The Billionaire's Homecoming

by Christina Tetreault

  He’d sent her enough letters to have her address memorized. “How does 0900….” Brett stopped. “Sorry. Is nine o’clock too early?”

  A smile replaced her concerned expression. “I knew what you meant. My dad was in the Army. Nine sounds good. See you then.”

  Before she could get behind the wheel, he stepped closer. “Have a safe drive home.” His eyes zeroed in on her lips. With his target acquired, he leaned toward her. Before he reached his destination, she moved and dropped a quick, sisterly kiss on his cheek.

  “Bye.” She jumped into her car like a jack-in-the-box going in reverse.

  Brett stood and watched her drive away. He hadn’t been looking for or expecting it, but a unique relationship had developed thanks to their letters. He wouldn’t quite label it as a romantic one yet, but something damn close. He’d asked to meet so he could better gauge what did or didn’t exist between them. So far, his preliminary findings pointed in the right direction. This weekend he’d continue gathering intel, a mission he was definitely looking forward to.

  Chapter Three

  Jen looked back at her sister. Needing a little moral support this morning, she’d called Kristen. Her sister hadn’t hesitated to come over. “What was I thinking?”

  Jen tossed another bathing suit on her bed. She didn’t wait for Kristen to answer before continuing. “I should’ve suggested we go for a hike or a bike ride. Maybe a movie. Do you think it’s too late to call and reschedule?” Unless you were a fashion model, the beach was a terrible place for a date.

  “I’m not letting you reschedule.” Kristen picked up the newest suit to land on the bed. “And you cannot wear this one.” She tossed the purple bathing suit back at Jen.

  She caught it and then held it up to check for any holes or worn-out spots. She didn’t see any. In fact, she didn’t see anything wrong with it. The one-piece was her favorite color and the attached skirt covered the scar on her hip nicely. She’d worn it to the beach earlier in the summer. “Why not? I only bought it last year. It looks fine to me.”

  Before answering, Kristen came over, grabbed it, and stuffed it back into the drawer under the pile of underwear. “Because it’s a granny suit.” She riffled through the drawer and pulled out the white bikini buried at the bottom. “This is what you should wear.” She held the swimsuit up.

  Jen eyed the bikini. Her last boyfriend had bought it for a cruise they took together. She’d worn it then to make him happy, but she’d been uncomfortable every time. Now she only wore it if she was lying out alone in her fenced-in backyard and working on her tan. She grabbed the bikini and tossed it back in the drawer where it belonged. “Yeah, no way am I wearing that today.” She walked to her bed and grabbed the two tankinis from the pile. “How about one of these?”

  “I still think the white one is the way to go, but go with the red one. It’s better than all the frumpy one-piece suits you have.”

  She liked to swim and made a point to visit the gym at least twice a week to get in some laps. Modest one-piece bathing suits were ideal for that. “They’re not frumpy. They’re practical.”

  “Whatever you say, as long as you leave them all buried at home today,” Kristen said.

  Jen stuck her tongue out in her sister’s direction before carrying her clothes into the master bathroom. Most of the beaches she visited had changing facilities. Some even had shower stalls. She had no idea where Brett planned to go this morning, so just in case there was no place to change, she’d wear her suit under her clothes. The sundress she’d chosen dried quickly, so if she had to put it over a damp swimsuit later, it wouldn’t be a big deal.

  “What else are you doing today?” Kristen’s voice carried through the closed door.

  Excellent question. If Brett had other plans for them, he hadn’t shared them with her. She hadn’t asked in any of the numerous text messages they’d exchanged since their meeting earlier in the week either. Instead she’d avoided the topic of today’s outing altogether, because even thinking about it made the excited knot in her stomach grow exponentially.

  “No clue.”

  Through the door she heard the doorbell ring, followed by Bo’s bark. “Shoot, what time is it?” She’d left her watch on the nightstand.

  “A few minutes before nine.”

