Her First Love Billionaire

by Taylor Hart

  He stayed where he was, but his jaw tightened and his eyes turned to ice. “Your father, how is he?”

  “Daddy’s dead.” Madison’s voice was flat. “He had a heart attack and they couldn’t save him. And Mom got sick last year. Liver disease, but she was lucky and got a transplant a couple of months ago. She lives with me. Right now, she’s at my apartment, recovering.”

  For a long moment, they just stared at each other. Then he let out a long breath. “I’m sorry to hear about your father.”

  Madison’s father had never accepted Damon. It hadn’t been an open war, because they’d snuck around behind his back, but when he’d found out about them … he’d pretty much locked her away.

  “And I’m glad your mother’s okay.”

  She nodded. “How is your mom?” One night, she’d gone to Damon’s house and they’d eaten pancakes at midnight. It’d been so much fun.

  His face darkened. “Got sick. She passed.”

  She gasped. “I’m … sorry.”

  “Listen, it was complicated, Mads. I couldn’t have you waiting for me, I couldn’t—”

  She pointed at him with righteous indignation. “You told me you didn’t love me.” Traitorous tears fell down her cheeks, but there was nothing she could do. Damon had unleashed the past. “You broke me.” It’d taken her a good year and a threat from her father to send her to the mental ward if she didn’t get her stuff together, and after that, she’d finally gone to college, then the Peace Corps.

  He frowned, crossing to her. “Mads.”

  She wagged her finger at him, edging closer to the door. On the other side of that door were dozens of chattering people who were not paying attention to them. “You can’t be here.”

  “When I got out of the service, I saw you were engaged to Troy, the jerk face.” His eyes accused her.

  “Really, Damon? You think you get to stand there and judge me?” If he was closer, she might slap him again.

  His face fell. “You’re right. I don’t get to do that. I messed everything up.”

  Her pulse raced just remembering Troy. “Yes, Troy was at the same college, and believe me, he was happy to take advantage of my weakened emotional state.”

  Damon glared and his hand clenched. “That guy deserves a fist to the face.”

  “You said you didn’t love me,” she said simply.

  “So you weren’t engaged to him?”

  She let out a sigh. “He changed my status on social media, but he never asked me.”

  Stunned, Damon gestured toward the ballroom. “I guess the word engaged doesn’t mean much.”

  Madison practically growled. “I hate you. Go away!”

  Damon stepped closer to her. “Yet you’re still here. And I don’t think the engagement to Herbert means much, either.” He flashed a grin. “I guess timing is finally on our side.”

  She choked on the irony that he would even think that. “No, timing is definitely not on our side.” She glowered and held up her ring as a shield against the past. “Let me remind you, I said yes tonight.”

  He shrugged. “And you can go and tell him that you’ve thought about it and you’ve changed your mind, Mads.”

  There was that same stubborn will she’d admired all those years ago. Damon’s face conjured so many other memories from their past: stolen kisses behind the tennis courts, the long summer nights she would sneak out, the cool wind on her face as she held onto him on the back of his motorcycle … “Don’t call me that.”

  He lifted his hands, then dropped them. “Do you really love Herbert?”

  “Stop it.” She tried to move, but he stepped with her.

  He leaned in closer. “You can’t even tell me if you love him and you just agreed to marry him?”

  This was madness. How dare he? “You don’t get to ask that.” She shook her head, hating that a tear ran down her cheek. “It’s too late. Stay away from me.” She flung the door open and rushed out.

  “Wait!” he called out. “Mads!”

  Too late. She’d already immersed herself in a swarm of people. There was one thing she knew for sure: she had to stay as far away from Damon Duke as she could.

  Chapter 5

  Damon, That Summer

  Damon waited, sitting on the edge of the dock by the pond. He glanced at his phone. It was past midnight. His heart was beating out of his chest. This had been a stupid idea. They could get caught for trespassing. This property was technically not owned by the country club; it belonged to Old Man Johnson, who never liked having people on his property.

  He sucked in a breath and tried to relax. The night was calm, the stars were bright, and the moon was perfect. She’d told him that she couldn’t sneak out, yet he’d come anyway.

  He leaned back, thinking she would be sneaking out of one of the little beach houses. His dump of a house squatted next to the tracks less than five miles away. He scoffed. His mom was at work right now, so she didn’t exactly try to keep track of him. Sure, she always left some food and tried to ask about him, but he couldn’t burden her with his problems. He’d quit doing that the moment his father had left last year. Would he even tell the redhead the truth? Madison. He knew her name and he’d seen her fancy-dressed parents as they enjoyed the Beach amenities. She was way out of his league.

  An image of her in that black bikini and huge white sun hat filled his mind. Dang, she was beautiful. Yes, way, way out of his league. Frankie kept reminding him of that every time he caught Damon watching her.

  There was a sudden creak on the dock, and he jumped to his feet. Excitement pulsed through him as she appeared, clearly out of breath.

  They both just stared at each other for a few moments. He couldn’t believe it. She was here.

  “Hey.” His heart lifted at the sight of her. She’d come to meet him, even though he was a nobody.

