The Billionaire's Matchmaker: An Indulgence Anthology (Entangled Indulgence)

by Barbara Wallace

  “You don’t give yourself enough credit. You always were smarter than you thought you were.”

  She shrugged off the words and turned her attention to the road. Her nose twitched, and something burned behind her eyes. She lowered the window and let the rush of cold air whisk the emotion away. She refused to be softened by him. Maybe in the old days, but not now, not with the disappointments that had followed. He had let her down once before—he could easily do it again.

  Her friends in Chandler’s Cove would be reminding her to be cautious if she was at their weekly coffee meeting today. Marney, Mia, and Jenny provided more than just friendship—they were often her second compass, a way of reminding her what was important. She was going to miss those women, that was for sure. Their supportive texts and Facebook messages had sent her off on her journey with a hearty “good luck.” Gabby hadn’t mentioned T.J.’s presence—maybe because she wasn’t quite sure what to make of it herself.

  “Once we cross the state line, do you want to stop for lunch? There’s this barn I want to photograph with a building-sized version of the American Gothic painting on it. I think it’d be perfect for my exhibit. You know, a slice of Americana on a trip across America.”

  “Sure.” He shifted in the seat to look at her. “Tell me about this exhibit you’re working on.”

  “Well, it’s not an exhibit yet. All I got was an “I’m interested” from the gallery owner in Chicago. He wants me to send him digital images of what I’m planning before he makes a commitment.” She explained the concept—mixed media representations of quirky stops along the road between Illinois and California. “The pieces are all going to be displayed in halves, because I’m calling it One-Half of America, and if it does well, I’ll do the other half of America next year.”

  T.J. nodded his appreciation. “So these will be like three-dimensional photographs?”

  “Yup. And I’ll layer them with items endemic to that area, like poker chips for Nevada and prairie grass for Wyoming.”

  “That sounds cool.”

  “Thanks.” The praise warmed her. She slid another glance in T.J.’s direction. He’d always been supportive of her art, the only person she knew who “got” her, even with all her quirks.

  She remembered the two of them hitting museums on the weekend. T.J. would tell Gabby he could see her art hanging there someday and she’d brush off the encouragement. One time, he’d lingered in front of a painting of a father and son fishing. And in a quiet, somber voice he had told her about a father who never encouraged, only criticized, a father who had mapped his son’s path from birth and allowed zero deviation from the plan.

  It had been one of the few times he’d talked about his father, but it had explained everything about T.J.

  Maybe that had been half the reason she’d kept trying to get him to join her on her crazy adventures. To force T.J. to see there was a world—and people—outside the expectations of his father. It had been a constant challenge to get him to loosen up, to step outside the boundaries he placed on himself, coupled with the rules and expectations of his stern, cold father. And maybe a part of her had wanted to spend time with T.J., the one person who used to balance her, and who made her crazy world make sense.

  An hour later, they had grabbed some sandwiches from a deli and pulled up outside the barn. A two-story image of Grant Wood’s iconic painting stared back at them, the serious couple with the pitchfork seeming to watch the passing traffic with slight disapproval. Gabby got out of the car, her camera in hand, and positioned herself on the other side of the fence. A soft blanket of white snow covered the hillside and the barn’s roof, giving the building a stark but ethereal feel. She settled into the shot, feeling the moment ease into her mind, her heart. Here, creating art, was where she was most at home. Where she found peace.

  She had missed that feeling. She’d lost it the day she’d painted that crazy, offensive mural—angry caricatures of town officials who she’d seen as trying to box her in as an artist, rather than being adult enough to recognize the mural was a job, not a chance to thumb her nose at the world and at the power of the haves versus the have-nots in town. Ever since, she’d been trying to get that feeling back. And here, finally, she’d found it.

  Or almost. Something nagged at her as she framed the image then snapped a few photos. The scene didn’t feel quite right, even with the perfect composition and lighting. Something was missing. But what? Behind her, she heard T.J. and Charlie exit the car and join her.

