a lighter, and then disappeared back into the darkness of the garden.

  “Dessert is my favorite,” Dylan announced. “Beignets and bananas foster.”

  Dylan flicked the lighter to life and lit the bananas on fire. Bonnie shrieked with surprise and delight as the flames reached into the night. The flames receded, leaving the most amazing aroma.

  She carefully put some of the flambeed bananas on a plate and added one of the square doughnuts to the side. It was heaven on a plate. Sugar, sweet, and delicious.

  “Your grandfather said that I'm the first girl you've brought home,” she said after a moment.

  She loved that his cheeks darkened. He set down his beignet. “Yes. Well, other than my high school girlfriend who came to Thanksgiving.”

  “Sounds serious,” she teased. “Do I need to be worried?”

  He shrugged and finished his beignet. “We did date for three months, which is basically forever in high school.”

  She nodded, finishing her own beignet. “So, I should be worried.”

  He reached over and wipe
d some powdered sugar from her cheek. “Very.”

  She loved the way her body heated when he touched her. She loved the goosebumps that popped up when he said her name.

  “Well, maybe I can help you forget her,” she said. With him touching her skin, she wasn't interested in dessert anymore, no matter how delicious it was.

  “Yeah?” His voice deepened and the crooked sexy smile she couldn't get enough of filled his face. “I might know a way.”

  She grinned and grabbed his hand. “Show me.”

  Together they disappeared from the garden and ran laughing up to Dylan's bedroom.

  Chapter 29

  Bonnie

  Bonnie tiptoed down the hallway to Dylan’s room. She felt like a teenager again, sneaking past her parents to meet the love of her life. Only this time, she really was with the love of her life.

  “You know he can’t hear you,” Dylan said, opening up the door to his room. “That door is solid, plus he sleeps with a white noise machine on. Nothing wakes him up.”

  “Don’t spoil my fun,” she replied. “I’m being sneaky.”

  He chuckled and together they went into his room. Where Bonnie’s room was delicate and feminine, Dylan’s was masculine and nautical. It had the same French doors leading out to a balcony, and the bathroom was similar, but it was much more male. It suited him.

  “This was always my room as a kid,” Dylan explained. For a moment he looked small and innocent before returning to the powerful man Bonnie knew.

  “You ever think you’d bring a girl up here?” she asked, looking around. She went to the French doors and opened them up. The magnolia-scented breeze was heavenly if a little warm. She could see over the garden and out into the acres of land. Everything was gilded in the moonlight and almost surreal with beauty.

  “I hoped,” he told her. He joined her out on the balcony. “Never got quite this far.”

  “Well, I hope I don’t get you in trouble,” she said, making her voice breathy and sensual.

  “Oh, we wouldn’t want that,” he agreed, pulling her to him.