Redeeming The Billionaire (The Sherbrookes of Newport Book 5)

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Redeeming The Billionaire (The Sherbrookes of Newport Book 5) Page 16

by Christina Tetreault


  “Say what?”

  “We’ll come home,” she repeated as she cleared her head of all the day’s activities and relaxed.

  “Me, too.” He paused, his hand stopping. “I’ve loved having you here this week.” He began work on her braid again. “This place has felt like a home rather than just a place to sleep and shower since you’ve been here.”

  Content to listen to him speak, she remained silent, her eyes closed.

  “Are you still awake?”

  At his question she opened her eyes. “Yes, just comfortable.”

  “I don’t want you to move back to your place when your brother leaves.”

  Attention caught, Addie sat up straight.

  “I want you to move in here with me.”

  Much like when he’d told her he loved her, Trent’s statement left her speechless. In all the years she’d read about him, she’d never read anything about him living with a woman. Of course that didn’t mean he hadn’t managed to keep such an arrangement under everyone’s radar. “You want me to move in?” she asked just in case she’d misheard.

  Trent nodded in response. “If you don’t like it here we can move somewhere else. We don’t have to stay in the city.”

  A unique mixture of apprehension and excitement gathered in her stomach. “No, it’s not that. I love it here.” She did love it, not only living in the city but Trent’s apartment. “It’s just we haven’t been together that long.”

  “So what? I love you and want you with me. Time won’t change that for me.” A worried look passed over his face but disappeared before she could even blink. “Will it change anything for you?” The confident voice she’d come to know faltered.

  “No, and if you’re sure, I’d love to move in here with you. I’ll have to rent my place or something, but that doesn’t bother me.”

  At her response, Trent kissed her. A tender kiss filled with love rather than a hungry kiss like he’d greeted her with. “Good. Why don’t we head to bed?” Before she could agree or protest, he stood with her in his arms and carried up to his room.

  ***

  Even with his body sated and Addie next to him sound asleep, Trent remained awake. Fed up with staring at the ceiling, he climbed out of bed and pulled on pair of workout shorts. After a quick stop to grab a container of ice cream from the freezer, he parked his butt in front of the television. A quick scan through his movie collection brought up his favorite Mel Brooks movie, History of the World Part I, a ridiculous over-the-top comedy that required little brain power to follow along. More bored than hungry, Trent dug into the container of mint chocolate chip as the movie started.

  By the time the movie hit the Spanish Inquisition segment, he’d finished the container of ice cream and realized he’d spaced out so much during the movie, he’d missed some of his favorite scenes. As the monks on the screen did their song and dance routine, he thought back to his meeting with Marty that morning. As planned, they’d met to discuss developments with his likely opponents. So far Daniel Potter still remained his main competition. Rumors that Harry Thatcher planned to run turned out to be just that, rumors. However, Marty received confirmation that Shelly Runnel intended to run as a Tea Party candidate for the seat in Washington.

  His discussion with Marty about his competition wasn’t what kept him awake now. Although pleased that Addie had quit the bakery, Marty had once again discussed their timetable. He wanted their relationship further solidified by the New Year at the latest.

  The analytical part of him understood his advisor’s position, but the human side of him rebelled every time Marty mentioned Addie’s name. Sure, he’d gone into the relationship because Marty insisted she was his ticket into the Senate. Now though, he saw her as the woman he loved. The one he wanted to come home to every night and grow old with. Except in Marty’s presence, he never considered the impact she may or may not have on his political career.

  Ever since his meeting, when he’d agreed to consider a proposal before Christmas, his conscience had haunted him telling him to come clean with Addie about why he’d first asked her out. The devil in him insisted he keep his mouth shut. If she ever found out, who knew how she would react? And besides, what difference did it matter now? He loved her regardless of his original reasons. Which led him to another thought. If he loved her and planned to spend the rest of his life with her, why not just propose soon like Marty wanted? He intended to do it at some point anyway. She’d already agreed to move in with him. If he did it in, say, a month, it would get Marty off his ass and, if the advisor was correct, increase his chances in the election.

