Only a Date with a Billionaire (The Only Us Billionaire Romance Series Book 5)

by Ellie Hall

  Had his mouth not been full, he would’ve smiled and laughed too. After a moment he said, “I’m glad you approve.”

  “I seriously approve, you could’ve opened a restaurant instead of a gym.”

  “You can thank my mum. She insisted all of us learn to cook. She said, ‘I won’t send kids out into the world to end up eating frozen food or junk food.’”

  Sophie raised an eyebrow and then laughed. “Yeah, considering I bake everything from scratch and use local and seasonal ingredients as much as possible, it’s kind of embarrassing that the best I can do is a premade frozen meal for my dinner most nights.”

  “I think I can remedy that. We can trade.”

  “In that case, I’ll supply you with all the breakfast baked goods you can eat.”

  “And I’ll cover dinner.”

  Teagh went on to explain that now that the bulk of the work was done getting the gym up and running, his attention was going to turn to training. “That means I have to clean up my diet a bit.”

  “Will you at least wait until after the wedding? You don’t want to miss a slice of cake.”

  He grunted, not at all enthused about going to the wedding even though he was happy his cousin had found love.

  Eager to change the subject, he said, “One of my buddies from my boxing days is flying in this weekend and will be taking over as the manager. Don’t get me wrong, I’ll have my hands involved in everything, but I realized all the bookkeeping, paperwork, scheduling, and general activities need to be covered by someone qualified and will also free up my time to do what I do best.”

  “Like punching things?”

  “Something like that.” While Teagh was especially skilled at throwing hooks, arguably one of the most powerful boxing punches, he’d taken much from his martial arts training and applied it to boxing. He was fast and had strong reflexes. He’d developed a specialized training program to maximize strength and flexibility and minimize injury. It was proven effective, making his waiting list for new clients long.

  “I should probably hire someone too at some point. I’m not ready yet though. I still have some things to iron out. This bakery was my dream for so long. I imagined it would be successful, but slower, quieter...”

  “I turned down my music like you asked.”

  She chuckled. “I mean quainter, I think.”

  “Like you’d have a trickle of people coming in instead of a typhoon?”

  “Exactly. I’m not complaining. Eventually, I will get some more people in there, but I’m still finding my footing. Also, to be honest, it’s a lot of responsibility. The employees are relying on me for their livelihood, paycheck, insurance, all that stuff.”

  “It’s tough being an entrepreneur—”

  “But worth it,” she said.

  “So far I agree.”

  “And you get great neighbors.”

  “You think I’m great?” he asked. He hid a smile.

  Sophie somehow broke through his barriers and landed a hook right in his kisser. Not literally of course, but he hadn’t seen the way she made him feel coming.

  “Apart from the loud rock, you’re not too shabby.”

  “Well, how about those self-defense lessons and then you can let me know what you really think.”

  “As long as it doesn’t involve a job where you nearly knock me over,” she said, referring to their first encounter during his jog to the gym during the wee hours of the morning.

  “I wouldn’t think of it.” He fought the urge to tuck a loose piece of hair behind her ear.

  The corner of his lip lifted. He’d nearly forgotten about that but not about her. She was the kind of woman who was unforgettable and unshakable. At least as far as he could tell.

  Despite being new to the city, the incident in the alley, and running a business, she was strong and tough in her own way. The kind of person who didn’t give up when things got hard.

  After cleaning up, Teagh gave Sophie a primer on awareness and prevention. “The best thing to do is always be mindful of your surroundings and alert. Whenever possible, the best thing to do is avoid a physical altercation.” He reviewed methods for doing so by moving with confidence and verbal de-escalation techniques.

  Sophie listened intently and then they roleplayed various scenarios a few times.

  “Next, I’m going to teach you ten physical skills, including strikes, how to escape an attack from behind, and if your hands are trapped.”

  He showed her vulnerable target areas before they got started and a few different basics.