  “Aren’t you going to get closer?”

  She shook her head. “The owner doesn’t let anyone on the property.” She gestured toward the NO TRESPASSING signs posted every few feet. Charlie scrambled underneath and stood on the other side, prancing in the snow.

  “And when has a little sign stopped you before?”

  “T.J., I—”

  Before she could explain, T.J. pushed down the fence and climbed over it. “Come on, Gabby. Let’s get closer.”

  “I can zoom—”

  He pushed down the wire fence again with one hand then extended his opposite hand in Gabby’s direction. “Come on. Live dangerously.”

  His voice had dropped into a deep, dark range that stirred something inside her. Something that hadn’t been stirred in a really long time, that tempted her to take chances, to step off the path, to climb over the fence and into whatever adventure waited on the other side.

  Before Gabby could think twice, she put her hand in T.J.’s and broke a law for the first time in years. Not the one warning people away from the property, but the no trespassing wall she’d been trying to keep around her heart ever since T.J. had shown up on Mr. B’s doorstep.

  Chapter Four

  They didn’t stop laughing until they reached the interstate again. Even Charlie joined in, yipping and barking his excitement about the adventure. T.J. drove, zipping Gabby’s Toyota down the road. The light mood wrapped them all in a bright cloud. T.J. liked that. A lot. “That was close,” he said.

  “I thought they were going to call the cops. I haven’t run that fast…well, since the last time someone called the cops on me.” She laughed, and shook her head. “I never thought I’d say this, but you are a bad influence, T.J. Shepherd.”

  “Me? I’m the brainy, sensible one.” He grinned then flicked on the turn signal when he noticed a sign for a rest stop.

  “Maybe years ago, but now…”

  He glanced over at her. “Now what?”

  “Now you’re living on da edge, dude.” She grinned.

  Maybe Gabby was seeing him differently now and his plan was working. He wanted to apologize for the past, but worried that if he brought it up, it would burst this happy bubble. Later, he decided. They had miles to go yet. “You ain’t seen nothin’ yet, baby. So, are you going to admit I was right? That a little bit of trouble is fun?”

  “Okay, a little. But no more.” She wagged a finger at him. “I’m working hard to repair my image, and the last thing I need to do is to get arrested.”

  “You? Repair your image? What was wrong with it?” The girl he remembered had broken the rules, yes, but she was that daredevil everyone wished they could be. Especially him. Gabby had tempted him, then and now. It wasn’t just because of how different she was, it was because she still saw the real him—the only person who hadn’t cared about his political connections or his bank balance. For a long time, she’d been just his friend, but now he wanted more. “You were always badass and cool.”

  She shook her head and her voice dropped, softer, sadder. “I’m just not who I used to be.”

  “Me either, Gabby. Me either.” He sensed she didn’t want to talk about it, so he let the subject drop. T.J. parked the car in the rest stop parking lot then dropped the keys into Gabby’s palm. “Come on, let’s get some fresh air.”

  The three of them climbed out of the car. T.J. grabbed the bag of sandwiches and drinks and gestured toward a picnic table sitting under an awning to the right of the main building. No
one else was around, and the entire pavilion was covered with a pristine, white, snow blanket. “Lunch al fresco?”

  “It’s January.” She shivered in her coat. “We’ll freeze to death.”

  “It’ll be an adventure. A more legal one this time.”

  She looked dubious, but T.J. trudged up the snowy hill, spread their sandwiches on the wooden surface, and set down their drinks. As soon as he was released from his leash, Charlie bounded off, excited to have some room to run and explore. The dog stayed close, circling out and back around, leaving a trail of tracks peppered into the snow.

  “Mr. B would kill me if he knew Charles Osgood was outside without his little wool coat on.”

  “He is wearing a coat,” T.J. said. “The one God gave him.”

  She laughed. “True. Well, I won’t tell if you don’t.”

  He made a motion of zipping his mouth closed. “My lips are sealed.”

