The Bastard Billionaire

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The Bastard Billionaire Page 26

by Jessica Lemmon


  “I’ve been too careful,” Alex repeated. “I gave you boys a good example of how to lead.” He tipped his chin at Reese. “Of how to grab hold of life and let nothing hold you back.” He nodded at Tag. “Of serving your country and never letting anything stand in your way.” He gave Eli a warm smile. “What I haven’t given you is a good example of a man who gives his heart. Rhona pointed out the other day—”

  “Respectfully,” she interjected.

  “Always respectfully,” Alex said to her, his smile warming. “She mentioned that you boys were hurtling your own challenges when it came to love. And how it makes sense because we all lost someone we loved very much. The loss of your mother makes it more frightening to put ourselves on the line, our hearts on the line. Knowing that love could be snatched from you at any moment is a terrifying reality. For years, I closed myself off from the possibility of love. I was protecting my family—or so I thought. In reality, I believe I was protecting myself. But once you find the woman who challenges you, the one who is willing to stick around even though you’re a caveman…”

  Marina and Rachel cracked smiles. Rhona laughed.

  “That’s the one you trust with your heart,” Alex said. “Even if it means getting hurt again. Even if it means the future is devastating. Because she’s worth it. Any heartache you are trying to save yourself from pales in comparison to the love of a woman who gives you her entire self.”

  No one said a word. Wisdom twinkled in Alex’s eyes, his gaze zeroed in on Eli. Reese, predictably, was the first to break the silence.

  “It’s true.”

  Six pairs of stunned eyes snapped to the oldest Crane brother.

  Reese wrapped his arm around Marina. “Trying to prevent disaster is no way to live life.”

  “Hear, hear,” Tag said, raising his beer.

  “So?” Rachel leaned closer to Alex, her smile popping her dimples. “Are you two getting married?”

  “I don’t know. I haven’t had the courage to ask her yet. I’d hate to steal your thunder.” Alex thumbed Rachel’s chin.

  “There’s enough thunder for all of us, don’t you think?” Rachel asked.

  After a brief pause, Alex nodded. “You’re right.” He turned to Rhona, who wore a slightly dazed but excited expression. “What do you say? Would you like to marry a sixtysomething, retired hotel magnate with three grown boys and possibly grandkids on the way?”

  “Alex.” Rhona gave him a watery smile. “Do you even have to ask?”

  Both hands on his face, she stroked his goatee, then pulled his mouth to hers. The table erupted in cheers, and Eli found himself clapping, a reluctant smile on his own face.

  Everything his father had said Eli knew in his gut, and he didn’t take it for granted when the man who had been his mentor his entire life spelled it out. Nothing solidified Eli’s fucking up more than this moment right now.

  “So, it’s just me,” Eli called over the cheers and good wishes. A quick glance around the table confirmed smiles falling left and right. “My timing sucks for that epiphany. I’m sorry. I just wanted to say you’re all smarter than I am.” He pushed away from the table, the chair scraping from rug to floor. “A hell of a lot smarter.”

  Instead of heading for his bedroom, he walked to the metal set of stairs leading to the loft. The stairs he’d avoided climbing since he came home. Because there was no sense in trying to reclaim who he once was. That was bullshit—like nearly every other belief he’d tried to hang on to since he was discharged. He took each step, rickety metal whining, bracing his upper arms on the railing as he hauled himself up.

  When he reached the top, out of breath and sweating a little, he went to the door he hadn’t opened since he’d been back home. Time to merge the old him with the new one. God knew they could learn a thing or two from each other.

  He flipped the dead bolt and pushed the bar on the door, exiting to the roof. Outside, he shook the leaves off a rusted lawn chair and plopped onto the seat. The air was freezing up here. He crossed his arms tightly as the breeze cooled the damp sweat on his body. Wind blew his hair and chilled his bare face, having a sobering effect.

  The city lights were bright, interspersed with porch lights from houses and the glowing sign in front of the cathedral across the street. Somewhere in the city, Isa was without him and doing better for it. That’s what he’d tried to make himself believe each day when he’d scrolled back through their texts in his phone. There weren’t many. But it hurt to remember how for one fragile moment, he’d had her in the palm of his hand…

  Then crushed her without meaning to.

