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

by Barbara Wallace

  “My friends and I are always speculating about that billionaire on the hill. He’s definitely a topic for gossip around town.” Gabby perched on the edge of the seat. “What’s he like? Mr. B.?”

  “Haven’t you met him?”

  She shook her head. “He’s lived in town for a few months now and no one I know has met him. He’s…reclusive, like he’s a hunchback living in a tower.”

  T.J. chuckled. “I can attest to one thing. He’s definitely not a hunchback. But I don’t really know much more than that. I dealt mostly with Cyrus. While I was at the house, Bonaparte only put in a brief appearance. He stuck to the back of the room and stayed in the shadows. Almost like he was—”

  “Reclusive,” they both said at the same time.

  Gabby laughed then slid onto the floor. Charlie scrambled into her lap, pressing his head against Gabby’s chest, happy and content. “Hey, Charlie,” she said.

  Envy flickered in T.J. Ridiculous. How could he be jealous of a dog? But he was. He wanted to be the one welcomed into Gabby’s arms. He wanted to kiss her again, damn it, but every time he tried to get close, she shifted away.

  “I need some air,” he said. “I’m going to go grab us some food at the diner.”

  “Sounds good. And I can get some work done while you’re gone.” She reached for the wallet she kept in her backpack. “Let me—”

  “I’ve got it, Gabby.” He ducked out of the room before he got into a battle for her affections with a twenty-pound dog.

  Chapter Six

  Two seconds too late, Gabby realized her mistake.

  Her hands still hovered over the keyboard on her laptop, as if sheer will could recall the email she’d sent. She cursed, then cursed again, loud enough that Charlie hopped up and let out a bark. “Damn it,” she said to the dog. “How could I be so stupid?”

  There was only one area of Gabby’s life that she had learned to keep organized and detailed—her career. Ever since that debacle with that controversial mural she’d painted, she’d kept a detailed appointment log, made daily To Do lists, and always followed up on calls and emails. She’d seen too many artists let their creative side rule the business, which made for a chaotic approach and ultimately ticked off clients and gallery owners. Something she had been guilty of for years because she’d been too cocky, too brash, to play by the rules of grown-up life. But quirky, creative, disorganized artist didn’t equal smart and successful businesswoman, nor did it help build a career. She was still working on juggling her creative and sensible sides. And today, she’d failed.

  Damn.

  She’d been distracted by that damned kiss and the changes in T.J. He’d been on her mind all day and even more so once he had left her in the room.

  The single room. That she’d offered to share with him. Even as her body hummed at the prospect of sharing a bed—oh yes, a bed—with him.

  Ever since that day at the dance when T.J. had asked her out, Gabby had wondered what it would have been like if she’d said yes. That O-M-G kiss they’d shared today had raised all those thoughts again, only now they had a very adult edge to them.

  One room. One night. Just her and T.J.

  Gabby’s fingers went to her lips. What if tonight she acted on those feelings she’d held back for so long? What if she took advantage of the bed, the privacy, the temporary togetherness? Would she regret it—or savor the night as a wonderful sweet memory?

  Then she glanced at her laptop and chided herself. Getting any more distracted by T.J. would detonate her comeback before it even got off the ground. T.J. was only along for the ride, and at this point in Gabby’s life she needed roots, permanence, direction.

  The door opened and T.J. stepped inside, holding a bag. “I wasn’t sure what you wanted, so I—” He stopped talking and took another step forward. “What’s wrong?”

  She let out a laugh that sounded more like a sob. Despite all the years that had passed and everything that had happened, T.J. could still read her emotions as plain as a sheet of paper. It showed that he was still one of her closest friends and right now, she needed that. Needed him.

  “I screwed up. When I sent the email of today’s images to the gallery, I accidentally sent the wrong photos.” She moved to the computer on the desk, pivoted the screen toward T.J., and showed him the two photos of Charlie—one with him in front of the American Gothic barn, and the other of him laying at the feet of the bison statue. “It’s not a big deal, and I sent the right ones immediately afterward, but it feels like a big deal because this job was so important to me.”

