Only Forever With A Billionaire (Only Us Billionaire Romance Book 3)

by Ellie Hall

  Amanda leaned into Wyatt and whispered, “I hope to have that someday. Someday soon.” Her breath tickled his skin in a way that made him feel like gnats swarmed his ear.

  Part of him desired what they had, but the other part knew he’d missed his opportunity and he wasn’t that kind of guy anyway. It was better to guard his heart and not get tangled up in romance.

  Will’s voice came through the mic. “I know, I know, I’m supposed to save the sappy toast for tomorrow. But aside from dessert, we do have something sweet in store for you. My soon-to-be bride, an American by upbringing, but royal by birth, brought with her a tradition that I hope you all enjoy.”

  Emma took the microphone and once again, thanked everyone for gathering. “As royal weddings go, tomorrow will be intense.” She exhaled. “I’m afraid we won’t be able to spend time with each one of you so we wanted those of you who we’re closest to, to celebrate tonight. We also want to have fun. Not to say tomorrow won’t be fun,” she paused as though searching for the right word, “but it will be busy. Now that we’ve mingled and eaten, the real party can begin. We’re going to kick it off with what Will referred to as my American contribution to the festivities. See that jar of Hershey’s Kisses?”

  Everyone clapped. “Well, it’s enormous because Will couldn’t settle for an ordinary sized jar like at most rehearsal dinners.”

  He winked and kissed her on the check.

  “I hope you all guessed how many kisses are inside.”

  Wyatt sighed. Will had forced him to and even muttered over his shoulder, “Eight hundred forty-four.” Just because he didn’t want to have to figure out how to get that many candies back to Texas, never mind that he could afford to buy enough to fill the entire building if he’d had a hankering for chocolate. So he’d guessed eight-hundred and eighty-eight.

  “We had entries for both the guys and the gals and my friend Clara went through them all and found the two with the closest guesses to the total. Ready? The winners are Wyatt Jones and…. Charlotte Wheaton.”

  The room went wild clapping. A woman with the same dark hair as Charlotte shoved her toward her brother, who clapped, probably enjoying the slight embarrassment evident on her cheeks.

  “Wyatt Jones, paging Wyatt Jones,” Will’s voice came through the mic again. “Come on up, mate. Don’t be shy.”

  “Make sure you save all the other dances for me.” Amanda pouted.

  Wyatt reluctantly rose to his feet and pressed through the crowd. That was the exact kind of situation he wanted to avoid, not that he knew what was coming other than having to face Will’s beautiful sister again.

  “Now, you might wonder, what do they win? Kisses. I mean, the candies for one, but maybe they’ll share with you if you’re lucky. They also get the first dance tonight since tomorrow that will belong to Will and me.” Emma clapped, drawing the pair together.

  “Let’s also give it up for L Ryder and his band who so generously offered to play tonight. Now, let the party begin.” Will raised his hands overhead and clapped.

  Despite the refined and noble guests mixed in with friends and family, Wyatt got the sense the next day would be extremely formal and the party that night gave the couple the chance to do things their way.

  Polite applause was exchanged for loud whooping as the band started playing a country song that Wyatt happened to love. He sighed and shot Will a combination glare and pleading look as if to ask do I have to?

  Will smirked.

  The song started slow, a tentative plucking of the strings and roll of the drums, like a coming storm that wasn’t sure if it was going to move east or west. The backbeat was steady though and Wyatt and Charlotte stepped onto the dance floor.

  She looked everywhere but at him.

  He lifted his hands to take hers in the traditional way since he doubted that she knew the two-step, not being from the US south and all.

  When their fingers touched, warmth surged through him even though her skin was cold. He led her around the dance floor and was thankful she followed because he was distracted and relied on muscle memory so he didn’t stumble.

  The pace of the song picked up as L Ryder shifted from love lost to love found. The lyrics reminded Wyatt of what Emma and Will obviously had—a relationship built on mutual love, joy, and trust. He snorted because that would never happen for him.

