Torn_An Alpha Billionaire Romance

by Tristan Vaughan

  "Which one of you?" Riley asked. "The Landon I met at The Sand Dollar or the Landon Michel I saw at the gala?"

  I winced. "I lied to you when we first met. Not an outright lie about who I am, but I omitted information I should have told you. I'm sorry, Riley. It was nice to meet you without everything else hanging over my head, and I should have been more honest."

  She sipped her wine. "How about we start over? My name is Riley Cullen."

  "Landon. Landon Michel. Nice to meet you," I reached for her hand and she squeezed my fingers again.

  "Not that this is the start to anything," Riley said.

  I didn't let go of her hand but pulled her closer. "No, that's not the start of something…but this might be."

  I slipped my hand into her tousled hair and tugged her closer. Her lips parted in protest, but I caught them softly against mine. She struggled for a fraction of a second, and I pulled away. “This okay?” I asked, needing to be certain.

  After a long moment, she nodded.

  I pulled her close again and brushed my lips across hers, letting my tongue taste her.

  The heat was there despite the awkwardness, the chilly wind from the ocean, and her restraint. Riley leaned back to take a deep breath, her brown eyes swimming like rich, dark coffee grounds. Then she leaned forward and poured herself into our kiss.

  It felt as if the tide had come crashing in over me. Riley tasted of salty sea air, the bright cherry notes of the wine, and a spice that fired my hunger. The kiss consumed us until the cool spray of a wave settled over us.

  "You should walk me home," Riley said, then she frowned. "Not in that way. My apartment building is just along the beach there."

  I blinked away the brief, tantalizing vision of going home with Riley in time to see a photographer approaching. Damn paparazzi. I held out my hand and helped her jump down from the rock ledge. We sipped our wine as we walked along the edge of the wet sand.

  "I'm sorry our normal, casual date didn't work out," I said.

  Our shoulders brushed as she walked close to me. "I suppose it was normal for you. All those people spotting you and whispering about you. Does that happen wherever you go?"

  I took a large swig of wine and stopped to pour us more. "Apparently my cousin has built up our brand enough that I’m recognized worldwide. Too bad the combination of fame and philanthropy is killing my love life."

  "Maybe it's just you."

  I looked up and caught the tease glowing in her dark eyes. "How about you, then? Having fun crushing the fantasies of undergraduates?"

  Riley's laugh had a grim edge. "I haven't had that many successful dates."

  "So you might say yes if I ask you out again?"

  She swirled the wine in her glass and led the way farther down the beach toward her apartment building. "What about your busy schedule? Aren't you flying out of Santa Cruz for the next big thing?"

  "Nothing I can't reschedule." I hoped she didn't hear the doubt in my own voice. Lyla would slash me to ribbons when she found out I planned to chuck her itinerary.

  "That's me, on the second floor," Riley said. She nodded up to the apartment, then her eyes made a nervous sweep of the beach.

  "No lights on. Isn't your roommate home?" I asked.

  "Anna's working at the research lab until her internship starts. She's monitoring some experiment overnight," Riley said. She wrapped one arm around her waist and sipped at her wine. "I didn't know you could see in the windows so easily from the beach."

  "Why would that bother you? There's no one out here." But even as I said it, I felt like someone was watching us. Damn paparazzi. "How about you let me walk you to the door?"

  Riley nodded and picked her way over the sand dune to the sidewalk next to her building. I looked for the beat-up car I had seen earlier, but it was gone and Owen was nowhere in sight. Riley hadn't said anything about her ex-boyfriend despite me witnessing their short confrontation when I picked her up.

  Her lips were pursed as she glanced all around the parking lot. She wasn't about to admit her ex bothered her.

  I cleared my throat and checked out my scuffed shoes. "Riley? Can I ask you for a favor?"

  Her lips, darkened by the kiss and the wine, curved into a skeptical smile. "What favor could I possibly do for you? Don't you have people on staff for whatever you need?"

  I groaned. "Forget it. You'll think I'm a creep, anyway."

  She eyed me curiously. "What favor?"