  Already? She’d known it was getting close, but she thought she had a little more time. “Can you get the door for me?”

  “I’m on it.”

  “Tell him I’ll be right down,” she said, although she wasn’t sure if Kristen heard.

  In the past, she’d mentally roll her eyes when she saw women at the beach or pool wearing makeup. This morning she joined their ranks and applied both foundation and lip gloss. Half the fun of visiting the beach was swimming, and she intended on doing some today. Since she’d prefer to not resemble a raccoon at any point during the day, she skipped the mascara and eye shadow.

  “Don’t ramble today,” she said to the reflection in the mirror. “And avoid staring at his lips.”

  More than once she’d caught herself doing that very thing while he spoke. Considering the man had a gorgeous mouth, it was hard to keep from staring. The final time she’d done it in the parking garage, she’d almost kissed him. She’d stopped herself in the nick of time. Well, more or less stopped. Most would consider the peck on the cheek she’d given him a kiss, but at least it wasn’t the type of kiss she’d given him later in her dream. Kissing wasn’t all they’d done in her dream either. She couldn’t remember ever having such an erotic dream in her life. Just thinking about it now made her face warm.

  She found Kristen and Brett in the living room chatting away like long-lost siblings. No matter the person or situation, Kristen could carry on a conversation with them. Since her sister worked in sales, it came in handy. Despite whatever conversation they were having, Brett stood when she entered the room.

  “Sorry, I’m running a little behind this morning,” she said.

  Unlike when he greeted her Tuesday night, this morning he gave her a brief hug and a brotherly kiss on the cheek, causing her heart to jerk wildly in her chest.

  “I’m in no rush. Take your time,” he said.

  Behind him, Kristen gave her a thumbs-up before petting Bo, who had jumped on the sofa near her.

  “I’m all set.” She glanced back at her sister. “Bo’s leash is in the kitchen.” With no idea how late she’d be back, she’d asked Kristen to take the dog for the night.

  Considering whom the man called family, she expected an Italian sports car worth more than her house to be in the driveway. Instead, a jet-black Corvette was parked behind her sister’s new minivan.

  Before she could do it, Brett opened the passenger door. “If you give me your bag, I’ll throw it in the trunk with mine.”

  “This car has a trunk?” Corvettes always caught her eye on the road and in parking lots. Although gorgeous vehicles, she assumed they didn’t provide their owners with much empty space.

  He nodded and held out his hand. “It’s not big, but it’ll hold what we need today.”

  Brett waited until she sat before he closed the door. In the side mirror she watched him walk to the back of the car. Tuesday night he’d worn khakis and a polo-style shirt. She thought he’d looked good then. Somehow today, dressed in cargo shorts that hugged his ass and a plain gray T-shirt, he looked even better. Images from her erotic dream surfaced and heat washed over her.

  No, no, no. She squeezed her eyes closed. Carrying on a conversation would be impossible if she kept envisioning the man naked and making love to her.

  Warmer air filled the car, and she opened her eyes as Brett got behind the wheel.

  “Did that tree come down during the storm last weekend?” Brett turned the key and the powerful car roared to life.

  Jen looked in the direction of where her new shed had been. Now the tall oak tree, which had come down during the storm with enough force to rip the roots from the ground, was on top of it.

  “
Yeah, but better my shed than the garage or house. I have a tree company coming this week to take care of it.” If the tree had landed on her garage, it would’ve damaged her new Mustang. She’d lusted after one for years, and after getting her promotion, she’d traded in her Mazda and bought one. She hated the monthly car payments but loved the car.

  Brett shifted into reverse and backed into the street. “You should’ve told me. I would’ve brought my chainsaw today and taken care of it for you.”

  She watched him shift into first gear, and itched to ask him for a chance to drive. Unlike a lot of people, she drove a standard. Dad had made sure he taught all his children how, and although her previous car had been an automatic, when she bought her new one, she’d made sure to get a standard. While shifting during rush traffic was a pain, she found driving a standard to be a lot more fun, especially on deserted side roads. And she knew driving this car would be an absolute blast.

