Take Me Home_A Billionaire Protector Romance

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Take Me Home_A Billionaire Protector Romance Page 2

by Summer Brooks


  Unfortunately, I realized this after he’d dumped me.

  Sometimes, in my fantasies, I imagined that I’d done it differently. That I’d had the guts to realize what a toxic relationship it had become and that it wasn’t my job to stay “loyal” to him and try to “fix” him. I imagined that I had stood up to him and dumped him first, told him to get lost and that I was done with his shit.

  But, of course, it hadn’t gone that way at all. I’d been heartbroken, my trust shattered, as I’d realized that the guy to whom I’d given everything had turned around and dropped me like so much trash.

  “So, what’s a billionaire doing in an inner-city animal shelter?” I asked.

  “I plan on buying it,” Vincent told me nonchalantly as I sat down, like this was something all rich people did. Just went around buying things.

  Okay, so maybe that was exactly what all rich people did.

  “Buying it? Why, so you can bulldoze it?”

  “...so I can fund it,” Vincent replied slowly. “But I appreciate the vote of confidence.”

  “You’re welcome,” I said sweetly.

  Vincent arched his eyebrow and sat down in the booth. “I wondered what meeting you again would be like.”

  “Me, too,” I admitted. I didn’t tell him it involved slapping him across the face.

  Vincent cleared his throat. I hated that being near him still made my heart race. “So… How’d you end up working in the shelter?”

  “I went to college and realized that all those hours volunteering had had an effect on me. I wanted to do it for a living. I get to make a tangible difference.”

  “You always did want to help people.” Vincent smiled fondly.

  I shook my head. “Don’t do that.”

  “Don’t do what?”

  “Don’t act like you’re proud of me.” I was surprised to find my chest growing tight and I blinked rapidly to get rid of the hot, itchy feeling in my eyes. “You weren’t there when it mattered. You don’t get to come here now and play the hero.”

  “Play the hero?”

  “How long have you known I worked there?”

  Vincent stared at me, his eyes wide with genuine shock. “Gina, are you suggesting I’m only offering to help out the shelter because you work there? I had no idea you were there until just now. I’m going to shelters all over the city. It’s a part of my first step in starting a charitable foundation I can funnel my company profits into.”

  I couldn’t help but be curious. “How much of your profits?”

  “Fifty percent.”

  I nearly dropped my menu. “Vincent!”

  “What? I don’t need it.”

  “Your board’s going to pitch a fit.”

  “Well, of course they are. They all want to buy a third luxury yacht. But we’re all already richer than our wildest dreams, and I want to focus more on giving back.”

  “Who are you and what have you done with Vincent Carr?”

  Vincent shrugged. “I changed, a lot, after graduation. My mom died.”

  Oh. “Vincent. I’m so sorry.”

  He shrugged again, looking out the window. “It’s… not okay, but y’know. It put things into perspective.”

  “She wasn’t exactly mom of the year.”

  “No. And I wish she’d been there more for me. But I think she could tell how much I resented her. I wish I’d understood how much Dad’s affairs hurt her. I wish I’d been a bit more understanding, in general.”

  “It’s hard to understand things like that when you’re a kid,” I offered up. And we had been just kids. We’d thought we knew everything, that we were so old, so on top of the world. But really, we were just children trying so desperately to be adults and to feel some kind of control in our lives.

  “I’m not sure I share your views,” Vincent said wryly.

  The waitress chose then to make an appearance. We ordered, and then he resumed, “I officially found out about the affairs after Mom died, but I think I always knew. I think that’s why I was so angry.”

  I had the urge to reach out and take his hand. I ruthlessly stomped that down. I was angry at him, dammit, and I had a right to be. I could sympathize without falling back into old habits, no matter how easy those old habits might be.

  “Anyway, as time went on I… I came to realize how I’d misdirected my anger. How I’d just taken it out on everyone. Rebelled for the attention I wasn’t getting from my dad.”

  “Did a shrink tell you all of that?”

  “Nah. Guy I met in college, Darien. He became my best friend. Didn’t put up with my bullshit. He called me out on it. That and my mom…and you.”