  That drew her attention to his mouth and to thoughts of kissing him. Damn, he looked good, with the dark hair she remembered, now a little longer and with a wave that swung across his forehead. She had the strangest urge to brush that hair back, to let her hands tangle in the locks, to draw him closer to her, to—

  Kiss him.

  Instead, she talked, keeping her mouth busy with something other than T.J. “What’s with you and this adventure thing? You used to be the one I had to convince.”

  He mouth quirked. “Do I detect a little surprise? At not being in control?”

  “I can turn the tables on you so fast, your head will spin.”

  He leaned back on the bench, crossed his arms over his chest, and smiled. “Oh yeah? I’d like to see you try.”

  The challenge roared inside her, awakening the old Gabby. It spurred her to stand up slowly while T.J. watched the movement. Even in jeans, boots, and a thick winter coat, she knew how to shift her hips to draw his attention. His smile grew wider as she closed the distance between them, propped a hand on either side of him, and then leaned in close, a breath away. She waited until his brows arched in surprise, and his smile faltered, like in the old days when he stuttered, unnerved by her in a miniskirt or a racy suggestion. Oh, she’d show him who was in control, and maybe he’d stop trying to prove otherwise.

  She brought her lips to his and whispered against his mouth. “The tables are turned, Mr. Shepherd. What are you going to do about it?”

  “Turn them back in my favor.” He cupped her head and drew her closer.

  “Wait? What?” Her eyes widened and she readied a protest, but it died on her lips the moment he kissed her. It was no ordinary kiss, nothing like what she might have expected out of the T.J. she used to know. No, this was a prelude to sex, a long, hot sensual kiss that slid across her lips with delicious precision, igniting a fire within her. The heat shimmied through her veins, burned deep inside her, and made her think of tangled sheets and hot nights.

  His tongue teased hers and his fingers awakened the nerves in the back of her neck. Her thoughts swirled, her heart raced. The world closed in to just them, this moment, this kiss.

  Too soon, T.J. drew back. Gabby took a second to catch her breath, to gather her thoughts and clear her head. She hadn’t been prepared for a kiss, especially not one from T.J. And especially not one so…hot and sweet. “What…what was that?”

  “If you don’t know, maybe we should go back to sex ed class.” T.J. grinned, then swung his leg over the bench and got to his feet.

  She put a hand on his chest. “Not so fast. What the hell was that?”

  “A kiss, Gabby. Nothing more.”

  “Why?”

  “Why what?”

  “Why kiss me? I mean, it’s not like we have a romantic history. We were just friends in high school, and then you…”

  “Left.” He’d been waiting for this question, for the elephant to make an appearance in the room.

  “Yeah. No contact, nothing for all these years. Now you pop back into my life, go on this cross-country road trip with me. Then you kiss me. What is going on, T.J.?”

  He sighed, and his gaze went to some place in the distance, some place far from her. She got the feeling he was hiding something, but she wasn’t sure what. “I never meant to let our friendship die when I left, Gabby. I just needed some time away from here, away from everything that came with Chandler’s Cove.”

  “Meaning your father.”

  He nodded. “I needed an opportunity to see if I could make it on my own. Without his influence or his name or his demands.” T.J. released a long breath and focused his gaze on hers. “Out of all the people in the world, you are the only one who knows what he was like, what living with him was like. And I hope that means you can also understand why I just needed to…shut myself off, I guess, from all of that when I left for college.”

  “And from all reminders of what used to be.”

  “Yes,” he said. “And I’m sorry now that you and our friendship were caught in that.”

  His cutting her out of his life had been a side effect of his determination to shed Edward Shepherd’s influence. T.J.’s father had been a beloved mayor, a successful businessman, a charity darling—in public. Behind closed doors, Edward had been a tyrant, a man who expected perfection from his family. Second place didn’t exist in Edward’s mind, and he pushed T.J. to excel in everything, to maintain a straight A average, to be the smartest, brightest, most organized student. T.J. came home at the end of every school day to a silent, pristine house where dust didn’t dare to settle. Gabby had always tried to ease that weight hanging around his shoulder, to help him forget his father’s rules and expectations. “When I was with you, it was my only chance to cut loose, to be someone else. But then I had to go back home, right into that suffocating house again. When I got to college, I wanted to see what would happen if I relied only on me. So I told my father I didn’t want his money. I’d do it on my own.”