  "I don't want to stay at my hotel. The suite is gorgeous and everything's perfect, but I hate it there. Hotel rooms are so sterile, so sad. Would it be okay if I crashed on your couch?"

  Riley laughed. "You can't be serious! Our saggy, secondhand couch? No way. Landon Michel doesn't crash on couches."

  "How about the Landon you met at The Sand Dollar?"

  She considered that, her expression getting softer as if she finally recognized me. "I'm not the kind of girl that invites dates back to 'crash' on the couch."

  A man appeared around the corner from the beach wearing jogging gear and singing along to his music. Riley jumped, then recovered from the jolt and looked around the parking lot again.

  “Is something bothering you?” I asked.

  “No,” she said. “It’s a safe place. It’s just weird being able to see into my apartment from down here. I had no idea. It’s creepy.”

  "Let me stay, then. I'll be good. I just want to stay somewhere normal tonight. I'll even pay hotel rates. The same rate you left for Andrew?"

  "All right. Just one night.” She smiled.

  “But I bet you change your mind when you see our couch."

  Chapter Eleven

  Riley

  The ray of sunlight was a surprise and I hid my face in my pillow. Then I remembered last night and giddy butterflies in my stomach woke me up.

  It had taken hours to fall asleep, just knowing that Landon was on the lumpy couch in the living room of our cramped apartment. I had swung between embarrassed and thrilled for hours, so the fact that I had actually fallen asleep was a shock.

  I had tossed and turned, wanting to invite him into my room. I had wondered what it would feel like to have his skin pressed up against my mine. I wanted to feel my ass pressed up against the bend in his waist as he held me, his strong arms pulling my in close. I wanted to feel all of him. It wasn’t even about the sex, that I’m sure would have been incredible.

  Anna's cat had batted open my bedroom door, leaving a narrow view of the living room. There, Landon stood up and stretched in the bright morning sunlight. It fell across his muscled chest and my fingers tingled with jealousy. If only I could sweep my hands across his tanned skin.

  Whoa, Riley. Calm it down.

  I buried my face in my pillow again as my cheeks burned.

  He was eventually going to put a shirt on so I sneaked one more glance —it would be a crime not to look. He clasped his bare shoulders and stretched one arm at a time across his body. His abdomen rippled and my mouth went dry. It had to be a sin to be so hot and so rich. How could it not go to his head? It certainly went to mine.

  Done stretching, Landon went barefoot and bare-chested into the kitchen. I cringed thinking what he would find, but he started to whistle an easy tune. He cursed about the coffeemaker for a moment before giving up and putting our old, red kettle on the stove. Then I heard sounds of him rummaging around in the refrigerator.

  My brain yelped about being a good hostess, but my body luxuriated in the sliver of the view I had of a half-naked man cooking. Finally, when he turned back to the stove, I struggled out of bed. I paused in the middle of my room when I heard Anna's keys in the front door.

  "Oh, sorry. Excuse me." Anna probably meant to turn right around, but her eyes were fastened to Landon's bare shoulders.

  "Good morning. We never officially met the other day. I'm Landon Michel." He brushed his hands off on our dingy towel and strode to the front door to shake Anna's hand.

  “I’m Anna,” she said and gave him
a quick shy smile. She inched in the front door, and he gallantly closed it behind her. "I'm just going to…oh my god! This place is a mess. Just don't look!" Anna fluttered around aimlessly, grabbing things out of the clutter.

  "Are you kidding? I love it. Actual life everywhere I look. So much better than a sterile hotel suite," Landon said.

  "Um, thanks. Yeah, you're welcome to stay as long as you want." Anna backed across our small living room and cracked her shin on the coffee table. "Ouch. Yeah, I'm just going to go talk to my roommate."

  She whipped into my room and shut the door behind her. When she saw me frozen stupidly in place, she clapped both hands over her mouth to stifle her laughter.

  "I'm such an idiot!" she whispered. "I freaked out and almost fell on my face. Landon Michel in our apartment?"

  I shushed her even as my own giggles spilled out. "Shh, these walls are so thin. He can probably hear us whispering."

  "I knew you two went to dinner at Scupper's, but I had no idea it went this far. Nice work, Ms. Cullen," Anna said.