  “I also want you to remember that you’re working with me. If at any point you panic or feel unsafe, say so. This is just practice, but it can be intense. I want you to feel empowered, not vulnerable. That said, be gentle.” Clyde winked, intending for it to set her at ease, but he also didn’t want to walk away with a black eye since he didn’t have his protective gear on hand.

  She let out a long breath, squared her shoulders, and motioned him forward. “Okay, bring it.”

  After about a half-hour of practicing several moves, Teagh got them each a glass of water.

  “Maybe next time we won’t practice on a full stomach and I’ll be smart and wear armor.” He rubbed his arm.

  “I’m sorry if I got a bit carried away.” She was winded and her chest rose and fell as she caught her breath.

  “I heal fast.” At least physically—the internal fight he was waging by simply being in Sophie’s presence was a different issue.

  “You’re a great teacher and I think it would be fun to take a boxing class.”

  “We have one especially for women, but also a beginner class for anyone.” He didn’t mind the idea of seeing her more often. Not at all.

  The entire time they were working on defensive tactics, he was in full-professional mode. But now that they’d stopped, he became well aware of the close contact, the comfort they’d developed with each other, and the thin sheen of sweat glowing on Sophie’s skin. She was radiant.

  “I could trade you for baking skills.” She jokingly knocked his arm with her fist.

  “Ouch.”

  “Ohmigosh! I’m so sorry.”

  “I’m kidding.” He almost smirked.

  “Well, I’m not. I’d be happy to teach you... Although considering the delicious dinner, something tells me that you know your way around the kitchen whether cooking or baking.”

  “I have to keep up my reputation as a tough boxer, you know. Can’t let anyone know I’m also an ace while wearing an apron.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah.” She paused as though thinking of something and a shadow crossed her face. “When you’d originally asked me if I wanted to take self-defense, your expression was hard like I’d done something wrong.”

  He shook his head. “It wasn’t that. Even then I hated the idea of something happening to you. But that look? I suppose I was warning myself.”

  “Warning yourself? Why?”

  “Not to get too close.” He felt the inner jolt that sent him reeling like he’d been struck by an opponent. The intensity of his feelings for her were happening so fast. He stepped closer to her, closing the space between them.

  “Why not?” she asked, trembling a little as she met his eyes. The look wasn’t of fear, but of longing.

  “Because of what could happen,” he replied.

  “What could happen?” she asked.

  He lifted his hands toward her jaw. “May I?

  She nodded, lifting slightly on her toes, leaning in, responding physically. “Yes,” she breathed.

  “What could happen you asked? This.” He brought his lips to her forehead and kissed her gently.

  As he drew back, her eyes sparkled, and he tucked her under his arms, wanting to keep her safe and close, but unsure whether or not he could risk letting her in.

  Chapter 9

  Sophie

  Being with Teagh brought on a physical response in Sophie that she’d never before felt with another man, not that there wer
e many in her past.

  It was security—a deep knowing that she was safe with him and that he would protect her.

  It was longing—to be with him, to hear his stories, to experience his lips on her skin again.

  It was beautiful—when his blue-gray eyes were on her she felt adored and admired.

  She was glad to get the crash course in self-defense and did feel more confident and empowered knowing that she had a basic idea of how to protect herself, but hoped she’d never need to do so. There was also the delicious meal Teagh had prepared. It nourished her and she wouldn’t say no to a dinner-dessert trade situation, especially considering they lived in the same building.

  She was in the kitchen at the bakery, stirring up the ingredients for a batch of oatmeal raisin cookies. The spoon slowed and then her hand stilled and not because the dough was dense.

  It was because of the tender kiss Teagh had placed on her forehead. It struck her right then. Full-on inner-explosion, complete with heart-shaped fireworks.

  The night before, she’d walked back to her apartment in a daze. Sure, she was tired because she had been up early, had worked all day, then had mock-battled with Teagh, but it wasn’t that kind of daze. It was the kind of daze that had a swoony cushion to it, an airy feeling like she was walking on clouds or a freshly whipped meringue.