  She tore her eyes away from his hand as images from the recent dream he’d starred in resurfaced. “You own a chainsaw?” Dad owned every power tool imaginable, including a drill press, and even he didn’t own a chainsaw.

  He nodded. “I didn’t lose any trees but a lot of large limbs came down during the storm. I bought one to take care of them. Spent a few hours Thursday cutting them up. I found it oddly satisfying, and now I’ve got some firewood for the winter.”

  “Next time I’m in the need of tree work, I’ll call you.”

  ***

  He didn’t own a home in Newport. As much as he loved the beach and the area, he saw no reason to purchase one anytime soon either, because many of his relatives already had houses there. Since they did, today he planned to take advantage of it. After his meeting with Carl Filmore, his new campaign manager, earlier this week, he’d driven to his brother’s house and picked up the key to Curt’s beach house. While Newport had more than its share of beautiful public beaches, Curt’s place had access to a private beach. His brother’s house also offered them many amenities a public beach wouldn’t, such as a fully stocked kitchen and a gas grill.

  Brett passed the Tennis Hall of Fame and turned left. He’d visited the gated community were both his brother and his cousin’s houses were a handful of times. While it could be reached a few different ways, from what he remembered, this was the most direct route, even if it did mean driving through the heart of the city.

  From the passenger seat, Jen finished telling him about the camping trip she’d gone on with her Girl Scout troop in July. So far on the ride down they’d covered a wide range of topics, including work, his new house, and her niece’s recent birthday party. Not once during the drive had they lapsed into an awkward silence, and Jen never dominated the conversation. More often than he’d care to admit, both situations arose when he took the time to date. It was just one of the reasons he didn’t do it often.

  He shifted into first gear and turned right. Reaching the security gate, he punched in the code Curt had given him and waited for the gates to open, causing Jen to stop speaking midsentence.

  “Did you decide to skip the beach today?” she asked.

  “Nope.” He drove through the entrance and down the tree-lined street. The community consisted of six homes. Curt’s was the last one on the street.

  “Maybe beaches look different in Virginia, but this looks like a private neighborhood, not a beach area.”

  He passed by his cousin’s place. Derek and his wife spent most of their time at their house here, but they still owned an apartment in Providence as well. He’d called him yesterday but had only gotten Derek’s voice mail. “We’re going to my brother’s house. This community has access to its own private beach.”

  Brett reached the last house and pulled into the driveway. “By coming here, we have some privacy and the use of my brother’s kitchen.” Unable to open the garage door from his car, he parked in the driveway. “Unless you object, I planned to grill us lunch. Later we can maybe go to the Red Parrot for a drink.”

  “Or Pirate’s Cove for ice cream,” Jen said.

  He couldn’t remember the last time he’d visited Pirate’s Cove. Whenever he’d come to Newport in the summer as a kid, he’d visited the popular ice cream and mini golf facility with his brother and sister and cousins. He didn’t think he’d been there since high school.

  “I haven’t thought of that place in years.” Brett opened his car door and walked around to the passenger side. When he got there, she’d already opened her door.

  He held out his hand anyway. She hesitated for a second but then accepted it. “We went last summer when we brought Bella down to see the Tall Ships. It was the first time I’ve been in a few years. Personally, I think they have the best ice cream. I wish they sold it in stores,” Jen said. “Actually, maybe it’s better they don’t. I’d be eating it all the time.”

  Brett opened the trunk and pulled out his bag first. Before he could grab Jen’s bag, she did it herself and slipped the straps over her shoulder. “I would’ve gotten it for you.” He might not play the role of a perfect gentleman every day, but he knew how it was done. Both Dad and his uncles had made sure of it.

  “No need. I got it.”

  He’d learned though their numerous communications that she was independent and preferred to do things for herself. Rather than risk annoying her this morning, he let the matter go and closed the trunk.