  “What’s so funny?” Charlotte asked, gazing at his collarbones.

  He was tempted to lift her chin to meet her eyes, but it was too risky. It was difficult enough to be dancing so close to her. If Will witnessed even the slightest hint of attraction, he’d never forgive him.

  “What’s so funny? Me, dancing to a love song.”

  “Do you not like to dance?” she asked.

  The way she said the word dance made something inside him want to do it all night long.

  When he didn’t answer she said, “Oh. It’s the love part. Well, I neither enjoy dancing nor have I had a good history with love so lucky for you, this will be quick and painless.”

  But it wasn’t quick or painless. L Ryder and the band performed the extended version of the country song with the slow ending. It was the part where the lyrics talked about love eternal and love forever. And it went on for what felt like forever, especially since they both had to move closer. The crowd clapped and hooted, urging them closer still when it was clear they kept several inches between them like during a junior high school dance.

  As the song reached its crescendo, their hips were pressed together, their chests, their arms. It was like they were magnetized, glued, and somehow adhered. It’d take industrial strength solvent to wrench them apart—like the kind Wyatt had to use on the ranch to remove tar from the railroad ties he’d used as fence posts.

  They were drawn together. Mercifully, she avoided resting her head on his chest. That would’ve undone him. He’d have probably dropped to one knee and asked her to be his wife right then and there—forget the decades-long friendship and dude code.

  Then again, Wyatt had made that mistake before. It involved a trip to Las Vegas and he’d regretted it ever since.

  Never again, he’d told himself.

  But he couldn’t resist falling into the moment as the song concluded, enjoying the way she moved, the way she felt against him, and the warmth and spark fizzing between them.

  Finally, the song ended, the crowd cheered, and everyone joined them on the dancefloor.

  Amanda swooped in even though he wanted to go back to the catering corridor and cool off.

  As one song turned into another and Amanda remained by his side, from across the room and for the first time that evening, Charlotte met his eyes. Their gazes locked. Held. Heat crept up his neck. Yes, her eyes were striking, but it was that and something else about her that had taken aim at the target in his chest and landed, hard.

  Just then, Amanda lifted onto her toes and trailed a kiss down the side of his neck. He gently pulled away and excused himself, but Charlotte was gone.

  Chapter 3

  Charlotte

  Like Wyatt had said, Charlotte was lucky. Lucky she’d seen the model-tall, extremely fit, and gorgeous woman dancing with him and the intimate way she’d leaned in as though claiming his neck as her own. She was lucky because it reminded her not to trust guys like him.

  Given that Will still worked with models as part of his campaigns for Apex Fitness, she probably was a model or trainer of some sort. She was glad the woman had intervened and taken the next dance with Wyatt because when the song had slowed further and they’d moved closer, she slowly melted, nearly giving in to the pillow of his chest. If she’d rested her head there while they were arm in arm, hand in hand, she would’ve been a goner. It was bad enough she’d imagined what it’d be like to kiss him. His commanding lips on hers. Pushing past her softness, opening her to a wild, untamed world. She drew a ragged breath at the mere thought.

  While circulating among the guests like a good sister, Charlotte couldn’t help but let h
er attention drift, searching for Wyatt in the room, longing for that moment when his eyes locked on hers. She allowed herself to meet them and felt a connection—a solid line between them. She’d only allowed herself to meet his eyes at a safe distance because she was sure she’d spontaneously combust at close range.

  It was difficult enough when they’d met in the caterer’s corridor. The moment his eyes roved over her, teased her, tempted her, she knew it was better to stare at his pecs, his biceps, the abs that were sure to be hidden under his button-down shirt. No, who was she trying to fool? Studying the ankle hem of his dress pants was the safest bet.

  Meeting his eyes meant risking him igniting the kindling inside of her that she’d worked very hard to extinguish. It was easier left alone, cold, dark.