  “It’ll be fine, Gabby. I’m sure.”

  She shook her head. “I sure hope so. I’ve never worked with this gallery before, and I hate to give a bad first impression. I’ve worked so hard ever since—”

  “What?”

  She lowered her gaze. Bit her lip.

  “What?” he repeated, softer this time.

  She dropped into the chair. Maybe if she told him, she’d feel better. In the old days, talking to T.J. had always eased her burdens, from difficult classes or to the tough days when her parents fought like warring armies. “After you left for college, things kind of got off track for me. I mean, I had my friends, and they were great, but my family was pretty much gone. My parents got divorced. My dad moved to Portland and my mom went to Florida, leaving me in Chandler’s Cove. I always had this wild, almost self-destructive side of me, and that just brought it out more.”

  “I always liked that part of you,” T.J. said. “You encouraged me to break all those rules that put a straightjacket on my life.”

  “Sometimes, T.J., rules are a good thing.” She crossed her hands on her knees and met his gaze. “I just took a little longer to learn that lesson. About a year ago, the Chandler’s Cove Convention and Visitors Bureau hired me to paint a mural downtown. It was supposed to showcase the town’s attributes. How it was family friendly, a great community, etc. They invited the media to watch me paint it live, a whole ‘local girl brings the town to life’ thing.”

  “Sounds like a great opportunity.”

  “It was. But I blew it when I got into an argument with the head of the committee. Do you remember Richard Wilkins? He thought his money gave him power, and he kept dictating what he wanted me to do. I got all indignant and rebellious, and instead of painting what they wanted and I…I painted a mural that didn’t exactly put the town or the Convention and Visitors Bureau in a flattering light. I painted Wilkins with a pile of empty beer cans, Mark Napier with his mistress on his arm, and Joe Sampson wearing a dress.”

  “Oh. Oh wow. That is pretty daring.”

  “No, pretty stupid. I was angry and blasted that in public, rather than being professional and doing the job I was hired to do. I just felt like Wilkins was trying to control me with all that money. Plus, my grandma died the week before, and I think I was just not in a good place after losing her, because she was more of a mom to me than my own mom. The critics crucified me, and for a while there I thought the town council might run me out of Chandler’s Cove.”

  “What did you do?”

  “Holed up in my apartment, ate a lot of ice cream, and watched a lot of movies. I figured I was done as an artist. I’d blown it, let my idiocy and my stubbornness take control. Then I got an email from a gallery owner in Chicago who had seen the image on the web. She said that my work was exciting. Different. She wanted more. I finally took a good hard look at myself and I grew up, got a clue, and realized what I’d done. I went down there and repainted the mural. Turned it into an image of a park. With a creek.”

  “Our creek,” he said.

  She nodded, but didn’t hold his gaze. “Our creek.”

  He took a step closer. “I saw it. That day I went downtown to grab your ad. It’s a beautiful mural.”

  “Thank you.”

  “So you regrouped, made it right,” he said. “That’s good.”

  “Yeah, but I’m still worried about messing up again, which is why sending the wron
g email got me so upset. It was a small thing, and I need to learn to chill a little better. I’m sure it’ll be okay.”

  He helped her to her feet, then tipped her chin until she was looking at him. “On a scale of one to expelled…”

  That made her smile. “I don’t think I can get expelled anymore.”

  “Then it’s all good. And fixable. It’ll be fine, Gabby.”

  A little laugh escaped her and lit her eyes. Gabby cocked her head and studied him. “How can you still do that?”

  “Do what?”

  “Make me forget. No matter how bad my day was or how awful I was feeling, you always had this way of making me forget. Forget what’s bothering me. Forget what scares me. Forget…” She shook her head and let out a soft curse. “In a few words, you have this way of making it all…okay.”

  “That’s what friends are for.” Though he wanted more than that and had for a long, long time. He wasn’t on this trip with Gabby to see if he should forget her. He’d come to see if she loved him like he’d always loved her.