  “Whatever you want to do while we’re down here is fine with me,” Brett said.

  The inside of the house looked unchanged from his last visit, with one exception: the brown teddy bear lying on one of the blue-and-white-striped chairs. During their visit, Curt mentioned he’d brought his girlfriend and what turned out to be her niece down recently. He wasn’t a relationship guru, but after watching his younger brother interact with his girlfriend both at their cousin’s house and then again this week, he expected Curt to be making a trip to the altar soon. When he did, it would leave his cousin Alec and him as the only two unmarried Sherbrooke men. He didn’t know how, but most of the females in the family had somehow avoided it so far. Of the six Sherbrooke women, only two were married.

  “There’s a bathroom off the hall.” Brett pulled open the blinds covering the glass doors. “The kitchen is through there.” He pointed over his shoulder before sliding the doors open and allowing in fresh ocean air.

  “Now this is a view.” Rather than head for the bathroom, she came to stand alongside him. “Why doesn’t your brother live here all the time?”

  As he watched the waves roll onto the beach, he wondered the same thing. “Because he’s an idiot.”

  Jen nudged him in the side, the first contact she’d instigated so far today. “You’ve talked about your brother enough, so I know you don’t mean that.”

  She spoke the truth. In the beginning, he hadn’t spoken much about his family. All too often people couldn’t look past his last name and who resided on his family tree. Eventually, it’d been natural to share such details though. And she’d shared plenty of personal information as well, even sometimes telling him about the men she dated. Although as far as he knew, she hadn’t been with anyone in a long time—at least, she hadn’t mentioned going out with anyone in roughly ten months.

  “Curt likes renovating old homes. This spring he bought one up in New Hampshire. It’s maybe ten or fifteen minutes over the Massachusetts border.” Curt had finished up a few homes before, and each time he’d sold them afterward and moved on. Brett knew his brother wouldn’t be selling this one. “His girlfriend lives next door, so it’s more convenient for him to live up there than here.”

  “Proximity does make relationships easier,” Jen said.

  “Wouldn’t know, but I’ll take your word for it.” His longest relationship ever had lasted six months while he’d been stationed in Texas. It’d ended long before he’d been deployed.

  “I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to feel some sand between my toes. And I already have my bathing suit on.”

 
; “Feel free to head down. I’ll be right out.”

  Brett found her on a beach towel large enough for two full-grown men to use at once. He paused in his approach and watched her apply sunscreen to her right leg. She started at her ankle and moved her hands up, similar to the way he’d touched her in his dream. In his dream though, he hadn’t used hands. Instead he’d used his lips and tongue, moving up over her thigh and not stopping until he reached between her legs. Then he’d proceeded to pleasure her until she called out his name. He’d woken up hard and extremely uncomfortable Tuesday night. The dream had made a repeat performance last night.

  He dropped the cooler he’d brought down before taking a seat. His eyes roamed across her bare legs. “Need any help?” He wasn’t above applying sunscreen if it meant getting his hands on her naked skin.

  “Can you get my back?” She looked at him, but the sunglasses she’d slipped on hid her eyes from him. He understood why she’d put them on, but he’d prefer to see her eyes. Eyes told you a lot about what a person was thinking and feeling. With hers covered, he found himself at a disadvantage.

  She held the sunscreen toward him. “I’ll return the favor,” she said.

  Jen’s bathing suit top tied around her neck, leaving much of her back and shoulders bare. A dusting of freckles covered her shoulders, and he wondered if she had some anywhere else. The modest swimsuit covered more than it revealed, a definite downside as far as he was concerned.

  His hands glided over silky skin, and he took his time covering her shoulders. Before she became suspicious or complained he was taking too long, he moved his attention to her back and then lower across her spine.

  She sighed before turning around to look at him. Brett’s gazed focused on her lips. “Your turn.” She moved into a kneeling position and waited for him to turn.

  In the parking garage, she’d moved before he could kiss her. With her lips locked in his sights again, he intended to reach his target this time.