  But when the model had kissed Wyatt’s neck, he’d cut that invisible tether, making it clear, despite the heat of his body when they’d danced, and the intensity in his gaze, that he was exactly the kind of guy she avoided even though everything else about him attracted her. His voice was rich, smoky. It reminded her of nights spent around a campfire telling stories and looking at the starry sky. While that unfamiliar country song played, it transported her to another place, a fairytale night with the two of them dancing outside and under the glow of the moon.

  A smile crept onto her face at the thought. It was just that. A fantasy. Life consisted of her, Birdie, and the two dogs. Roofus was the elderly dog she’d adopted and Rupert, Sydney’s old dog. Will and Emma had adopted him, except he stayed with Charlotte when they were out of town, which was more often than not—plus, the two old dogs enjoyed each other’s company and had quite the snoring rivalry going on.

  “I see you've met Wyatt.”

  Charlotte startled at the sound of Will’s voice.

  “Were you deep in thought?” he asked. “Dreaming about being the future Mrs. Jones?” There was laughter in his voice—probably at the ridiculous notion.

  Charlotte had been staring at Wyatt who still danced with the tall model. “No, thinking about dogs.” Her tone came out flat.

  “You may think poorly of Wyatt because we spent so much time together, but trust me, he’s changed.”

  “No, I meant Rupert and Roofus.”

  Will planted his hand on Charlotte’s shoulder and he pulled her close. “Sis, despite the saying, you can teach an old dog new tricks. Just look at me for instance.”

  She shook her head. “Rupert doesn’t sit when told and Roofus still demands to sleep on the couch.”

  “All the same. You could give it a chance.”

  “Wait a minute. Did you purposefully send both of us to get the apple rose pastries?”

  Will braced his hand on his chest. “Me? Do something like that? No. It was probably a coincidence.”

  “You told me not to get lost and fall in love with my mister.”

  “Mrs. Jones does have a nice ring to it.”

  Charlotte playfully whacked her brother.

  “Careful, I’ll soon have royal protection.”

  The comment sobered Charlotte. “Are things going to change that much?”

  Will shook his head. “Nah. We will be spending as much time at Isla Encanta as possible though. Getting electricity and internet installed while we’re here so I can work remotely. But it would make me rest better at night if you were taken care of in my absence.”

  Charlotte bristled. “I can take care of myself, William.”

  “I know you can, but I recently learned it’s okay to let other people pick up the slack, chip in, help out.”

  She shook her head.

  “And it wouldn’t be awful for Birdie to have a father figure.”

  “She had Sydney.”

  Will turned to Charlotte then, but she couldn’t meet his eyes. Not for any reason other than that he spoke the truth and reflected her sadness—but only to a degree. Will had somehow moved on, let go, and did whatever people did when they were no longer consumed by grief.

  “Letting other people into your life and finding a new best friend doesn’t diminish your love for Sydney. He would’ve wanted to see you happy in a relationship. He wanted that for me.” Will paused and then told her about a message he’d received from their guardian. “Those were his last wishes. If he’d been able to leave you a message, I guarantee he’d have said the same thing.”

  Tears pierced the corners of Charlotte’s eyes. Sydney had left her a message during some lucid moment before he’d passed. She listened to it every single night before bed to prove to herself she’d managed to get through the day. But she wasn’t able to face Sydney’s final request. At least not yet.

  Will pulled her close again. Then waved his other hand in the air.

  Wyatt sauntered over.

  Charlotte growled, “No, Will.”

  As the cowboy got closer, she hissed, “Will, why?”

  Her brother leaned in so only she could hear and he said, “I have a good feeling about this. I think he’s the one.”

  Charlotte tried to pry herself free from Will’s grip at the same time Wyatt clapped Will on the other shoulder.

  “I, uh, didn’t mean to end up with all that chocolate.”

  Charlotte didn’t have to meet his eyes to understand he meant to apologize for having to dance with Charlotte when clearly, he preferred tall blonds. Charlotte wasn’t short, but she wasn’t blond and she wasn’t wearing a skimpy dress that revealed her various assets. Something he obviously enjoyed given that he’d danced so long with the other woman.