  "No! Nothing happened!” I covered my mouth, astonished at how it looked, but secretly I loved the idea of exactly how it had looked. “He just didn't want to go back to his hotel. Wait, how did you know where we had dinner?" I grabbed a white linen shirt from my closet and tugged it on.

  Anna shook her head and forced me out of the white shirt. "It's major gossip. All of Santa Cruz is talking about the billionaire playboy and the local girl."

  "Everyone heard?" I took the dark blue sundress she held out.

  "Everyone. People said you two looked pretty cozy on the patio. Did you lean together over the small table, holding hands?"

  I whipped around with the sundress still undone. "No. I mean, maybe we leaned. No, wait, he did take my hand when we decided to leave."

  Anna grinned. "I heard about that, too. Took a bottle of wine and skipped out over the sand dunes. Very romantic."

  "Oh my god, is everyone really talking about it?"

  "Yup. Owen got into it with some guys down at the bar when they mentioned it." Anna zipped up my dress and selected a pair of gold hoop earrings for me.

  I plucked a white cardigan from the closet. "Nothing happened."

  Anna slapped the demure sweater out of my hands. "Nothing? He didn't want to share you with the dinner crowd, so he bought the wine and ran away with you for a romantic walk on the beach. How is that nothing?"

  "It was romantic." I snapped my jaw shut, shocked I had said it out loud.

  "And it'll keep being romantic if you get out there. He's cooking something, for god's sake. Without a shirt on!"

  Anna shoved me toward the bedroom door, but I dug my heels in. "I just woke up. My hair!"

  "He just woke up too. All rumpled and gorgeous. Jesus! If you don't get out there, I will."

  My bedroom door slammed behind me, and Landon looked up from his chopping. "Good morning. I hope I didn't overstep by starting breakfast. Do you like omelets?"

  "You don't need to cook. You're my —our—guest," I stammered.

  Landon grinned but kept chopping. "The only thing I didn't do was start the coffee. I don't know how to use your machine there."

  I shuffled toward the kitchen, not sure I could trust myself that close to his golden bare skin. "You don't know how to use a coffeemaker?"

  "Normally I have French press coffee." He gave me a pained smile. "I really hope that didn't sound snobby. French press is easy and quick."

  I edged into the kitchen and found a fresh coffee filter. Landon joined me at the tiny counter and watched as I measured out pre-ground coffee with a cracked tablespoon. "Sorry we don't have a grinder, but I think this stuff is still pretty fresh."

  Both my brain and mouth were failing. Landon was at least five inches taller than me, and if I turned around I would be face to face with that chiseled chest. How was I supposed to resist pressing a kiss to the warm skin above his heart? The thought made my blood roar in my ears.

  "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

  Landon chuckled. "I'm not usually a morning person. Must be the sun here in Santa Cruz. The fog likes to hang around longer at Michel's Beach."

  I tried to focus. "Yeah, um, it's already feeling really warm. I mean, too bad it's so sunny. Now you can see what a dump you stayed in last night."

  Landon spun me around, his large hands brushing my arms. Anna had been right about losing that cardigan. He paused for a moment and his thumbs rubbed back and forth.

  "I love your apartment. Everything is within reach. It doesn't feel like home if you have to search miles of rooms before finding another living person. Speaking of other people —Anna, would you like an omelet?"

  Anna froze near the front door and then turned around as if she had not just been tiptoeing out. "That's nice of you, but I really should get out of your way, I mean, get going."

  "Nonsense, Riley will set the table for three. Do you mind?" he asked me.

  I shook my head and slipped past him to another cupboard. I searched for three matching plates. There was no time to run the dishwasher. It had sat full of dirty dishes for two days. Not that we had a full set of dinnerware even when all the dishes were clean. Landon was used to white linen tablecloths and a wide array of perfectly polished silverware. I found two white plates with a cobalt design around the edges and one ceramic plate covered with a cherry blossom pattern.

  When I turned around, Landon was right behind me and I stumbled. He caught me around the waist and steadied me, but even the slight pressure from his hands made me dizzy.

  "See? I like this kitchen. Intimate," Landon said.