  Her brows furrowed. “How did you pay for school?”

  “I got a few scholarships and paid for the rest by waiting tables. Delivering pizzas. And I started a small business on the side that did pretty good.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I got so consumed by my determination to make my own way that I let everything in my past go. Including you. I’m sorry.”

  She’d heard rumblings around town that T.J. had done well after college. But she hadn’t listened. He’d cut her off; in her hurt, she’d done her best to excise him from her thought and her heart.

  “That’s okay.” She shrugged as if it didn’t bother her, but it did. A lot. T.J., the one person she’d thought she could always count on, had let her down. Even though a part of her—okay, the majority of her—was attracted to this new T.J., the sensible side threw up caution flags, warning her if he had let her down once, he could do it again. He tipped her chin until she was looking at him. “It was a mistake. I didn’t realize how big of one until I saw you again. And then I knew what I had lost.”

  Her eyes filled with tears as a mixture of hurt and hope coursed through her. She shook her head, closing off her emotions to him. Was she that weak that a couple of sentences and a tender touch could make her forget that T.J. hadn’t been there for her when she needed him?

  If he had truly cared, he wouldn’t have left her behind.

  “We better hit the road,” she said. “We have a lot of miles ahead of us.”

  “Gabby—”

  Charlie came running at Gabby’s whistle, waited while she reclipped the leash, then bounded along at a happy run beside her. Gabby tossed the trash into a nearby bin and headed back to the car, trying to calm the riot of emotions awakened by one very simple kiss and one honest apology.

  Both had come too late. T.J. had left Chandler’s Cove to leave his past behind, and as soon as this trip was over, she was going to do the same.

  Chapter Five

  Almost ten hours after they left Chandler’s Cove, Gabby and T.J. pulled into the Pioneers Park in Lincoln, Nebraska. T.J. was back behind the wheel, wi
th Charlie tucked against Gabby in the passenger’s seat. The dog had slept a good portion of the trip, content just to ride along with them. For a moment, T.J. allowed himself the luxury of imagining he and Gabby were married and this was their dog.

  The wild Gabby he had known in high school was as far from domestic bliss as someone could get. She’d changed over the years, become not just more adult but also more self-assured and…solid. Yes, that was the word for it. A part of him was still figuring out this new Gabby and whether they were still the match he’d envisioned.

  Either way, in the back of his mind, he knew this family-on-a-trip moment would end. He had started this trip on a lie, and eventually he was going to have to come clean to Gabby.

  At the time, the lies had seemed like a good idea, a way to convince her to let him come along on the cross-country drive and at the same time rekindle the closeness they had in the past. But as the miles passed, he began to wonder if he should go ahead and tell her the truth—he wasn’t a struggling salesperson trying to get to California for an interview but, in fact, was the founder and CEO of his own successful software company.

  Even now, all these years later and after that mind-blowing kiss, he risked her rejecting him again. The memory held firm, a wall. T.J. telling Gabby at the school dance he wanted to be more than a friend, then leaning in for a kiss, only to have her turn away and sputter something about not wanting to screw up a good friendship.

  When he’d left town, he’d vowed to put Gabby from his mind. He’d dated several women, even come close to marrying one, but none of them had been Gabby.

  When his fiancé turned out to be just after his money and the life it could buy her, T.J. had started thinking about the old days. Before the money, before the company. All those days came attached to a memory of Gabby.

  Lord knew he’d tried to forget her, but Gabby had been…unforgettable. So here he was, in her Toyota, answering the question once and for all. Was Gabby just a friend, a sweet memory from the past, or was she more?