Newport Billionaires Box Set

by Amy DeLuca

  “And Hap’s,” Josh pointed out, oh-so-helpfully.

  Hap blinked a couple of times, then came to life. “Yeah, but I’m gonna have some crew from California crashing with me. They’ll probably fill up all my bedrooms plus the sleeper sofa.”

  Hunter shot him a grateful look. “Exactly. So, it’s settled then. She’s moving in on Monday, and production of Tech House begins as soon as Hap can pull the crew together.” He beamed at all of them. “Let’s make a TV pilot.”

  And win the girl, he added silently, smiling as he congratulated himself on his brilliant plan.

  Nine

  Friends and Housemates

  What a stupid plan.

  Kristal’s bike glided to a stop, and she set her feet on the ground, standing astride the bicycle and giving the billionaire bachelor mansion an uneasy once-over.

  The house itself was gorgeous, a brick Tudor revival. An impressive arched alcove entry was surrounded by historic stonework and topped by an intricately carved stone crest.

  On either side of it, rows of tall, leaded glass windows let in the light and featured colorful stained-glass inserts.

  Though from the outside the spectacular manor home looked like a single residence, she knew it had been divided into five condominiums with a shared central gathering space for parties, or in the case of these guys, for use as a common work area.

  They must have all been home at the moment because it looked like she’d stumbled upon a luxury car show or a billionaires’ convention with all the pricey, flashy sportscars parked in the circular front drive.

  What was I thinking?

  Her belly swam like a tide pool full of minnows. Was she really doing this? Perhaps the more important question was… could she afford not to? Inexpensive accommodations in this town were rare—free was a godsend.

  Not that Hunter was a god. He might look like one, but he was definitely human and in possession of flaws just like everyone else. She just hadn’t located his yet, unless you counted overt confidence.

  Brilliant, charming, and incredibly good looking, he must have had some negative qualities.

  No doubt living with him would reveal them in short order. Familiarity bred contempt, right?

  Very few people got better upon closer inspection—Kristal had learned that lesson well thanks to Harry.

  And skyrocketing from modest means to having billions of dollars at your disposal didn’t typically improve someone’s personality, though she had to admit, Hunter had been pretty darn charming Friday night.

  As they’d sat together in the deserted restaurant, chatting and sharing the obscenely priced wine, she hadn’t been able to prevent herself from marveling over the changes the years had made in him.

  Like a master artisan, time had layered just the right amount of weight onto his frame, turning tall and lanky into muscular and manly, and chiseling the most appealing laugh lines at the sides of his eyes and mouth.

  Kristal hadn’t consumed nearly enough wine to affect her judgement, so she could only blame her extreme attraction to him for knocking her off kilter long enough for her to say “yes” when she probably should have said “no” to his absurd suggestion.

  She’d gone home that night and promptly dreamed about the amazing kiss they’d shared—in glorious detail—and had done so every night since then.

  It was mortifying and completely inappropriate, but what could she do? Dreams were dreams.

  She banished the butterflies that insisted on parading a circle around her belly button every time she thought of that look in his eye when he’d declared Harry an idiot. What had he meant? Was he speaking in general terms (in which case she wholeheartedly agreed)?

  Or had he been referring specifically to the kissing thing?

  It doesn’t matter.

  When she got to know Hunter better, this ridiculous crush she seemed to have developed would pass, and they’d live platonically ever after—or at least for the next few weeks.

  They weren’t likely to see a ton of each other anyway—he was busy running a company. She would stay busy as well, working at Castle Hill Inn, looking for a new job, and trying to squeeze in some photography. She was still trying to help the guild’s interim director get up to speed too, so all her free time would be filled.

  Besides, they might be sharing a house, but it was a big house—seventeen thousand square feet divided into five individual units. It wasn’t like they’d be under each other’s noses all the time.

  With those fortifying thoughts empowering her, Kristal walked up to the mansion’s front door and let herself in with the key Hunter had sent over with the movers.