  As the French King, played by Mel Brooks himself, interacted with the other characters on the screen, Trent’s mind went back and forth. One minute positive they should stick to the original timetable they’d established for his relationship with Addie, and the next, prepared to hit the first open jewelry store he found and buy the biggest diamond engagement ring he could find.

  “Trent?” Addie called from the doorway. “Are you okay?” Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she shuffled into the room, her hair a mess from sleep and her old Suffolk University nightshirt ending just above her knees.

  “Yeah, just wanted a little snack.”

  Addie looked at the empty ice cream container on the coffee table before sitting down next to him. As if programmed to do so, he placed an arm over her shoulders and pulled her into his side. “A little snack? I just picked that ice cream up yesterday.”

  “I guess I was hungrier than I thought. On our way home Sunday I’ll buy you more.” Mint chocolate chip was one of her favorites and a flavor he’d never had until she brought it home to help soothe her sore throat. “I’m ready to go back to bed now. You?”

  She nodded. “I only got up to look for you.”

  ***

  Saturday he didn’t care if he drew attention to them or not. So rather than take the more subdued Mercedes convertible he’d used since meeting Addie, he hit the road behind the wheel of his favorite new play toy, a Veyron Bugatti. He’d picked up the black Veyron with blood-red interior that spring, but as of late it had spent more time parked in the garage than on the road in an effort to make Addie more comfortable around him.

  “Now this is more like what I expected you to drive,” Addie said from the passenger seat as they sped down the highway. “Are you sure you want me drinking in here?”

  Her statement brought to mind the comment she’d made about his car the first time he’d picked her up. “I am. Don’t worry about it.” He took a sip from his own travel mug. “So which do you like better? This or the Mercedes?”

  “They’re both okay,” she answered, not sounding impressed with either.

  Trent pulled his eyes away from the road long enough to shoot her a look. “Just okay? You don’t say that a Veyron Bugatti is just okay. What kind of a car buff are you anyway?” One evening weeks earlier they’d had an in-depth conversation regarding sports cars through the years. She’d told him she’d learned all about them from her father and brothers, admitting she could not only change her own tire but also make various minor repairs to her own car if the need arose.

  “Don’t get me wrong. They’re both great cars, but I’ll take a 1957 Corvette convertible with the Ramjet Fuel Injection system first any day.”

  Trent looked over at her again. “Seriously? Cars today could do circles around that.”

  Addie lowered her travel mug. “Maybe, but it still managed zero to sixty in 5.7 seconds. Not to mention, it is gorgeous.”

  “And if you were to get one of those what color would it be?”

  She didn’t hesitate to answer. “Red, of course. It shouldn’t be in any other color.”

  Trent laughed at her adamant reply. “They did make it in other colors, you know. Some people even liked them.”

  “They shouldn’t have. Who ever thought that was a good idea must have been color blind.”

  He laughed again. “Okay, on that note let’s talk about somethi
ng else.” He switched lanes when the car in front of them slowed down. “My family might bombard you with questions. They’re not used to me bringing people to family gatherings like this. Just relax and enjoy yourself.”

  “I thought it was just going to be us and your cousin. I didn’t know your whole family would be there.” The lighthearted tone she’d used before disappeared.

  “Not my whole family, but Dylan mentioned my cousin Jake and his wife are already there. My brother Derek and my cousin Courtney promised to stop in today, and my cousin Curt is coming tonight. My cousin Sara and her fiancée are flying in tomorrow, but we might not see them depending on when we leave. My father and stepmother visited yesterday and planned to leave this morning so we’ll most likely miss them.”

  “Wow, that’s a lot of people. For some reason I didn’t think your family was that close.”

  “What made you think that?” The media printed a lot about the individuals in his family, but they never mentioned family squabbles.

  From the corner of his eye he caught her shrug. “I don’t know. It always seems like wealthy families are bickering amongst themselves, at least according to the magazines at the grocery store. I just assumed your family was the same way.”