  “Is that what we are?” she asked. “Friends?”

  “Are we?”

  The two-word question hung in the air. Hell, the question had sat between them for years, ever since the day they’d met. There’d always been this magnet that drew him to her, a magnet he’d attributed to her being so different from him, so wild, so unpredictable. When really, what he wanted more than anything was Gabby herself.

  “I think we’ve always been more than that,” he said. He reached up, let his hand trail along her jaw. Her eyes widened, and her pulse leapt in her throat. “Don’t you?”

  “T.J….” She turned away. “I don’t think we should take this any further. I just don’t think it’s a good idea.”

  “Okay.” He lowered his hand.

  A heartbeat passed, another. The temperature rose, heating the space between them. She caught his hand with hers, her fingers warm and tight against his. “I want you,” she said softly. “But I’m so afraid. Of a thousand things, of making a mistake.”

  “Oh, Gabby.” Her name slid from his lips, part groan, part whisper. “Don’t be afraid. I’m here and I’m not going anywhere.”

  A long slow smile curved across her face. She splayed her fingers, pressed her hand on his chest. Her touch trailed down the front of his shirt, skipping over the buttons, dancing along the ridges of muscle beneath the cotton fabric. “You’ve changed.”

  “We both have. We’ve grown up.” His attention drifted to her curves and the desire that had been on a slow simmer began to burn hotter, brighter.

  She laughed, a deep, throaty sound. “I don’t know if I have. But you have grown up. In very nice ways.” A flush of pink invaded her cheeks, nearly as bright as the streak in her hair.

  “I’m not that geek you remember.”

  “No, T.J., you definitely aren’t. But underneath it all, I think you’re still the same guy. You’re down to earth and honest. At your core, you’re the T.J. I remember. I’ve missed that person a lot.”

  “You missed me?”

  “More than I realized. You’ve always…tempered me. Brought out the best in me.”

  The words filled him with joy. She saw who he was underneath. She always had. “And you’re still the same person who pushes me to step out of my comfort zone, to take chances.”

  “I could say you’ve turned the tables in that department this week.” Her gaze softened when she looked at him.

  “Maybe we should take this beyond just a road trip. To something more.” He’d said nearly the same thing years before. Back then, she’d rejected him. But this time, he sensed the undercurrent of attraction, the simmer of want, warring with whatever battles Gabby had inside her.

  “But…” She got to her feet, and shook her head. “We’re just traveling together for a few days. It wouldn’t be smart to complicate that. What’s going to happen when we get to California? You stay there, I go back to Illinois? We have something long distance?”

  “Honestly, I don’t know what will happen then.” He wanted more, wanted it all, but to have that, he had to tell her the truth about who he was…about why he stayed away all these years.

  Gabby nodded and bit her lip. The air in the room shifted from warm to cool. “Neither do I, T.J. Which is why I think we should just play it safe.”

  They faced one another, not touching. Charlie had woken up and pranced around their feet, panting and yipping, as if confused by the change. T.J. shook his head. “You used to be fearless, Gabby.”

  She snorted. “I used to be a lot of things. I’m sorry, T.J. As much as I want…” she waved between them as she took a step to the right, “this, I know it wouldn’t be—”

  Just then Charlie pounced on Gabby’s legs, knocking her off balance. She stumbled forward into T.J.’s arms. Fire erupted in his gut, and the world stopped spinning.

  “It wouldn’t be…” But she didn’t finish the sentence, and he didn’t leap to fill in the blanks.

  For that moment, all he knew, all he felt, was Gabby in his arms, the only woman he had ever really wanted but never stood a chance with. Her lips parted but no words came out. She looked up at him with those big green eyes. “Damn it, forget what I said. I do want you. A lot.”

  Before he could think, she rose on her tiptoes, grabbed his head, and hauled him to her for a hot, searing kiss.