  Predictably, the door opened behind him, then shut. He’d expected one of his well-meaning family members to fetch him. The question was, who had drawn the short straw? Tag? Reese? One of the girls?

  “You’ve turned brooding into an art.”

  Dad.

  Of course.

  “We each have our talents,” Eli said.

  “Being a horse’s ass seems to be yours.”

  Eli frowned over his shoulder. His father, weathered skin and white hair, goatee and checkered shirt tucked into dark jeans, looked younger than his sixtysomething years. He was a virile, capable man—an amazing single father. The best Eli could have asked for. And now he was engaged to be married. Because he wasn’t a massive coward.

  “Why’d you retire, anyway?” Eli asked as Alex located another dilapidated lawn chair that creaked in protest when he opened it and sat down. “This is your fault. If you’d have stayed CEO, Reese would still be COO, and I would be—”

  “You’d be what?” Alex interrupted. “You’d be sitting in your warehouse alone and brooding? You never would have met Isabella Sawyer? Yes, your brothers told me about her.” A breeze feathered the hair that fell over his forehead. “You’re a man who’s lost a lot, Eli. Your friends, your leg, your career as a Marine.”

  Eli gritted his teeth, feeling the pain of those losses like a series of punches to the stomach.

  “Your mom,” Alex added.

  That one was more like a punch to the kidney.

  “Like you said, we all lost her,” Eli said.

  “Yes, but you were the one who held on longer than you should have.”

  “You’re one to talk.” Anger vibrated down Eli’s arms. “You worked and kept your head down for years. Hell, you didn’t even date. If it hadn’t been for Rhona working with you, you may never have…”

  Eli quieted. His father’s story lined up pretty damn closely with his own.

  “Isabella busted through your defenses because she was there every day,” Alex stated. “She wiggled her way into your arms and then into your heart.”

  She had.

  “You’re the one keeping yourself from her. Why?”

  “She loves me,” Eli said, the pain of that admission worse than anything else. It was so fresh. The wound of losing her hadn’t covered with scar tissue—not yet. The ache for her was so acute, Eli wondered if he’d ever heal. Like his unchangeable past—losing friends and his mom and his leg and his career as a Marine—he’d lost Isa, too. “She loved me last Friday, anyway.”

  Eli rubbed his palm with his thumb, grounding himself to stop the pain in his heart.

  Didn’t work.

  Alex leaned back in his chair, his eyes turning skyward. “I’m sure that’s not changed. She’s been waiting for you to step up, I imagine.”

  “I can’t give her what she wants. How can I know what the future will bring, Dad? How can I know I won’t wake up one day completely different? What if I want to move to Montana to start raising cattle? Where would that leave her?”

  “Montana?” His father let out a rough laugh. “Since when are you considering the life of a rancher?”

  “I used to know who I was.” Eli clasped hands, watching the crunchy leaves scatter over his rooftop. “I was a meat-eating Marine with a live-in girlfriend, buddies I loved like brothers, and both of my legs.” He let out a humorless laugh. “I lost it all
.”

  “You’re rebuilding it all.” His father’s blue eyes held wisdom and years and years of pain—pain he’d hurdled.

  “How’d you do it? How’d you lose Mom and not curl up and die with her?” Eli had never asked him that question. But he’d always wondered. He used to think it was his father’s strength that saved him, but no matter how strong Eli was, he still feared what might go wrong next.

  “Because of you. And Tag. And Reese. Without you, I’d have climbed into a bottle of scotch and never come out. Or maybe I would be living on Key West, picking up aluminum cans and muttering to myself. You boys gave me a reason to go on. Family does that. Women do that.” He raised both eyebrows. “Why do you think I insisted on coming to these dinners? I’m not willing to let you become a loner, Eli. No good lies down that desolate path.”

  His father was right. They’d gradually pried Eli out of the muck.

  “You’re retreating. A good soldier knows when he’s lost the battle,” Alex said. “But, son, your compass is showing false north. You haven’t lost. You haven’t even tried.”