  Since the only information she had to go on came from the media, he couldn’t fault her. “My family isn’t perfect, but we’re tight. No matter what, we stick together. Don’t worry, they’ll love you.”

  “Maybe you better tell me a little more about your family before I meet them. The Cliff Notes version will do for now.”

  “Who would you like me to start with?”

  Addie appeared to consider his question. “Maybe with your cousin, Courtney. I read a lot about your cousin Callie during the President’s campaign, and Jake appeared in the media a lot before he married. I don’t know much about Courtney.”

  It was true. Over the years he and Jake had kept the media buzzing enough that his cousin had managed to fly somewhat, although not completely, under the radar.

  “Courtney is four years younger than me. Her mom is my father’s sister, Marilyn. For the past year she has worked with my aunt at The Helping Hands Foundation, but I don’t think she loves it there.” Trent paused. What else might she like to know? “She has an older brother Scott and a younger sister Juliette. She spent a year and half living in Denmark and speaks Danish fluently. She’s also fluent in Spanish and French.”

  “Wow. I know a little Italian, but I’m not even close to fluent.”

  “Courtney has always been great with languages. She picks them up quicker than anyone I know.”

  “Now what about your brother Derek? I know he is younger than you,” Addie said.

  During the rest of the two and half hour ride from Providence to Greenwich, Connecticut, Trent told Addie more about the individuals she’d meet that weekend, concluding with information about his brothers, Gray and Alec, and his sister, Allison, who wouldn’t be there.

  Chapter 14

  Since his cousin and her husband built the estate in Connecticut he’d visited just once. For the most part, Callie and Dylan still spent most of their time in New York City where the headquarters for Sherbrooke Enterprises was located. According to Dylan, however, they’d started to stay at the estate more and more as of late. While that meant more of a commute for him every day, Dylan said neither he nor Callie wanted the baby to grow up in the city. Trent could understand their sentiments. If and when he had children he wasn’t sure he’d want them spending all their time in the city either. While the city, especially one like New York, provided a lot in terms of culture and activities, there was something nice about having acres and acres of land as your own personal playground. When the time came, he’d have to give the matter some serious consideration.

  “Did they design this house themselves?” Addie asked as they waited for someone to open the front door.

  They’d parked inside the large detached garage designed for visitors. From the moment they’d stepped from the car, he’d sensed Addie’s designer’s brain kick in. She’d paused to admire the interior and exterior of the garage as well as the flower gardens they passed as they followed the walkway to the house.

  “Yes. Callie joked it took them longer to design it than it took for the actual construction. To some extent they based it on Dylan’s father’s estate in England.”

  A woman, perhaps his stepmother’s age, dressed in black slacks and a white top, answered the door not long after they rang the bell. “Good morning, Mr. Sherbrooke,” she said in a pleasant voice before smiling in Addie’s direction. “Ms. Raimono, please come in.”

  The same woman had answered the door on his previous visit, but he had no idea of her name. His father and uncles would be disappointed in him. They all made it a point to remember the names of everyone that worked within the family homes.

  “Please follow me. Mr. Talbot is in the back living room.” The woman closed the door, then started down a hallway, her sensible black shoes silent on the gleaming floors.

  “You weren’t kidding when you said it was modeled after an English estate,” Addie whispered into his ear as they walked. “I feel like I’ve just walked onto a PBS set.”

  Trent laughed. “I’ll have to tell Dylan you said that.”

  Addie stopped and released his hand. “Don’t you dare. He may take it the wrong way.” Her glare, meant to reinforce her words, only made him laugh harder. “I mean it, Trent.”

  He took her face in his hands and kissed her forehead. “I promise, not a word. I was joking anyway.”

  “No you weren’t. I know you better than that by now.” She gave him a halfhearted smile. “I do love it in here. It’s just not what I expected.”