  Sophie hadn’t had difficulty sleeping, but as the morning hours passed, she’d given into more moments of distraction than she’d care to admit. It was every second with Teagh and then the kiss. How could something so sweet, so gentle land so firmly in her heart?

  She replayed the moment. The sight of his strong hands, moving toward her jaw and then holding her gently. His lips asking permission, and then his eyes so kind, so true.

  She rocked back on her heels. Then, of course, the kiss he’d planted on her forehead, so tender, so surprising, but so right.

  It was like they’d existed side by side before that moment: neighboring businesses, apartments, and interests. Then the kiss sealed the possibility of something more. No, it invited it in and she was there for it.

  She’d let go of Hayden and their past. She was living a new life, had a new job, and perhaps, a new man. One she was attending a wedding within a matter of days. A smile lit up her face and she returned to her work.

  As the morning wore on, she couldn’t help but daydream about what she’d wear to Teagh’s cousin’s wedding, how he’d look dressed up in a suit with his lean muscular build and confident stance, and if there’d be another occasion for a kiss that would make her feel as warm as it did in the bakery’s kitchen.

  That afternoon, Sophie expected Teagh’s parents to stop by the bakery, but they must’ve been busy sightseeing.

  For the next couple of days, Teagh must have also been wrapped up in prep work for the gym’s opening the following week. She scarcely saw him except putting out a bowl of water for the occasional dogs that hung out with their owners seated at the two bistro tables in front of the bakery.

  She was going to summon him to meet her in the alley when she was delivering the homeless man some croissants and other baked items, but he’d just ducked through the metal door at the rear of his portion of the building, disappearing inside.

  The homeless man was seated on a crate and eating a sandwich. Teagh must’ve given it to him.

  “Hi,” she said cautiously.

  He looked up at her and seemed to fold into himself, staring at the sandwich intently as though afraid or ashamed to meet her eyes.

  She drew a breath, feeling a shock of fear, but remembering she could protect herself and the truth was, she didn’t think the man would try to cause her harm again. He’d been starving and the least she could do was give him some food. “What’s your name?”

  He stopped chewing.

  A long minute of strained silence followed.

  “I’m Sophie.”

  “Tony.”

  “Hi, Tony. It’s nice to meet you.”

  He set the sandwich in the plastic to-go container. “I’m mighty sorry for how I acted. That was out of line and I’m ash—” He seemed to choke on the words.

  “I know you’re sorry.”

  “You and the boxer are too kind. He could’ve killed me. You could’ve called the police. Sometimes I think jail would be better than this existence, but instead, you fed me. I’m grateful.”

  “You’re welcome and that’s nice to hear.” She shifted from foot to foot. “What do you do on Sundays?” she asked.

  He shrugged. “Same as always. Just try to survive.”

  “It might not be my place, but I’d feel, well, I’d feel ashamed if I didn’t say it. There’s a wonderful church over on 96th and 3rd. You’re welcome there.”

  “Not like this.” He pulled at his torn jacket.

  “Just as you are, Tony.” She set down the box by his feet. “I hope to see you there.”

  When she went back inside, she checked on things in the front of the bakery. The display cases were well-stocked, but she freshened up the self-service tea area.

  Jonathan scrolled on his phone.

  “Is your sister, wife, partner having a baby or is there illness in the family?” she asked.

  “No,” he said distractedly.

  She plucked the phone from his hand. “In that case, you can put this away.” She passed it back to him.

  “Hey, I was looking at—”

  She peered at the screen. “Computer parts. Jonathan, you’re at work. Act like it if you want to keep your job.” She drew a deep breath, satisfied she wasn’t letting anyone walk all over her or take advantage of her as so often had happened in the past— mostly Hayden and his crowd. He’d have her host events, pick up his dry cleaning, make him appointments, and had steep expectations that she’d always be available to do so.