  I blinked in surprise. Vincent’s eyes were boring into mine, soft and sad like those of a puppy. “I wasn’t there,” I pointed out. “And when I was there, I never called you out on your bullshit, I just went along with it. Because I was a teenager and stupid and in love with you.”

  I hadn’t meant to say that last part. I wanted to take it back. Sure, I’d said it plenty of times as a teenager and I’d meant it, the way that you always do when you’re a teenager and what you’re feeling in that moment is overwhelming and all you know. But that didn’t mean I had to admit to it now that I was older and hoping to bury that part of my life.

  Vincent ran his hand through his hair. At least that habit hadn’t changed. As he did, I caught a glimpse of one of his tattoos, peeking out from under his shirt cuff. I could still see them when I closed my eyes, could pick out every part of his body where they’d be, unless he’d gotten new ones.

  I found myself wondering if he had. If he’d ever gotten the tiger that he’d talked about, or the tree of life up his spine.

  Stop that, I told myself. I wasn’t supposed to care.

  “I didn’t think about it at the time,” Vincent admitted. “I was too focused on myself. But once I got to college and my mom died, I found myself missing you. You were always the person that I wanted to call. You were the one that I wanted to talk to when I was feeling lonely or struggling or lost, which was a lot of the time.

  “You were my anchor and I didn’t know it. And I realized how awful I’d been to you. I wanted to do something to make it up to you, but I didn’t know how to contact you. Your parents had moved and none of the high school people who’d talk to me knew where you’d gone to college or anything like that.”

  “Well, you’re here now.” I gestured at myself. “You said you were sorry. You’re buying me lunch. We’ll call it even, okay?”

  Vincent nodded. “You’re upset, and I get that. But c’mon, does one lunch in a diner really make up for all the shit that I put you through?”

  I sighed as our food arrived. “Vincent, the best thing you could do to make up for what you did is to go away again, all right? I pulled my life together without you.”

  “You’re working in a shelter. What’s your living situation? I know a realtor…”

  “Hell no. You are not buying your way out of an apology by getting me a—a penthouse apartment, or whatever. Seriously? No.” My fire was up in my blood. Mom always bemoaned the Italian in me, claimed it was responsible for my fiery temper. Dad said it could just as likely be his Irish side of the family. “You do not get to waltz in here and just shower me with money. If you really want to be in my life, then you can apologize by showing me the respect that you didn’t when we were dating, okay?

  “But we were kids, Vincent. Just kids. You were stupid, I was stupid. You apologized, I’ve forgiven you, we can move on.”

  “Doesn’t sound like you’ve forgiven me,” Vincent pointed out with a grin. He took my breath away a little when he smiled like that. “Not with how you’re acting, anyway.”

  “Then why are you smiling?”

  “Because I love it when you get feisty on me, or on anyone. I always have.”

  “Fantastic. Now maybe you should quit while you’re ahead and stay quiet for the rest of the meal. You’re easy on the eyes, but you ruin everything when you open y
our mouth.”

  A triumphant gleam entered Vincent’s eyes, and I realized what I’d said. “So you think I’m attractive?”

  “Of course you notice that part and not the part where I want you to shut up.”

  Vincent just kept grinning at me, like this was the greatest thing he’d seen all week. “I really did miss you.”

  “You sound like a sick puppy.”

  Vincent laughed. “You remember how much I wanted a dog growing up?”

  I smiled in spite of myself. “And you would beg me to sneak you into the shelter to play with the puppies? That’s how we met. I don’t think you would’ve noticed me otherwise.”

  “Of course I would have.” Vincent looked shocked. “I had a crush on you since you sat in front of me in homeroom. Didn’t you know?”

  “What?” All this time I thought he’d come to like me because I was the girl who could get him access to the puppies he so badly wanted. He’d already liked me?

  Vincent nodded. “Yeah. And why do you think I’m starting my charity with animal shelters? I want to help out the animals. Both for the kid I was and for you, and who you always wanted to be.”

  I’d completely forgotten about that aspect of things. Vincent had no idea what he was about to walk into. My world had been flipped upside down this morning, and I hadn’t even had time to process it before Vincent walked through the door in a few-thousand-dollar suit.

