Homecoming: The Billionaire Brothers

by Lily Everett

  “What’s the holdup?” Miles scowled. “Look, I know you usually leave this kind of thing to me, and that’s fine. It’s my responsibility to take care of the family. But this is crunch time. The way Dylan sounded on the phone … I think we need to present a united front about this.”

  For the most part, Logan was content to let Miles sweat the small stuff—and the big stuff—when it came to taking care of business. All Logan concerned himself with was the scientific end of things, both developing and then creating the cutting-edge technology that would take their company into the future. But a kernel of shame lodged beneath Logan’s breastbone at the realization that he’d let Miles also bear the full burden of holding together what was left of their family.

  And as he stared at his older brother now, he noticed for the first time that there was a thin layer of frazzled worry under his normal, unruffled façade.

  This wasn’t just another problem to solve, for Miles. He was genuinely concerned about Dylan—which meant he’d be even harder to dissuade from the course of action he’d set. Miles would save Dylan from another gold-digging fiancée, or die trying.

  However, Logan wasn’t a hundred percent sure in this case that Dylan needed saving.

  His phone buzzed with another incoming e-mail, and his fingers itched to check for more flailing and freaking out from his lab rats.

  Miles sighed, and Logan looked up to see a spasm of something tighten his older brother’s mouth before Miles said, with his usual calm composure, “Never mind. You won’t be happy until you’re in your lab, overseeing everything. It’s fine, I’ll call back the helicopter, then go deal with Dylan myself.”

  He reached into an inner pocket of his suit jacket for his phone, and Logan’s breath hitched. Escape was so close, he could almost taste it …

  A vision of Jessica’s face as he’d last seen it rose up before him. Pale as milk, but blank. Expressionless. Except for her eyes—they’d burned with a green fire that threatened to reduce him to ashes.

  You don’t know what love is.

  Her parting shot echoed in his mind, and Logan filled his lungs with clean, clear, salt-scented air. She was wrong. He knew exactly what love was. That’s why it terrified him.

  But all his fear and all his defenses hadn’t stopped love from slipping into his heart and setting up a home. And what did all that fear boil down to, in essence? What was he afraid of?

  The pain of loss. The very same pain that was currently squeezing his lungs and boring holes in his heart—because the worst had already happened. He’d lost Jessica.

  And yeah, it hurt. A lot. But he was still alive, and so was she. Something his mother used to say, an old-fashioned sentiment he hadn’t thought of in years, echoed in his ears.

  Where there’s life, there’s hope.

  “No, don’t call the helicopter,” Logan said, surprised by how calm he sounded as his long-held fears sloughed off him like a snake shedding its skin. He stood tall and proud, steadier than he’d been in years. “I’ll stay and talk to Dylan with you. It’s time we faced things as a family.”

  One look into Jessica’s gorgeous green eyes would be enough to tell if Logan should keep that hope alive—or bury it forever, along with his heart.

  Chapter Eleven

  “Who on earth can that be?”

  Greta Hackley, who’d proudly informed Jessica that her family had owned the hardware store on Sanctuary Island for generations, was kneeling in a booth and staring out the picture window at the front of the Firefly Café with wide dark eyes.

  Jessica joined Penny’s maid of honor to peer through the glass. “Oh no. Damage control time.”

  As if reluctant to take her eyes off the spectacle of two incredibly handsome, tall, broad-shouldered men striding up to the restaurant, Greta turned her head slowly to study Jessica. “There, now there’s a little color in those cheeks. When you first walked in here to help, I thought we were going to end up picking you off the floor. But you’re a hard worker, even when you’re feeling poorly.”

  “Poorly,” Jessica murmured, most of her attention on the approach of the elder Harrington brothers. “That’s one way to put it.”

  Another way would have been “heartbroken.” But that was ridiculous, she chastised herself. Of all women, Jessica, who’d been through this before, who’d cleaned up after Logan’s endless string of one-night stands, should know better. She did know better.

  So why did the sight of Logan, still on the island and walking toward her with a determined edge to his jaw, make her heart race?