  His arms circled her, and Gabby’s body melded into his, her sweet breasts pressed against his chest, her pelvis ground against his erection with delicious temptation. He slid his hands between them, reaching for the hem of her T-shirt, tugging the soft cotton up and over her head. At the same time, she worked at the buttons of his shirt, parting the panels in a feverish rush.

  He tugged off her jeans and then his own, kicking the denim to the side. The TV played the muted soundtrack of a movie in the background, but all T.J. heard was the skip of Gabby’s breaths, the whisper of her hands against his skin and his on hers. He slid his fingers under the satin straps of her bra, dragging them down her shoulders, watching as the fabric dropped, inch by inch, to reveal the swell of her breasts. The clasp released, the bra dropped to the floor, and T.J. lowered his head to follow the trail with his mouth. He kissed the curve of her breast, then teased along the edge of her nipple. She arched beneath him and he sucked the sensitive nub into his mouth.

  “Oh, God, T.J.”

  The sound of his name slipping from her lips nearly sent him over the edge. T.J. scooped Gabby into his arms, crossed the tiny room in three strides, and then laid her on the bed. He stepped back and paused.

  She smiled. “What are you doing? Taking a break already?”

  “Taking a second to think how damned lucky I am.”

  “That you’re welcome to do. As long as you’re quick about it.” The smile widened, and she opened her arms and beckoned him into the bed. He slid into the space beside her then watched her lift her hips, slide off her panties, and toss them aside.

  “You are absolutely beautiful,” he said.

  “And you are going to make me blush.”

  “Which only makes this part more attractive,” he trailed his hand down the center of her chest, “and this part,” he danced his fingers over her nipples, “and definitely this part.” He finished with a long slow slide down her abdomen, then between her legs and finally, inside her. She gasped, rose up, and clenched against his fingers.

  God, she was wet, eager, and hot as hell. It was all T.J. could do to take his time, to stoke the fire within her with his fingers and his mouth, moving down from her breasts to her delicious core, spreading her legs and tasting her in long, fast licks of his tongue, while Gabby groaned his name and tangled her hands in his hair.

  “T.J., God, please, just please…” She bucked against his face. “Please.”

  That was all it took. He paused only long enough to retrieve a condom from his overnight bag and slip it on, and then he positioned himself above her and slid inside her delicious warmth. She gra
sped at his back and his ass as he drove into her with long, hard strokes. She matched him move for move, and his brain stopped functioning. All he knew was this hot, fast, incredible moment. The vanilla notes of her perfume danced under his senses and mingled with the scent of her sex, and when she called out his name again in one drawn out syllable, he drove harder, faster, until the world exploded.

  After a moment, T.J. rolled into the space beside Gabby and drew her against him, then tugged the thin comforter over their bodies. She rested her head on his chest, one palm on his heart. The movie had ended and a beer commercial flickered on the television. From outside the room came the sounds of traffic passing on the highway, punctuated by the staccato of horns.

  Music to fall asleep by, T.J. thought, just before he drifted off with the most amazing woman in the world in the last place he’d ever thought she’d be…

  His arms.

  But sleep remained elusive, his mind filled with the knowledge that in the morning he’d have to tell Gabby the truth—

  And risk losing her forever.

  Chapter Seven

  Gabby paced outside the motel room, blowing clouds into the cold January morning. She’d been up early, before T.J. woke, trying to work out what was bothering her about this whole trip. T.J. was holding something back, leaving some detail out, she was sure of it. He kept clamming up when she asked about his job, and redirecting the conversation. It didn’t make sense. Maybe a little Girlfriend Therapy would help. She’d missed having her friends as sounding boards over the last few days.

  Charlie nosed around on the snowy ground across from the parking lot, picking out his morning bathroom location. Gabby clutched her cell, muttering “come on, come on, answer” while she waited on the dog.

  “Gabby!” Marney’s warm voice filled the connection. “How’s your trip going?”

  A simple question, but oh, such a complicated answer. “Not how I expected.”

  “In a bad way? Or a good way?”

  “Both.” She sighed. “I don’t know what to think. I need some advice.”