Goldie And The Billionaire Bear (Once Upon A Billionaire Book 1)

by Catelyn Meadows

  She had a hard time opening the container, and Adrian lifted his hand, pushing against her as he did so. With his help to measure the correct amount and scrape it evenly off the top, they turned to pour the collected sugar into the bowl—and collided.

  Sugar splattered across Adrian’s chest and sprinkled Goldie’s nose. The two of them laughed, and after he swept a bit of sugary dust from his shoulder, he didn’t pull away from her. Instead, his arm wove its way around, securing her to him.

  “Maybe this was a bad idea,” she said.

  “This is the best idea you’ve ever had.”

  Her eyes narrowed. She couldn’t think, being held by him as she was. “How do you know the sum total of my ideas?” she asked playfully.

  “Intuition, remember?” He leaned in, tipping his head closer. His gaze tripped to her mouth, intensifying her pulse to sprinting level. They hadn’t been this close since their moment in the barn and while now they were in a kitchen with a vaulted ceiling, with bright lights gleaming around them, she felt no less secluded. She was here, alone with him. And this may or may not have turned out exactly as she’d hoped.

  “You planned this, didn’t you?” he said.

  “Of course I did. I told you we’d be baking.”

  “Not that.” His arm tightened around her. “This.” He lowered his head to press his lips to hers.

  Sugary kisses were the best kind. She tasted bits of it on his lips, adding hints of sweetness. It definitely wasn’t one-handed. With his arm securely around her, his other hand stroked its way to her jaw as he deepened the kiss, sending her mind onto another plane completely, a plane where only the two of them existed or would ever exist, where she wanted to do exactly this, be alone with him, feel him pressed against her, taste him, for the rest of her life.

  She allowed herself to melt into him, weaving her dough-free hand into his hair. Who needed dessert when Adrian Bear was around?

  On the counter, Goldie’s phone chimed. It wasn’t the sound of a text or a call. It was the honking notification of an email.

  Only one thing could have wrenched her away from Adrian, and it was that sound.

  “Gabby?” Adrian’s voice was tentative. “There’s something I wanted to tell you, and I suppose now is as good a time as any. Rita found your aunt…”

  Goldie couldn’t think about anything he was saying. She cleaned off her hands and swiped against her screen. Her heart banged at the sight of the little red one over her email icon. She tapped on it and gaped at the name she’d been waiting to see for over a week now.

  Bethany Harold.

  She held the phone to her chest. This was everything. This meant she wasn’t crazy, and this trip hadn’t been for nothing.

  “I’m sorry, Adrian, I have to go. I’ll help you clean this up, but she finally contacted me, and I’m—” She hesitated. “I’m sorry to cut our evening short.

  “Go ahead, Gabby. I’ve got this.” He was already untying his apron.

  “What did you call me?”

  His lip quirked. Flecks of sugar dusted his cheek. “Your name, isn’t it?”

  Her name. Her real name.

  She wanted to go to him. To ignore the nagging call of her email, to pick up where they’d left off, but this was why she’d come all this way. She’d tried so many times to contact Aunt Bethany, and now that she’d replied, Goldie had to respond.

  Still, she couldn’t just leave him. “Where’s your broom?”

  Adrian snared her by the elbow. Taking a moment, he pressed a tender kiss first to her temple and then her mouth. “I mean it. I’ve got this. Go do what you need to do.”

  “Thank you,” she said, turning and heading back outside.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  ADRIAN SWEPT SUGAR INTO AN increasing pile in the center of the kitchen. The magic of the evening hadn’t lasted long, and yet it was still long enough to let him know he was falling for her. He couldn’t erase the expression on her face when she realized he’d called her by her name.

  He wished he could be there with her when she met her aunt. When she found out the truth. Part of him wished he’d spoken up sooner and confessed what he’d learned, but then again, wouldn’t it be better for her to hear it from its source?

  The door opened, and his mom and Jordan entered. Jordan tromped straight to his room without a word of greeting, but Mrs. Bear sauntered in and rested her hands on the back of a barstool.