  Probably adrenaline, she told herself as her attention finally shifted to the man who paid her salary, Miles Harrington. From what hints Penny had dropped, with many a concerned glance at her fiancé, Miles had been coldly furious to hear about Penny and Dylan’s whirlwind romance.

  His presence at the engagement breakfast might signal a change of heart—or it could mean he was here to lay down the law and forbid the marriage, like some soap opera patriarch come to life.

  Checking behind her, Jessica saw Dylan taking advantage of a brief moment of quiet before the party really started to draw his bride-to-be around a corner and steal a kiss. Happiness shot through with shards of loss tightened Jessica’s throat.

  By God, someone in this whole drama deserved a happy ending.

  Pushing away from the booth, she jerked her head in the direction of the oblivious couple. “Keep the lovebirds occupied in here,” she told Greta. “I’ll take care of those guys.”

  Greta arched a dark blond brow and flicked her long braid over her flannel-shirted shoulder. “If you need help, you know where to find me.”

  Smiling, Jessica thanked her. But as she moved swiftly to the door to head off the invasion of the Harrington brothers, she thought bleakly that she was probably the only person on Sanctuary Island who stood a chance of making Miles Harrington listen to reason.

  And even then, it wasn’t a very good chance. Miles was famous for making up his mind and sticking to his guns.

  Jessica had braced herself for the emotional charge of coming face-to-face with Logan after their recent fight, but nothing could have prepared her for the reality of staring up into his stern, hard-planed face and seeing his ice-blue eyes fire with open, obvious desire.

  Faltering, heart stuttering, Jessica darted a nervous glance at her boss. She’d already lost Logan—she couldn’t lose her job, too.

  Miles’s gaze narrowed on her face, his expression as cold and implacable as granite. She felt the piercing force of his stare as if he could peer into her mind and see that she’d made the colossal, ridiculous mistake of falling for one of the Harrington brothers.

  Jessica dug deep and unearthed a reserve of strength she hadn’t known she possessed. It was enough to straighten her shoulders and pull her spine taut. Enough to enable her to face her boss as calmly as if she were wearing her favorite red wool suit and heels, rather than a white T-shirt and a pair of jeans that were dusty from climbing a ladder to hang streamers.

  “Mr. Harrington,” she said coolly, extending a hand before belatedly realizing it was smeared with a bit of buttercream frosting from the cake she’d helped set up on the café counter. Withdrawing it, she wiped it smoothly on her pants. “What a surprise. We weren’t expecting you.”

  Her gaze slid sideways to Logan before she could stop it. “Either of you,” she finished, as impassively as she could manage.

  The light in Logan’s eyes dimmed as if she’d snuffed it out like a candle. His abrupt shift to slide his hands in his pockets made her wonder if he’d been about to reach out to her.

  Jessica flinched away from the urge to hope like a person with vertigo on the edge of a cliff. Logan wasn’t ready to change who he was, wasn’t ready for a real emotional commitment. He might never be. And in the meantime, she couldn’t wait around, wishing and hoping for more.

  It would hurt too much.

  Forcing herself to look away from Logan, Jessica faced her boss. A muscle ti
cked in Miles’s stony jaw. “Ms. Bell. Here you are.”

  “Here I am.” She projected a light professionalism she didn’t really feel. “I promised Dylan and Penny I’d help set up for the party.”

  Miles frowned. “Yes, so Logan mentioned. Not exactly in your job description, Ms. Bell. Unlike accompanying Logan when he travels. That is part of your job, as I remember explaining it.”

  Jessica suppressed a wince. Miles could smell fear, like blood in the water. But before she could make the excuse that she’d told Logan not to travel anywhere—and Miles would see it as an excuse, he didn’t accept any rationalization of failure—Logan said, “It’s fine. I told her to stay here, and that I’d see her back in New York on Monday.”

  His voice was quiet, a little tired around the edges, but the fact that he was trying to cover for her made emotion rise up to clog Jessica’s throat.