  At least she wasn’t nervous about seeing the other guys again—they’d all been really nice in school, the kind of boys you’d trust to date your little sister or go into your house while you were on vacation to pet-sit and water your plants.

  Hap met her in the entryway. “Kristal! So good to see you again. Wow—you’ve hardly changed.”

  “Hey Hap.” She returned his brief cheek kiss. “Great to see you too.”

  He’d changed—a lot. Like Hunter, he’d filled out and looked much more grown-up than he had back in school, though he’d always been cute.

  As a child actor, Hap Bailey’s curly hair, sparkling eyes, wide grin, and funny lines had made him a favorite on family TV as well as a “safe” outlet for little girls and pre-teens to direct their puppy love.

  By the time he’d moved to Newport and started high school, he’d developed into a quick-witted, if somewhat awkward-looking teen, gangly in that way adolescent boys raised to an art form.

  The gangly was gone. Tall and well-built, Hap had grown into a very handsome man.

  Though Kristal had heard his interests leaned more toward behind-the-camera work these days, he looked like he could easily slide into a leading role on television or in the movies.

  “Come on in. The asylum can always use another lunatic,” he joked as he led her through the warmly lit stone foyer into the main gathering area.

  It did look like a madhouse. There were people everywhere. All of Hunter’s housemates appeared to be present, stationed in various spots around the room with their laptops.

  Camera operators, grips, and production assistants moved through the space, setting up equipment, adjusting lighting, and rolling out cables.

  A stylist fussed with the messy mop atop Tucker Donnegan’s head. He appeared to have just woken up.

  He’d changed a lot since high school as well, but Kristal recognized him instantly.

  Yawning widely, he spotted her and lifted a hand in a wave. He rolled his eyes as if to say Can you believe all this? before his mouth stretched in another wide yawn.

  Reid Nolan, another classmate of theirs, wasn’t quite so laid back about the situation. He was literally growling at a makeup artist who stood in front of him, holding a powder puff in one hand and a brush in the other.

  “I just have to knock the shine off,” she protested, reaching toward him.

  “I’m going to knock someone out in a minute,” he replied, his glower making his icy blue eyes even more wintry.

  “Not you of course,” he assured her. “But no one said anything about makeup. I want a word with our glorious leader.”

  Though Reid was a few years younger, Kristal remembered him from school. He’d been a generally happy guy who’d loved computers, golf, and his high school sweetheart Mara—and not in that order. Mara had always come first in his life, which had made Kristal and her girlfriends envious. That kind of devotion was compelling.

  Today, he looked anything but happy. “Where is Hunter anyway?” he snarled.

  That was a good question. Kristal scanned the room, looking for him, but he was nowhere in sight.

  From the sofa nearest her, she heard a quiet, “Hello Kristal.”

  She turned to see Aiden Gleason, a guy who’d suffered from such crippling shyness in high school that these were literally the first words he’d ever spoken
to her.

  He might have been the biggest ugly-duckling-to-beautiful-swan story in the room.

  Tall and sculpted now, with thick, dark blond hair and clear, tanned skin, he would have caused a stampede of estrogen back in school if he’d looked anything close to this.

  “Hi Aiden. It’s so good to see you again.”

  Paul and Josh were also on that side of the room and offered their greetings. She addressed the three of them. “Thank you so much for agreeing to give me a place to stay.”

  Aiden blushed deeply—something that hadn’t changed since school. “Oh, no problem. We’re all glad you’re here.”

  “Yeah. Especially Hunter,” Josh said and giggled like a little boy.

  Paul sneezed. “Speak of the devil…”

  Kristal turned to see Hunter enter the room. He wore jeans and a polo today, somehow managing to make the casual attire look even more dashing than his button down and dress pants he’d been wearing at the restaurant.

  He didn’t appear to have noticed her yet, but every cell in her body came to full attention at his presence. He radiated energy, confidence, and a charisma that seemed to increase the wattage of the lights in the room.