  “What’s this mess?”

  Adrian decided the truth was best. “Goldie wanted to bake something for you, but she got some news and needed to leave unexpectedly.”

  “Leave? As in…?”

  “As in she’ll be back to her room later, I’m sure.” He hoped so. Part of him worried he’d never see her again, but she wouldn’t take off and head home without saying goodbye, would she?

  His mom removed her jacket and draped it on the stool, her mouth in its usual downturned position.

  “You’re getting in over your head with her, Adrian. For some reason, I don’t believe you’ve known her very long.”

  Gabby would be leaving. He realized he didn’t want her to be his girlfriend for the week. He wanted this—whatever this was between them—to last longer than that. Which meant he had to come clean. It was time he told the truth.

  “We’re not really dating. I told you that because you wouldn’t believe she was actually with me, and then Goldie agreed to be my girlfriend when I asked her to.”

  “I knew it,” his mom said. “I knew you couldn’t possibly have known her that long. You two are unbelievable. Be careful about women like her, women who want you to tell lies and expect free hotel rooms.”

  “She’s a school teacher, Mom. She came out here to find her aunt. She’s not a gold-digger.” He’d had plenty of those. Those women were drawn to him for his money, begged him to buy them things, dragged him to events and were beyond eager to be seen in the public eye. Gabby did exactly none of those things. From the start, she’d made it clear she had no interest in his fortune. He had to remind himself she probably had no idea exactly how rich he actually was.

  Maybe it was better that way, though. Maybe it would be better to let this spring fling be nothing more than a fling. To him, however, it wasn’t just a casual rendezvous. He hoped it wasn’t for her, either.

  “She needs to go. She’s a distraction.”

  He stopped sweeping and gripped the broom. “From what, exactly? She’s the reason I stayed, Mom. I like her. I know you want something to happen with Danica. I know she’s been your favorite, and I sometimes feel you like her more than you like me,” he said with a laugh. “But that’s not going to happen. Danica and I had our shot. We tried. We weren’t a good fit.”

  “Danica seems to think otherwise.”

  “So that means I should just give up my reservations about her? That’s not how it works.”

  “What exactly is it that bothers you so much about her?” his mom asked. She tossed the empty, curling biscuit can in the garbage and dusted her hands as if it’d been riddled with disease.

  “I was ready to move forward with her. I was ready to marry her when I was presented with a business opportunity. An opportunity that required me to move to Chicago to get things running.”

  “You could have done that from here.”

  He inclined his head. “I could have, but not as easily. I needed to be where my associates were. It was the chance of a lifetime, and Danica wouldn’t support me in that. I would have for her. When I realized she wouldn’t do the same for me, I started to get the feeling she’d be that way more and more as our relationship deepened, so I ended it before it could get there.”

  His mom was silent for a moment. “You felt she didn’t support you.”

  “She didn’t. I need a woman who’s on my team.”

  His mom didn’t argue, and that was a first for her. Instead, she settled herself on a barstool. Her demeanor was accepting rather than defensive. “And this Goldie person? You think
she can be your cheerleader? You hardly know her.”

  Adrian dusted more sugar from his shirt, not fighting back the smile that curved his lips upward at the sight. At the thought of his answer, which came to his mind immediately. “She’s the most down-to-earth person I’ve ever met. She’s humble, which I love. Easy to talk to, fun to be around. She makes me feel like I’m the most important man she’s ever met.” Not to mention how she made him feel physically. Strong, attractive, and ready to conquer the world just for her. When she’d kissed him in the barn, his entire world had turned upside down and continued to do so every time she was around. He wasn’t ready to let that go.

  He couldn’t believe his mom was listening to him about this. She was hearing him, really hearing him, for what was probably the first time in his life. Maybe his dad had been one of the reasons why his mom couldn’t ever find it in herself to support Adrian. Because his father never had.

  “I think I understand,” she said. She stared at her clasped hands before lifting her eyes to his.