  She bent over, putting her hands onto her knees, still sucking in breaths. “Hey. That’s a bit of a run, isn’t it?”

  He walked closer to her, unable to stop the goofy grin that filled his face. This girl had gotten into his head this past week, had pretty much taken over his mind, and now she was here.

  She looked around, smiling. “This is cool at night.”

  He tried to act cool as he gestured to the end. “Want to sit and talk?” Dang, would he tell her the truth? He could make something up. Something that wasn’t so pathetic.

  She hesitated. Her eyes caught his, and intense attraction pulsed between them. Sure, he’d liked girls before, but this girl was different. From the moment she’d put her hand on his cheek and said he was the most handsome guy there, he’d wanted her. Not in just a physical way, though that was definitely there. No, it was this deep want, this need. It was the sort of thing men fought wars over.

  She nodded and then passed him. He smelled a tinge of vanilla scent wafting off of her, and he liked it.

  They both sat down, and she pulled her flip-flops off to gently scrape her toe in the water. “I love this place.”

  He wanted to know everything about her. After a moment of comfortable silence, he asked, “So where are you from?”

  “Oh.” She seemed a bit nervous, too. “I’m from Boston.”

  He thought of private school, manners, refinement. It made sense with her hint of an accent.

  “And you’re from here?” She shrugged and caught his eye. “Right?”

  “Yep. Born and raised, but I’m not staying here.” He’d just realized it, but he thought it sounded cooler if he said it like he’d planned it all along.

  “You’re not?”

  “Nope.”

  “Where do you want to end up?”

  “Ah, I think Texas.” He grinned; that wasn’t a bad idea. “I’ll get me a little money and do cowboy stuff.”

  She let out a laugh. “You don’t look like a cowboy.”

  “Why not?”

  Her gaze drifted up toward his scar. “Well, maybe you do. Did your dad really do that?” She gently put her fingers
on his face.

  Fire burned through him at her touch. “Yes.”

  “You’re brave.”

  He took her hand, letting its warmth mingle with his own. “No, I’m not.” Their eyes met, and he found himself telling her the truth. “My dad should have left long before last year. He was a drunk. No good for me or my mom.” He raked a hand through his hair, hating his nervousness.

  “It’s okay. You don’t have to tell me.” She blinked, and he saw tears forming in her eyes.

  “Why are you crying?” he asked.

  Slowly, she took his hand again. “Because your dad hurt you.”

  There was silence between them for a long time. Damon realized he’d fallen in love with her. Hook, line, and sinker. It wasn’t because she was a gorgeous redhead, which she was. No, it was because there was such goodness in those emerald-green eyes, reminding him of his mother. Unlike his mother, though, she hadn’t been beaten down by life.

  He could hardly breathe. “I’m fine, really.”

  She squeezed his hand and blinked harder.

  “The day he left, he was angry, and he tried to hit my mom.” He looked down, not wanting to see her reaction when he told her. “I got in the way and that made him angrier, so he broke his beer bottle and then he …” Damon was back in that moment, remembering how the stench of alcohol had soured the air. “I really think he was just trying to scare me, just cut the air, but … he got too close.”

  “Damon,” she whispered.

  He looked up, seeing the compassion in her eyes.

  “I’m sorry.” She let go of his hand and reached up. Her cool fingers were suddenly on his face.

  He jerked back at her touch. All kinds of crazy explosions went off inside of him. All he wanted to do was kiss her, but he didn’t. “Why? He didn’t get my eye, so that’s good.”

  She frowned. “Does it still hurt?”

  “No,” he said quickly, taking her hand back into his own. “Your touch just surprised me.”

  Still, she peered at the scar. “You’re brave, defending your mom,” she stated, as if she’d decided it and therefore it was cemented into truth.

  He liked how it made him feel. How she made him feel.

  “What are you thinking?” She stared into his eyes like she could peer into his soul.

  “That you are good, and I want to kiss you.”

  A mischievous glint lit up her eyes, and she stood. “Nope. No kissing on a first date.”

  A surge of laughter jerked out of him as he stood too. “This isn’t a date.”

  Lifting her eyebrows, she looked uncertain. “It’s not?”

  He wouldn’t make a fool of himself by telling her how much he wished he was the guy to date her, or how flattered he was she thought he could date her. “Nope.”

  She shrugged and moved back to the shore, picking up a rock. “Too bad it’s not a date, because I really love this pond.” She threw the rock in. “It would have been a memorable date. I had to sneak out, and I was scared to death they would catch me.”

  Man, the girl was smart, and every part of him wanted her so much in this moment. More than he should want a girl like her.

  She held out another pebble. “Can we at least have a rock-throwing competition on our non-first date?”

  He laughed and took the pebble, then waited. “Okay.”

  She grinned at him. “One, two, three.”

  Both of them heaved their rocks. Of course, his went farther.

  “Well, you passed that test, so that’s good.”

  “Test?” He laughed again. This girl was unreal. “What are the tests?”

  She moved back and picked up more rocks.

  He followed and grabbed a handful, liking how they had fallen into easy conversation and she hadn’t made a huge deal about his father.

  She put all the rocks down by her feet on the dock, then started skipping them across the water.