  The low timbre of his voice rubbed over me and I fought the urge to purr. I sucked in a quick breath and said, "Glad you like close quarters because the table's a tight fit."

  Our cottage dining table sat pressed up against the kitchen island. When I pointed it out, Landon helped me pull it out into the living room. Anna rushed to kick stacks of textbooks out of the way.

  "This is perfect," Landon said. He marveled at the table's hinged leaves that folded up to make it a small circle.

  We only had two real chairs, so I plopped down on the folding chair and hoped Landon didn’t notice. He had turned back to the stove.

  Behind his back, Anna bugged her eyes out at me and then fanned herself. I made a weak attempt to shoo her out the door, but it was good to have my roommate there. If I didn't have a chaperone, I would have been in the kitchen taste-testing the chef. Anna must have read my mind because she couldn't smother her delight.

  "Where did you learn to make omelets?" I asked loud enough to cover Anna's giggle.

  "The kitchen's always the heart of a home even if that home stretches over multiple acres." Landon lifted the skillet and folded the omelet with one neat flick of his wrist. "I was allowed to sit at the counter while our chef worked, as long as I did my homework."

  Landon slipped the omelet onto a plate, and neatly cut it in three. He handed me the plate over the kitchen island, and then leaned back to put the skillet in the sink.

  "Is this why they call small apartments 'efficiencies?'" he asked.

  Before I could answer, his phone buzzed. Landon grabbed it from the coffee table, looked at the message, and scowled.

  "This is amazing," Anna said with her mouth full. "I can't believe Landon Michel just made us breakfast!"

  I took a bite and savored the creamy combination of red peppers, mushrooms, and cheese he had mixed in the center. "You must have done more than homework in that kitchen because this is delicious," I said.

  Landon's smile was quick and sad. "Thanks. It's too bad you're so surprised. Cooking is such a wonderful, normal thing. That's why I love it. I don't get to cook very often, but it makes me feel like, I don't know, a real person."

  "A normal, wonderful thing?" Anna scoffed. "We'll see if you say that when Riley cooks for you."

  "Hey! My grandfather loved my cooking," I said.

  "Your grandfather loved you," Anna laughed. "The
last time she made me dinner, what was it? Lasagna. I thought it was some sort of tomato stew."

  "Like you're some gourmet. The last time you cooked, it was waffles. The kind you make in the toaster," I said.

  Anna grinned and swatted me. "So, really, we should be thanking you again, Landon. Without this breakfast, it's likely we would have starved today."

  "I can make lasagna," Landon said. "Though I can't really take credit for how good the omelets taste. I used fresh herbs from the windowsill."

  "That's Riley," Anna said. "She's got the greenest thumb I've ever seen. I didn't even know oregano came in non-flake form."

  Landon smiled. "Is that Thai basil?"

  I nodded but Anna interrupted. "She's also growing regular basil, thyme, sage, lemon grass, cilantro, and what are the tall green things?"

  "Scallions," I said.

  "Now that's gourmet," Landon said. He tipped his phone over, scowled at the message, and pressed it back onto the table. "You know, you should come talk to my friend. I've been bugging him to put in a vegetable garden at the estate, but he's stalling. Says he doesn't know what to plant."

  "Your friend?" I asked.

  Landon shrugged. "He's also my head gardener. You'll like him."

  I choked on my last bite of delicious omelet. "Your head gardener doesn't need advice from me. I'm a total novice. I'm still in Botany 101. Oh my god! Botany! I'm going to be late for class." I jumped up from the small table and knocked my knees, rattling the plates.

  "Riley." Anna was amused at my nervous explosion.

  "Sorry, I don't mean to be rude. Do you want a lift back to your hotel suite?" I asked Landon.

  "Actually, I don't have anywhere to be for the next few days, so I'm not really in a rush," Landon said. He stood up and cleared the plates with a quick shuffle of his large hands. "Plus James is at the hotel if I need him."

  "James?" Anna asked with a hopeful lilt.

  "His driver," I told her. "What are you doing? Landon, you don't have to wash the dishes. I can do that when I get back from class. It's my turn."

  He chuckled. "I don't mind. I kind of like it. You can see the beach from your kitchen window."