  His friends would casually tell her to do things as well: make plans at the country club, organize dinners, and one had even brought a big box of receipts over for her to organize for tax time. Apparently, Hayden had offered up her accounting services.

  She stepped back and then sized Jonathan up.

  He shrank under her gaze. “I’m sorry, Sophie. I’ll do better. I don’t want to lose this job.”

  “Great, but don’t just tell me you’ll improve. Show me. There are crumbs on the floor by the display case, you can wash the glass on the door, or do any number of other things to keep this place running and looking inviting. While you’re working, do just that. Work. I consider myself fair and this isn’t hard labor or anything, but if you have the urge to pull out your phone, instead, ask yourself, ‘What would Sophie do?’” She smirked to lighten the mood. “Aside from misplacing my phone.”

  “Got it.” He mock saluted her.

  “And if you happen to have any extra clothing lying around at home that you wouldn’t mind donating to a good cause, you look to be about the same size...”

  “The same size as who?” he asked.

  “Tony,” she said, hoping that if he was fed, felt a bit better about himself, and let the loving mercy of Jesus into his heart, he could change his life.

  Just as she was about to return to the kitchen, a couple bustled through the door, chattering in loud Scottish accents.

  “Sophie,” Margaret said, approaching with her arms outstretched for a hug. “Your bakery is beautiful. It’s perfect. It’s, well, it’s nothing less than what I’d expect from a lass as special as you.” She slowly stepped in a circle, taking it all in and then stopped at the display case.

  Her lips quirked. What made Teagh’s mother think Sophie was so special?

  Clyde clapped her on the shoulder. “Nice seeing you again. We would’ve visited sooner like we’d said, but it turned out that my brother, the father of the bride, also arrived early for the wedding. We’ve been visiting non-stop as if we don’t already see each other a few times a week back home.”

  “Well, we did squeeze in the visit to the Natural History Museum and saw Cats.”

  �
��That was before we knew Hamish was in town.”

  “Have you seen Cats on Broadway? Oh, I think you’ll love it.”

  Sophie hadn’t even answered the question. The two were as talkative as they were the night that she’d first met them.

  “I’ll make sure Teagh gets tickets for the two of you. It’s not to be missed.”

  Sophie glanced at the photographs of dogs on the wall. Nick Furry was a sweet little guy, but she was more of a dog person.

  “She’s a dog person,” Clyde said as though reading her mind. He walked over to the arrangement of frames featuring photos of dogs. He pointed to a picture of a collie. “Me too, truth be told. Too bad they don’t have a play about dogs. I mean, they should, right?”

  Sophie and Margaret joined him in front of the photo.

  “My friend Jennifer takes photos of dogs who’re up for adoption and posts them on her social media accounts. She has about a ninety percent success rate placing them in homes by capturing how cute or majestic they are. Anyway, she’d printed a bunch of the pictures and I told her she could try to sell them here. All proceeds go back to the animals.”

  “That’s fantastic. We practically have our own animal shelter on the farm.”

  Clyde was still fixated on the photos. “I like how the images are compact. Not too showy. Just the right focus.”

  Jennifer had kept the pictures small to cut down on costs so she could mostly invest her money in the cause.

  “How smart and meaningful. Did you know that Clyde’s an amateur photographer? He takes the pictures on our blog.”

  “I’m a professional dog lover though.” The older man nodded.

  “That is a fact. We have three terriers, two collies, a mix of some sort—”

  “Ginger is feisty and yet the smallest. I think she’s part Chihuahua and definitely Teagh’s favorite.”

  Sophie raised an eyebrow. “Probably because she’s so feisty.”

  Margaret chuckled. “We do have the farm so there’s plenty of room for them.” Her voice dropped to one of what sounded like jealousy. “Then there’s Bailey, a sheltie, and the love of your life,” Margaret added.