  Walking over to Reid, Hunter reassured him about the makeup thing then spoke quietly with Hap before going to the long dining table. He picked up a greasy takeout bag, peered inside, and snorted in disgust.

  “Whose is this?” He held it up. “Guys—come on. Don’t eat this garbage. I made egg-white omelets and Kodiak waffles with kale-mango-chia smoothies.”

  “Sorry, Doc,” Tucker called out. “But if I’m gonna be dragged out of my bed and forced to be awake this early… there’s gonna be some bacon and cheese involved.”

  There were laughs throughout the room, and all the guys, Tucker included, got up and moved toward the kitchen.

  “He nags us like a mother, but he is a good cook.” He winked. “We like to give him a hard time.”

  “What exactly is in that shake?” Paul asked as he passed Hunter. “I want to make sure I’m not allergic.”

  “You’re cool, man,” Hunter assured him with a hand on his shoulder. “A hundred percent allergen-free.”

  When the other guys had all disappeared into the kitchen, Hunter finally turned to Kristal. Her belly flipped over as those unbelievable turquoise eyes met hers, zeroing in with a concentration that seemed to penetrate down to her soul.

  “Welcome home,” he said with a warm smile and walked toward her. He had this relaxed and easy way of moving, which probably should have set Kristal at ease.

  Instead, the closer he got, the more her nerves vibrated. By the time he reached her, she was a jittery mess.

  “Yes, well, it’s just temporary—but thanks. Where should I put my stuff?”

  “The movers have already put your boxes in your suite upstairs.” He reached for her suitcase and overnight bag. “I’ll take those. Follow me. I’ll show you the way.”

  They walked toward a staircase lined on one side with rich, walnut paneling and a highly detailed hand-carved wooden balustrade on the other. A window wall of stained glass lit the landing and reflected kaleidoscope colors onto the shiny wood flooring.

  “I’m staying in this unit?” she asked, trailing him up the stairs. “Whose is it?”

  Without turning back, he said, “It’s mine. It’s the largest and has several bedroom suites. I hope you’ll like yours.”

  Oh boy. Kristal released a long, shaky breath, willing her nerves to settle. “I’m sure it’ll be great.”

  Following him into her suite, she took in the large bed, the low dresser, and the cozy sitting area in front of floor-to-ceiling ocean-facing windows, which featured a low, padded window seat.

  The room smelled fresh, like new carpeting, and looked like it had been torn from the pages of a home decorating magazine.

  She was amazed at the size of it. Apparently, the guest rooms in this place were the size of a typical master suite. And the view was amazing. Kristal was instantly drawn to the wall of windows and walked over to look outside.

  “This is beautiful. Even nicer than the room I moved out of at home.” She turned to Hunter. “Thank you.”

  He was beaming. “I’m glad you like it. I want you to be comfortable and feel at home here. As I said, you’re welcome to stay as long as you like. Anything you need here, just let me know.”

  Something about the tone of his voice worried her. He sounded… proud, almost proprietary. Kristal really hoped he wasn’t attempting to pick up where her father had left off and take care of her.

  Though, admittedly, she wasn’t in the best financial state, she didn’t want his pity, and she certainly didn’t want Hunter to view himself as her guardian or caretaker. She would never allow herself to be in that childlike position again. She was no one’s responsibility but her own.

  To make sure Hunter understood that, she said, “Thank you, but as I said, it will only be for a few weeks—just until I can save enough money to find a place of my own.”

  His smile dimmed. “Of course. And we all appreciate you being here and helping out with the show. We should be filming most every day over the next few weeks, but don’t worry about the schedule—it’s supposed to emulate real life, so you just go to work when you need to, do your thing, and Hap can shoot your parts whenever you’re here.”

  “I still only have part-time hours at Castle Hill, but I’ll be trying to do as much photography as I can too,” Kristal said. “I’m trying to increase my output so maybe I can earn a little more that way.”