  Eli lost his temper, standing and kicking over his lawn chair. “You don’t know anything!” He turned for the door, steam from his anger propelling him forward. He wasn’t sure where he was going, just that he was going.

  “Don’t run this time,” came his father’s calm voice from behind him.

  Eli stared at the handle of the metal door leading to his upstairs loft, wanting more than anything to go through it and leave his father’s words behind. In the end, he couldn’t. Like Reese, Alex was right most of the time, too.

  He heard the scrape of the chair and the scuff of his father’s leather shoes. A second after that, his father’s broad hand landed on his shoulder. “Life doesn’t have to be this hard, Eli. You’re home now. You’re no longer required to fight for a living. So stop fighting, yeah?”

  Eli blinked over very scratchy, heated eyes.

  “My tough guy. You always were my little soldier.” Alex’s raspy chuckle ended with pulling Eli into his arms, holding the back of his head while Eli tried to stop the hot tears from burning twin trails down his cheeks.

  He held on to his dad, the words his father spoke sinking in. Maybe he could stop fighting—maybe he could let go of the past and the grief that haunted him like ghosts from A Christmas Carol.

  After a few moments, Alex patted Eli’s back, then held him at arm’s length. Hands on his cheeks, Alex gave him a pat. “There now. Go get your girl. If you want her. Do you want her?”

  Fuck yeah, Eli wanted her. But he also honored her right to leave—her right to walk away when he didn’t give her enough.

  “She asked for space and I respect that.”

  His old man’s eyes narrowed briefly. “Women are delicate creatures, aren’t they?”

  Eli pressed his lips together. Isa was both delicate and strong.

  “Don’t wait too long, yeah?” Alex pulled open the door and gestured for Eli to go in ahead of him.

  “Yeah.” One trial at a time.

  Eli swiped his eyes and sniffed before going in. When he reached the staircase, he began his descent.

  Chapter 21

  For the entire next week, Isa’s MO had been work, followed by more work.

  Come very early Saturday morning, Isa walked downstairs to Sable Concierge in tall brown boots, a pair of skinny jeans, and a shirt with a long, cream-colored cardigan over the top. She’d left her hair down and put her makeup on, but the reflection in the mirror didn’t show her to be the confident, professional woman her clothing should portray.

  The hollows beneath her eyes were from lack of sleep and the hole in her heart was because she’d completed a tumultuous first run at a relationship. Eli Crane. What a disastrous choice.

  Three hours later, she felt more human than before. At her desk, fingers on her keyboard, it was impossible to not be surrounded by purpose. By blessings. By strength. She’d started this business from nothing, and without the support of her family. She’d built a business from scratch, then nurtured it into being.

  A series of knocks came at the glass front door. Isa looked up to find a courier holding a package. She hopped up and jogged to the door, accepting the box before shutting the door again.

  She plunked the box onto the nearest flat surface—Chloe’s former desk—and grabbed a pair of scissors from the pen cup. Carefully, she sliced the tape as she read the return address.

  The Crane Hotel.

  Her mind raced to puzzle what might be hiding behind the cardboard. Surely not a delivery from Reese? And surely nothing from Eli.

  But when she opened the box, she found a handwritten note on top of the white tissue paper—from Eli.

  It read:

  Sable,

  One thong, one shirt, one red dress. I promised to replace all three while we were together. You deserve this and more.

  Eli.

  This and more? What was that supposed to mean? She peeled back the paper to reveal the items promised. A black pair of lace thong panties, which made her remember the day in his office when he’d taken a pair of scissors from his lap drawer and joked, “In case of emergency.”

  One red dress—like the one he’d popped the threads on in his hurry to get her out of it the night after Dooley’s bar. The night he’d made love to her against the wall and uttered a request that echoed in her brain: “Fuck me.”

  A cream silk shirt like the one he’d sliced the buttons from before their first kiss, when she made him a promise she’d meant at the time: “Do it. I won’t run.”

  But she had run, hadn’t she? She’d run and Eli hadn’t chased her this time.