  Adrian swallowed. “I also think you should give Gabby a chance.”

  She shook her head slightly. “Gabby? I thought her name was Goldie.”

  “Goldie is a nickname, I’ve come to find out. I want to call her by her real name. Gabrielle.”

  “Pretty name,” his mom said without reservation. Her tone almost had an apologetic ring to it.

  “I thought so, too.”

  Silence collected between them. Adrian tapped the dustpan over the garbage can, hearing the sugar tinkle against the rest of the disposed items. He sifted through the remaining contents in Gabby’s grocery bag, placing a few in the fridge and leaving others on the countertop.

  His mom collected a long, slow breath and allowed it to exhale. “Adrian? She’s not the only person I need to remedy things with. There’s something you should know.”

  Adrian returned the dustpan to its place in the closet and faced her. Something in her tone caused his stomach to clench.

  “What is it?”

  Holding an apologetic grimace, she rose from the barstool and crossed the kitchen to him. She placed a hand on his forearm. “You’re sure you don’t want anything more to do with Danica?”

  “I’m sure.”

  “Then I need to ask your forgiveness. I know where your father’s lockbox is.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  GOLDIE HALF-EXPECTED THE SAME RESPONSE she’d gotten the other dozen times she and Adrian had dropped by. To ring the doorbell, wait in agony, only to have no one respond and to return to her truck. This time, though, footsteps responded. This time the sound of a lock being turned erupted like a rocket blast and shot her pulse into the sky with it.

  A blonde woman stood in the open doorway, her blue eyes welcoming and repentant all at once. Her hair wasn’t just blonde. It was golden. Like Goldie’s.

  “Hello, Goldie,” she said. “That’s what your family calls you, isn’t it?”

  Goldie examined her aunt’s face, attempting to catalog similarities. The shape of her mouth, her cheekbones, her eyebrows. She found traces of resemblance in the line of Bethany’s hair and the tilt of her almond eyes. They were like Goldie’s mothers. Like her own.

  She lifted her chin. “You knew I was in town.”

  Her smile fell. “I did.”

  “Why didn’t you contact me? Why didn’t you let me know?”

  Bethany pushed the screen door open and held it. “Please, come in. I’ll explain everything, but we’ll be more comfortable sitting down inside.”

  The house was dated. Clean, but old. Wood paneling lined the walls, rendering the living room and kitchen darker than they might have been otherwise. The faint smell of an animal also coated the air, making Goldie wonder if it was a dog or a cat her aunt owned.

  A gray, fluffy cat made its appearance, strutting haughtily over to rub itself along the couch.

  “Why don’t we go into the kitchen?” Bethany suggested with a smile and a hand in that direction.

  Stepping like she was on eggshells, Goldie moved forward toward a squat table situated beneath a lamp made of different colored glass. A plate of cookies sat at its center, along with what appeared to be a photo album. Goldie slipped into a spindle-backed chair.

  Bethany took a seat across from her and slid the plate in her direction, but Goldie declined. She sat in a puddle of awkwardness and questions and decided to get right to it.

  “Why haven’t I known you?”

  Bethany stared at the rejected refreshments, interlocking her hands before her. “Your mom wanted it that way.”

  “You’re sisters?” Again, she inspected her, noticing more similarities in their appearances. The shape of their brows, the line of their lips and cheeks. Goldie had to admit, Aunt Bethany’s countenance was a bit more pleasant than her mother’s was.

  “We are,” Bethany said. “It’s why I had this ready for you. I thought you might want to see some pictures.”

  “Proof, you mean,” Goldie said, but unlike the cookies, she didn’t decline the book when it was presented to her. Bethany flipped to stained photographs displaying two young girls, one with brown hair, one with blonde, laughing in dress-up clothes, blowing bubbles, running through a sprinkler.

  “Jacey would hate me for this, but you’ve been on my mind for years, Gabrielle, and I needed to tell you the truth.”

  Goldie’s frame turned to ice. “What truth?”