  “What are the tests?” he asked, trying not to sound too eager.

  “Wouldn’t be fair to tell you the tests, would it? But, you know, a certain guy has to be able to throw a rock farther, and he has to be able to stand up to Troy Jerk Face.”

  Damon grinned and skipped a rock, liking her even more. “That’s his last name, huh?”

  She smiled back. “Yup.”

  “Not boyfriend?” He’d watched how Troy tried pretty hard to always be around Madison.

  She shook her head. “I told you: last summer, before we left for home, at the bonfire, he kissed me. But I slapped him.”

  This made him laugh. “Awesome.”

  “We texted a little over the school year, but he’s just …” She shrugged.

  He didn’t fill in a million words, though he wanted to. He simply nodded, playing it cool.

  For a while, they just threw rocks into the pond. The world felt still, at ease.

  She sighed. “I’d better head back so I don’t get caught.”

  He had an idea. “Have you ever ridden a motorcycle?” He was banking on the idea that a girl like her hadn’t.

  Her eyes widened. “No.”

  Satisfaction spilled through him as he thought about how he and Frankie had spent a lot of nights in Frankie’s parents’ garage, making the bike run. It purred like a cat now. “Would that be good for a first date?”

  She laughed. “I think it would.”

  Chapter 6

  Madison, That Summer

  A week later, Madison lay under the cabana tent with her eyes closed, thinking about that motorcycle ride. She hadn’t stopped thinking about how it felt to ride fast, to put her arms around Damon’s waist and lay her head against his back. The guy was tall and strong. He had this air about him, this intensity. Not just because he was clearly tough, though he had to be with what little she knew already about him. No, it was more that he reminded her of a coiled snake: poised, controlled, but ready. Someday, when he finally launched, there was no telling how far he’d go.

  When she’d gotten off the bike a way down from the house they were staying in, he’d turned it off and dismounted. She’d wanted him to kiss her. All he’d done was put out his hand, all professional-like, and said, “Thank you for coming on our first official non-date.”

  Feeling silly, she’d shaken his hand, noting its callused feel—so different from the summer party kids she hung out with all day long. “Thank you for telling me about you.”

  He’d kept her hand inside of his for a moment, but it wasn’t awkward. It was like neither of them wanted to pull back from the other’s touch. He’d smiled at her. “Can we do an official date sometime?”

  “I don’t know. My parents are pretty strict.”

  He’d tugged his hand back and the side of his lip tugged up. “I get it. I don’t fit into your world.”

  “No,” she’d protested, but he was right.

  “Okay.” He’d looked disappointed as he’d turned for his motorcycle. “See ya.”

  “Damon, wait.”

  He’d turned back, wearing the vacant look he used during his shifts at the country club.

  She’d closed the distance between them. “You’re partly right. My parents have this vision of my life, a vision where I finish next year at my private school, then go to Yale, where—”

  “You date the right guys,” he filled in for her.

  She hadn’t wanted to talk about that, but he was right. “Can I have your number?” she’d asked tentatively.

  He’d crossed his arms. “Why?”

  She’d flashed him a glorious smile, knowing that no one could resist this smile—her mother made her practice it for political parties.

  He’d frowned. “That looks painful. Don’t hurt yourself.”

  Embarrassed, she’d pushed him in the shoulder. “Shut up. I practice this smile. This is the winning smile. The one that always works.”

  He’d laughed and gently touched her cheek with the back of his hand. “I like your real smile. The one you gave me that first day, when you told me I w
as the most handsome man.”

  Her stomach had flip-flopped. “Okay.”

  Slowly, he’d pulled out his phone. “What’s your number?”

  After she’d given him her number, she’d watched him get on his bike and take off. She’d known in that moment that she didn’t care how many times she had to sneak out of the house or what other lies she would have to tell; she would see Damon again.

  Now, she picked up her phone and checked it again, for the hundredth time since she’d given him her number. Nothing.

  Granted, he was probably working and couldn’t text her. But she’d noticed he hadn’t been at the towel shack. He hadn’t been there all week, actually.

  She checked her phone again, then put it back beside her and picked up her teen romance to read. Try as she might, she couldn’t focus on it.

  “Well, what’s going on, Madison?” Troy slumped into the chair beside her, with Chelsea, Brad, and Engrid following him. The summer crew, as their parents affectionately called them.

  Engrid sat next to her. “You haven’t played with us all day.” She mock petted her hair. “Come play with us, Madi!”

  Brad sat at Engrid’s feet, tapping her toes. “Yeah. Come to a dance class. That crazy Ms. Berry is back this year, and she’s teaching salsa.” Engrid and Brad had danced a lot last summer together; they were the only ones from their group who wanted to.

  Madison exhaled, feeling herself weaken.

  Chelsea sat next to Troy, leaning back into him. “No, no dancing. Let’s go in Troy’s dad’s Mustang and drive around.”

  “Yes!” Engrid stood. “Troy,” she said officially, clapping twice, “usher us off on an adventure.”

  Troy let out a long breath, as if the whole idea was a great bother to him. Gently, he nudged Madison. “What do you say—you in? I’ll go get the keys from the old man.”