  Reverently, she stroked the fabric of the shirt, her eyes filling. The door opened, this time letting in Chloe, her auburn curls blowing.

  “It’s freezing out there.” Chloe fluffed her hair, then frowned as she caught sight of Isa. “Oh no, what’s wrong?”

  Chloe didn’t wait for an answer, rushing over to survey the random clothing now spread on her former desk.

  “Eli?” she asked after reading the note. “Sent you a random assortment of designer clothes?”

  “They’re not random.” That, she was sure of. What she wasn’t sure of was whether this was Eli’s way of saying things were over for good between them or something else entirely…

  Chloe flipped over the white cardstock. Blank.

  “I asked him to give me time and he’s giving it to me.” Knees weakening, Isa sat in the desk chair. “He asked me for time, but I didn’t give it to him. I thought because I was in love with him he had to commit right away.” She shook her head, remembering the dinner and how excited he was about the COO position. How she’d selfishly turned a spotlight on what he hadn’t given her. “I behaved like a child. No. Worse. I behaved like Josh.”

  The epiphany hit her so hard it hurt. Josh had once delivered an ultimatum. Either Isa bend to his will or he’d find someone who would. It wasn’t exactly the way things had gone down with Eli, but her terms were now or never.

  “Oh, Chloe.” Isa put her head in her hands. “I screwed up.”

  “Isa.” Chloe put a palm on Isa’s back and rubbed. “Don’t beat yourself up. And don’t compare yourself to that douchebag ex of yours, okay?”

  Isa gave her friend a weak smile. “I made a big mistake.”

  “So what? People make mistakes. You screwed up.”

  Isa recalled saying something similar to Eli the day after she was attacked.

  “Are you afraid you’ll screw up? We all screw up.”

  “Yeah.” Isa blinked and Chloe came back into focus. “We all screw up.”

  “Which reminds me…” Chloe’s supportive smile faded. “I came in because I have bad news.” She grimaced and told Isa the rest. “My dad fell off a ladder and broke his leg and he’s driving my mom up a wall. I promised to fly to Maryland and help her out. I figured I can go to the Crane event tonight, but then I’ll have to be out for a week or so. Is t
hat okay? I’ll totally use my vacation time to do it.”

  “No.” Isa shook her head. “No, it’s not okay.”

  “It’s not?” Chloe’s frown deepened as a smile spread Isa’s lips.

  “I don’t mean you going to Maryland—yes, go. Be with your family. But you can leave tonight if you want to, because I’m going to the Crane event myself.”

  Eli had reached out, but he still believed she deserved better than him. Isa knew because she knew him. He was avoiding her to avoid his heart breaking. The same way he’d avoided Benji’s widow.

  Isa had delivered the felling blow at Eli’s house and until just now, she was sure she’d been right.

  “Going is the right thing to do,” Isa said. She felt a stab of doubt as she surveyed the clothing on the desk in front of her. “Unless this was his way of evening the scales. Of returning what he took from me.”

  Chloe’s mouth tightened in consideration.

  “Except it’s not all here,” Isa said with a soft laugh.

  “No?” Chloe lifted the tissue paper in the box but there was nothing beneath it. “What’s missing?”

  “I’m afraid Eli still has my heart.”

  Chloe, arms full of tissue paper, grinned.

  “I’m not good at ducking out of my own life.”

  “I love when you get into Isa-kick-butt mode.” Chloe tossed aside the paper and rubbed her palms together. “Give me something to do. What can I help with? Can I help you shop for shoes for tonight? Do you need jewelry? A dress?”

  “Actually…” Isa unfolded the gorgeous, bright red dress. The size was spot-on, the neck high and the back cut low. Either Eli knew her style or had help from someone who did. Isa held the dress to her body and smiled at Chloe. “I already have a dress.”

  * * *

  Alex Crane earned a laugh when he made his parting remarks at the fancy-schmancy Royale London dinner. Eli’s turn to speak was coming up soon. He was COO now, and the company needed a face, a presence, to go with the name. He’d finally become the man Crane Hotels needed him to be.

 

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