  Bethany flipped the page of the photo album. There were fewer pictures of her mother in here. Instead, many images of a teenaged Bethany with friends appeared, Bethany at school, Bethany with a good-looking young man. Then one image captured Goldie’s attention.

  Bethany was pregnant, with one hand resting on her stomach. She looked far too young for that kind of responsibility.

  “You had a baby?”

  The air between them constricted. “I did. See? There she is.” She pointed to a picture of a pretty baby.

  Suspicion crept into the crevices between Goldie’s bones. It was the same picture she’d seen in her own baby album back home in Wisconsin.

  “This makes no sense. I’ve seen all these before.”

  “I was in no shape to be a mother. I was barely seventeen, and my boyfriend left town once I told him the news. Jacey had been married for a few years by that time. She and Jared had been trying for a while to have a baby but were struggling with infertility. So she offered to care for my baby and raise her—raise you—as their own.”

  Goldie’s vision blanked. Bethany couldn’t be saying what she thought she was. It couldn’t be true. “Are you saying you’re my—mother—my birth mother?”

  Bethany’s eyes were glistening with tears. “I didn’t want to tell you like this. For years I wanted to come to you, but Jacey told me to stay away.”

  Goldie pushed the album away from her. Disbelief rattled through her like a freshly launched pinball. “Why now?” she managed. “Why are you telling me this now? It’s been twenty-seven years.”

  “Your birth father and I have been in contact with one another over the years, and word reached me last month that he’d died in a car accident.”

  Goldie gasped. “Oh my goodness.”

  “I realized how short life is. He had so many regrets, Gabrielle, about you. He regretted not wanting to try and make things work, to try and be the father you needed. He wanted to contact you sooner, but I held him off. I told him it wasn’t time, and he respected that. And now he’s gone.”

  A tear slid down Bethany’s cheek, and her lower lip trembled.

  “I wanted to make things right with you. And with my sister,” she finished.

  Goldie couldn’t breathe. She’d had a different father. A different mother. And her own mother had never told her?

  Did everyone lie? Adrian had been so quick to scheme up his fake girlfriend proposition, never thinking twice about it. Her parents had known she wasn’t really theirs and they’d pretended all her life. She kept it together, though ins
ide she was kicking and screaming like a child.

  “I’ve tried repairing the breach between Jacey and me, but she always insisted I stay away, that you never needed to know. She said it would rattle you too much. But I don’t like secrets, Gabrielle.”

  “Neither do I,” Goldie managed.

  “I’ve wanted to fix things between us for so long. Her pride would never let her welcome me in, not as long as you were in the dark about all of this. But now that you know, maybe she’ll let me talk to her again. She’ll—”

  Goldie was speechless. She could well believe it of her—well, of Jacey Bybanks—to keep her own sister half a country away because of pride.

  Bethany rose. “I’m sorry to do it like this. I would have preferred a much different approach, where both of your parents were on board.”

  “And the reason you weren’t here when I got to town? I emailed you several times. I stopped by every day.”

  Bethany had the decency to lower her head. “Your mom contacted me. She told me to ignore your emails and that you’d come back home if I did. I didn’t want to, I replied to the first one you sent. But I was working with the fundraiser the day you arrived, and then I was cowardly after that. I was scared.”

  Goldie bit back a scoff. “Scared?” Of her?

  “I know it sounds silly, but this isn’t exactly an easy thing for me. I loved you. I wanted you. I couldn’t keep you, and I’ve thought about you every day for years, wishing I could send you cards on your birthdays or call you to see how your life was turning out. I guess I was scared I’d mess this up, too.”

  She was wringing her hands and staring at Goldie with pleading in her eyes. Goldie couldn’t process it all. In all the times she’d wondered why her aunt had been ostracized, why her aunt had asked her to travel across the country to see her, she never would have imagined this.

  “I need to go,” Goldie said, rising. “I need to think this over.”

  Bethany gripped the back of the chair. Her eyes were wide, her face pale. “I understand.”