  “I’ve seen some of your shots in that gallery at Bowen’s Wharf. Beautiful stuff. You’re really talented.”

  Warmth bloomed in her chest and migrated to her cheeks. Hearing that Hunter admired her work filled her with bubbles of iridescent happiness.

  Down girl. He’s just a friend. A friend who was helping her out with a place to stay. And now he was her housemate. So, no.

  “Thank you. If only the judges at the International Photography Awards would agree with you, I wouldn’t be bumming a place to stay.”

  “Oh, you’re entering?”

  “Yes. Again. I should probably give it up, but desperation makes for amazing motivation. If I were to win my category, it would really drive up the asking price for my photos and prints.”

  “Well, good luck. And I don’t want to belabor the point, but you’re welcome as long as you need a place to stay. I’m glad you’re here—we all are.”

  Hunter paused, his eyes dropping to her mouth. Her belly clenched, and her toes curled inside her heavy socks and boots.

  “Listen… about that night at the Charity Relief Foundation Ball,” he said, “I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable…”

  Kristal jumped in before he could let her down easy. “I know—it meant nothing—absolutely nothing. I mean, it was a total accident. I’ve barely even given it a thought since then.” Unless you count every day and almost every night. “I’d nearly forgotten it happened until you mentioned it just then.”

  Hunter’s lips flattened into a thin line. “Right. An accident. Same here. We’re friends, so you don’t have to worry about me trying to make any moves on you or accidentally-on-purpose running into you leaving the shower or anything.”

  Kristal’s mouth went suddenly dry at the mental image, and she felt a twinge of disappointment.

  What was that about? She was a mess. She was going to have to watch herself around him over the next few weeks, so she didn’t embarrass either one of them.

  They were friends. They were housemates. That was it.

  “Right. Good. Good to know. Thank you for clearing that up. I’m so glad it won’t be awkward between us. Just really, really happy.” Her words trailed off at the end, but at least they’d been the right ones.

  Hunter’s mouth opened with a smack, and he began to move toward the door. “Okay then. I’ll leave you to get settled. I think Hap wants to shoot some kind of opening scene, let’s-meet-the-
team kind of thing tonight, so whenever you’re ready, come on down and we’ll… pretend to be strangers.”

  He left and shut the door behind him. Staring at it, then looking around the unfamiliar room, Kristal felt like they were.

  Ten

  Sheer Torture

  Well, at least Hunter knew where he stood with her.

  When Kristal had stepped into the house—his house—he’d felt a swell of hope and excitement that had nearly knocked him off his feet. He’d literally had to suppress a victory whoop.

  After all the years of wishing and dreaming, Kristal Bianco was living under his roof. He’d get to see her every day.

  But with a few words, she’d made it abundantly clear—she was not and had never been interested in him.

  He’d just been saving face with that “Right, same here,” comment, but Kristal was “really, really happy” they were friends.

  She’d forgotten what to him had been a mind-blowing, unforgettable kiss, said it had meant “absolutely nothing.”

  All that hope now felt like a sandcastle swamped by high tide, drifting away grain by grain until there was nothing left but a sad little blob on the shore.

  His brilliant plan to win her over was doomed right out of the gate, and now he would get to live with the humiliation and frustration. Every. Single. Day.

  Hunter went back downstairs where six pairs of eyes turned toward him.

  “Well?” Paul asked.

  “Well what?” Hunter barked back, highly irritated at his friend’s all too obvious interest in Kristal.

  “What did she say?”

  “Yeah,” Aiden said. “Does she like it here?”

  “How could she like it here?” Reid growled. “You guys drooled over her like a pack of puppies. I wouldn’t blame her if she never unpacks her suitcase and is climbing out of one of the upstairs windows to escape right now.”

  “She likes it fine,” Hunter said. “She said her room was nice.” He shot a grateful look toward Hap. “Thank the set designer, would you?”