  She couldn’t stop herself from meeting his gaze, and the weary defeat in his blue eyes nearly exploded the ball of emotion into a storm of tears. But Logan smiled at her, a small, private smile that looked as if it intended to be reassuring. “Bright and early, Monday morning, back to the real world. Everything just as it was before we left.”

  The world screeched to a halt around Jessica’s ears at the subtle message Logan was sending, like a whisper only she could hear. Back to normal, exactly as they’d agreed.

  He was telling her she could have what she’d negotiated for up front—a week of bliss, of fun and discovery in his arms, and on Monday, they’d pick up where they left off, as colleagues. It was everything she’d thought she wanted, especially since it was all she believed she could have after he stormed out of the summer cottage.

  As Logan handed her what she’d asked for, free and easy as a gift, Jessica realized the truth. She wanted more.

  She wanted it all. And for the first time in years, Jessica seriously wondered if it might be possible.

  *

  Jessica didn’t even appear to register the way Miles was complaining that everything better not be back to the way it was, because he couldn’t have Logan dropping dead of a heart attack before the age of forty due to stress and exhaustion.

  That was fine. Logan was ignoring him, too. But then, he usually ignored Miles, while Jessica usually hung on the man’s every word. Miles was her boss, after all, and her job was the most important thing to her—which she’d proved by acting like there was nothing between her and Logan, the minute Miles showed up.

  But now she was staring at Logan in a daze, as if he’d somehow shocked the sense out of her by trying to finally give her what she’d asked for.

  Which didn’t make Logan feel too good, especially when combined with the fact that he was here now, with Miles, to try to start standing together as a family. Tuning the big man out probably wasn’t the best way to go about it.

  Logan tuned back in with a vengeance when the front door of the café pushed open, and Dylan stomped down the steps to confront them. He went right up to Miles, toe to toe with their older brother, and it gave Logan a jolt to notice as if for the first time how alike they looked. Not merely their blue eyes, light-brown hair, and tall, athletic frames, but in their identical stubborn expressions.

  Maybe he should read up on genetics—clearly a fascinating field of scientific study.

  A tall woman Logan didn’t know hovered in the restaurant doorway behind Dylan, watching with definite interest.

  “Great job keeping him distracted,” Jessica muttered, and the woman grimaced.

  “Sorry, he’s a force of nature when he’s going after something.”

  “Family trait,” Jessica replied tersely, causing the young woman to grin and flick a sideways glance at Miles.

  Ignoring all the byplay, Dylan divided his glower equally between both of his older brothers as if unsure whose ass should be at the top of his to-be-kicked list. “If you’re here to try and stop me from marrying Penny, you may as well head back to the city.”

  Miles stepped up, as usual, raising his smoothly shaved chin to stare down his long, straight nose. “Don’t cast me as the villain in this drama. I’m only here to make sure no one is taking advantage of you.”

  Dylan snorted as if he didn’t buy it for a second, but Logan saw the way the lines at the corners of Miles’s eyes deepened and his frozen mask chilled down another few degrees.

  This was the kind of fraught, intensely emotional confrontation Logan hated. Everyone here believed he was right, utterly and completely, and no one was ever going to back down. Usually he stayed out of it, knowing the chaos would eventually resolve itself.

  “And I suppose the fact that I love Penny and she loves me,” Dylan argued, “that means nothing to you.”

  It was Miles’s turn to register complete disbelief, although he was too controlled to snort. “Dylan. You’ve known each other for less than a month.”

  “So? Grandma told me once that Dad asked Mom to marry him on their third date.”

  The mention of their parents shut Miles up as nothing else could. Turning his hard-jawed face away to stare out at the ocean vista that provided a backdrop to the Firefly Café, he muttered to Logan, “Reason with him. I can’t deal with him when he’s like this.”

  A tiny intake of breath to his right had Logan looking back in time to see Jessica subtly stepping closer to Dylan, aligning herself with him. She stared at Logan, her whole heart in her eyes, and he read the plea there as clearly as if she’d written it on the air between them.