  “You’re right, I wasn’t joking. But if it’s that important I won’t say a thing.” He took her hand so they could catch up to the older woman again. “What did you expect?”

  “Something more, I don’t know, modern I guess is the right word. Maybe more along the lines of your apartment.”

  The woman in front of them turned down another hallway. “Their place in New York is more like my apartment. Dylan bought it before he met Callie. I think he likes it more than she does. I know they remodeled the apartment recently.”

  When they reached the large entryway, the woman who greeted them stopped just inside. “Mr. Sherbrooke and Ms. Raimono have arrived, Mr. Talbot. Does anyone require anything before I leave?”

  Trent passed into the large room. Despite its size, it’d been laid out and furnished in such a way to give it a comfy and intimate atmosphere. Next to him, Addie’s hand gripped his a smidge tighter.

  “We’re fine, Ester. Thank you. Enjoy your day off,” Dylan answered. Seated in an arm chair, he had his long legs stretched out and a baby dressed in some kind of blue one-piece sleep outfit resting with his head on Dylan’s chest. On the floor by his feet Lucky, Callie’s dog, sat.

  With a nod, Ester smiled. “Thank you, Mr. Talbot. Cora is in the kitchen if you require anything. I will see you tomorrow.”

  When Ester exited leaving the family alone, Trent crossed to his long-time friend, Addie’s hand still attached to his. The last newborn he could recall seeing was his youngest brother Alec, and that had been a long time ago. He’d forgotten how tiny newborns were. “Congratulations, again.” Trent extended his hand, his eyes still glued to the tiny infant. His brain found it difficult to process the sight of the baby on the chest of the once-confirmed bachelor. Yet, the now happily married husband and new father looked about ready to explode with pride.

  Dylan shook with his right hand, his left never leaving the baby’s back. “Thank you. I’m glad you could both make it.” Dylan looked toward Addie. “It’s nice to meet you, Addison. Please forgive me for not getting up.” Always the proper English gentleman, Trent had never seen Dylan not stand to introduce himself to anyone. “My wife should be down soon.”

  Addie extended her hand in Dylan’s direction. “Please call me Addie, and
I understand. Your son is beautiful.”

  Although he doubted it possible, the pride and happiness on Dylan’s face increased at Addie’s words.

  “Thank you. I would offer to let you hold him, but he just fell back asleep.”

  “Don’t feel bad. I’ve barely gotten a glimpse of my nephew since I got here,” Jake said from the sofa where he sat. “If he’s not eating or getting a diaper change, he’s attached to Dylan.”

  Not about to get in the middle of friendly family squabble today, Trent touched Addie’s elbow and led her to the sofa. “Addie, my cousin Jake. And over there is my brother Derek.” He nodded in his brother’s direction as he sat. “Where are Charlie and Courtney?”

  “Charlie went upstairs with Callie in case she needed any help getting in and out of the shower,” Jake answered referring first to his wife. “Courtney went to answer a phone call from a friend.”

  “Allison called. She’ll be here around six or so tonight,” Derek added, referring to his twin sister. “Dylan’s father decided to stay a few more days, too.”

  Trent had only met his friend’s father once, the day Callie and Dylan married. The Viscount spent most of his time in England.

  “I doubt you’d get him to admit it, but I don’t think two days with his first grandson were enough,” Jake added.

  “Are you sure Callie’s up for all these guests? Addie and I can head home and come back next weekend.”

  “Oh, no. You’re not leaving before I get a chance to have a nice, long conversation with Addie, just like you and Charlie had at Cliff House. I’ll need some time to share some embarrassing stories about you, and next weekend we have Maureen’s wedding to attend so I can’t come back and do that.”

  Trent held back his reaction. He’d told his cousin’s wife a few funny stories about Jake in private. He’d also shared a few more than embarrassing tales his cousin would’ve rather kept a secret. “You’ll have to get her alone first and that’s not happening.”

  Jake looked at Derek, who nodded, and then back at him. “Trust me, that won’t be a problem. I have reinforcements.”

 

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