  “I see Amanda got her talons into you. Unfortunately, I know the feeling.” Will must’ve been referring to the blond model.

  Wyatt grunted.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t intervene.”

  “You’re plenty busy tonight. I shook myself loose.” Wyatt shrugged.

  Charlotte’s ears pricked up. Perhaps he wasn’t interested in Amanda. Then she realized the comment was probably because Will had been with her years ago and Wyatt didn’t want to seem rude.

  “I’m just glad to be off the dance floor.”

  She grimaced, unable to suppress feeling insulted.

  “Well, I’m just glad I got to see the two of you step lively to L Ryder’s rendition of Forever a Love Story. Is that still your favorite song, Wyatt?”

  The cowboy scrubbed the back of his neck. “Funny that you remembered.”

  “Even though it’s been a while since we’ve hung out, I remember these things.”

  “When’d you get all sentimental?” Wyatt asked.

  Will still gripped her to his side and she’d have had to bite his hand in order to get him to release the vice-like grip. He knew all too well she wanted to dart off, find a quiet corner, and keep to herself. Why was he stopping her from doing so?

  “Life is short, mate. Too short not to let the people we care about know how we feel.”

  “Very wise, very mature.”

  Wyatt’s slow drawl kept her rooted there as surely as Will’s grip.

  “It’s been a tough lesson.” Will glanced at Charlotte and she knew he referred to Sydney.

  Wyatt clapped her brother on the upper arm. “I’m sorry about your loss. That had to be tough.”

  “Good thing I had Emma and Charlotte here. The toughest girl around and the best tour guide in the city. I bet she'd show you some of the best sites,” Will said.

  She gritted her teeth, not at all pleased by how her brother was trying to set them up or whatever it was he was doing. She’d never known him to be a matchmaker. Then again, he’d never been sentimental and that night alone, she’d seen an entirely different version of Will.

  Perhaps an old dog could be taught new tricks.

  “So, will you do it?” he said in a tone that meant the answer ought to be yes.

  “Do what?” she asked not willing to commit to anything; she was already busy enough.

  “Will you please show Wyatt around London?”

  “He’s been here before. Loads of times.”

>   Wyatt nodded in confirmation.

  “You’ve been on photo shoots, to clubs, and a few restaurants, but at the time were watching every calorie that passed your lips to keep the modeling gig. So no, you haven’t truly experienced the city.”

  “I have Birdie,” Charlotte protested only so her brother could hear.

  He leaned in close. “I happen to know that my niece loves horses. She’ll love Wyatt.”

  “William,” Charlotte ground out.

  Will turned back to his friend. “I’m going to be busy with work. With our stay at the island then all the wedding preparations I’ve fallen behind. We have a new product launch the week of the honeymoon and I have to get everything sorted before we leave next weekend.”

  “I came all this way and you're leaving?” Wyatt joked.

  “The honeymoon directly after the wedding is customary and as it is, we’re delayed a few days.”

  Wyatt’s eyes hovered over her as if in question, but she refused to meet his gaze. Perhaps he was trying to encourage her to talk her brother out of the plan.

  “Charlotte’s lived here her entire life; she could practically get a job for the tourist board.”

  She rolled her eyes.

  “Actually, when I marry the princess, I could put in a good word, Sis.”

  “I already have enough jobs, thank you, William. In fact, I have things to do this week.”

  “I happen to know you took the week off from the bank because of the wedding and Birdie’s summer camp.” Will smiled. “And you promised to clean out the townhouse.”

  He was right, but Charlotte had done it reluctantly because the bank (job number two) was cutting employees and she feared she’d be next.

  “Come on guys, do it for me, in lieu of a wedding gift.”

  “I got you—”

  Will cut Wyatt off. “I did not need another Aston Martin.”

  “It’s your favorite vintage year. And I figured you could use it to get around on the island.”

  “We ride bikes or take the Vespa.”

  “How boring.” Wyatt folded his arms across his chest.

  “You ride a horse,” Will retorted.