  She didn’t want him to systematically take the whole concept of love apart, to reduce it to pieces and parts, components scattered across a lab table for dissection. That’s all Jessica thought he’d know to do with love.

  Maybe that was true, before Sanctuary Island. But now … Logan took a deep breath and faced his younger brother—although his words were meant for the older brother.

  Once again, Logan was in the middle, tugged in opposite directions. But this time, he was sure enough of his own footing to keep from budging. Jessica had given him that. So he paid her back the only way he knew how.

  “Miles wants me to tell you that love is nothing more than chemicals in the brain, a means to promote the propagation of the species. Maybe he thinks the fact that there’s a biological basis for the experience of loving another human being means it’s not real. But I’m a scientist, and a man, and I know that love is real … that it’s something more than an evolutionary imperative.”

  Miles swung around, hell in his eyes, but before he could blast Logan, Jessica said, “You wanted him to talk. So let him talk.”

  A little thrown by the novel experience of Jessica defending him against Miles—usually, the two of them ganged up on Logan to bug him into working less and eating more—Logan had to refocus on Dylan’s set, uncertain face to keep going.

  “Love is not an equation,” Logan told him. He told Miles, and Jessica, and himself, the truth revealing itself to him as he spoke, unfolding from deep inside him. “You can’t plug in a given set of values and solve for x. Two virtual strangers might look at each other across a crowded room and know … while for others, it might take years as coworkers—friends—to understand the truth.”

  Keeping his gaze steadily locked on his brother, heart hammering at even the thought of glancing at Jessica, Logan saw the moment Dylan realized that he had at least one brother’s support. The gratitude and relief on his face was almost enough to knock Logan off his feet.

  But he managed to keep his balance—until he had an armful of warm, soft, trembling woman.

  Staring down at Jessica in stunned surprise, Logan murmured, “What are you doing?”

  “For a genius, sometimes you’re kind of slow on the uptake,” she said, a beaming smile breaking through the tears rolling down her pink cheeks. “Kiss me, Logan.”

  “But what about—mmmf…” Logan broke off his question about Miles with a happy groan, wrapping his arms around Jessica tightly enough to pull her fully against him.

&
nbsp; If she didn’t care that she was kissing Logan directly in front of her boss, Logan wasn’t going to be the one to remind her. Not when he had the taste of her in his mouth, the sweet smell of her in his lungs, and the lush curves of her body in his hands.

  And when the kiss finally broke, purely for lack of oxygen, Logan looked up to see Dylan giving him a wink as he steered their shocked oldest brother down the path to the deck at the back of the restaurant to finish their conversation there.

  “Looks like your impassioned speech about love didn’t manage to completely convince Miles,” Jessica observed.

  Logan adored the breathless tone of her voice, the way she could sound so serene and amused even as her body tried to mold itself to his.

  “As long as it convinced you,” he said roughly.

  A note of uncertainty threaded through as she replied, “You convinced me that I was wrong—you do know what love is. But if you wanted to be completely explicit about what you think is happening here between you and me, I wouldn’t complain.”

  Which was her wordy, professional way of asking what the hell Logan intended. In response, Logan dropped a kiss on her uptilted nose.

  “What I think is happening is that I love you. And you love me. And maybe we’re both still figuring out what that means for us, and how to make it work—but I know I want to try. If you’re willing to take a chance on trying to have it all, I want to be the man who shares it with you.”

  Misty moisture clouded her green eyes, and she did that bewildering laughing-while-crying thing again, but Logan didn’t let it bother him. Because she was also nodding, and kissing every inch of his face and neck that she could reach, and as the sun of Sanctuary Island beat down on their bare heads and gulls wheeled overhead and his lab sat empty hundreds of miles away, Logan had never been happier.

  Yep, he thought smugly as he dipped Jessica to make her laugh and nipped at the tender side of her neck to make her shiver. I am definitely a genius.

  Island Road

  Chapter One

  Miles Harrington stared at his two younger brothers and wondered where the hell he went wrong.