  I took a deep breath.

  “Vincent, you can’t be involved with the shelter.”

  “Is it because of our past?” he asked. “Because I promise, if it upsets you that much, I won’t be around. I want to be hands-on, but I can stay away, handle it all from afar if you want. I don’t want to disrupt the flow of the place or anything. Just pay for some renovations and then take care of the rent, that kind of thing. You won’t even know I’m involved.”

  I shook my head. “It’s not anything personal. I promise. As much as I dislike the idea of you being involved—and I have a right to be upset about that—our shelter needs money and I couldn’t possibly ask Maria to turn it down because you’re my ex from ten years ago.

  “It’s because our neighborhood was just put under new management. We found out this morning. As of today, our shelter and every other business on that street is owned by the mafia.”

  4

  Vincent

  I stared at Gina.

  No, “gaped” was probably a better word for it.

  The mafia was now in charge of the neighborhood? The neighborhood where Gina—the one person I wanted to take care of and keep safe— worked?

  No. Absolutely not.

  I stood up, yanking some cash out of my wallet and leaving it on the table. It was about a hundred bucks extra, but I figured it would make the waitress’s day. It was the thing that I really enjoyed about having money--I could leave enough in tips to cover, say, someone’s rent for the month.

  “Where are you going?” Gina asked, getting up.

  “Which mafia?” I asked.

  “Oh no.” Even after all these years, Gina could still read my mind. She ran around in front of me and planted her hands on my chest, stopping me. “You are not storming in there and demanding whatever the hell you’re planning to demand. This isn’t some dive bar, Vincent.”

  Lord knew Gina had been there enough times to see all the fights I’d gotten into. She knew when I was itching to teach somebody a lesson.

  I grabbed her wrists. “Nobody gets to just waltz in and take over like that.”

  “The mafia’s kind of known for doing that. I thought you said you’d changed, huh? That you weren’t that same hothead anymore? And now look at you. Ready to storm in and start fights just like you were then.”

  She snatched her hands away from me. Damn, I wanted to kiss her when she got all worked up like that. “You haven’t really changed. Not at all. Stay out of my business.”

  “It’s my business, too. I wanted to help out this shelter whether you were working there or not. It’s my responsibility to look into this. At least let me talk to your boss.”

  “And if you’d found out that the mafia now ran the neighborhood and I didn’t work there, would you still be ready to storm the castle? Or is that just because of me?”

  I honestly wasn’t sure. I liked to think that I would. But Gina had always sparked this fierce desire in me, not just to have her, but to protect her, too. I couldn’t be sure if this was just my sense of justice or if it was more because I was worried about her working in a neighborhood like that.

  My silence seemed to be answer enough for her. She nodded once, sharply, and then turned on her heel and left the diner.

  I hurried after her. “You need to stop working there. Find another shelter.”

  “And abandon Maria? This is all she has.”

  “What about when one of the men takes a liking to you, huh? What if one of them tries something? Those kinds of people don’t really hear the word ‘no.’”

  Gina snorted, still walking and pointedly not looking at me. “You’re a bit late for that.”

  My heart skipped a beat. “I’m what?”

  “One of them, I think a lieutenant of some kind, already seemed to like me.”

  I couldn’t tell if she was saying it just to spite me, but Gina wasn’t the type to lie—and when she did try, it had always been on my behalf and she’d been adorably terrible at it. Whether it was being said to rub it in my face or not, this was an actual thing that had happened.

  Shit.

  “I’m talking to your boss.”

  “No, you are not.”

  “Yes, I am. Try and stop me, if you really feel like it.”

  To her credit, she really did try. But while Gina was deliciously curvy, I worked out every day and I had the height advantage.

  Her boss, Maria, was definitely giving us a weird look when we entered the shelter again and Gina was valiantly holding onto my arm, trying to yank me back out the door.

  “Did you have a nice lunch?” Maria asked drily.

  I shook Gina’s hand off. She folded her arms and glared at me.

  “I heard that you came under new management this morning,” I said.

  Maria paled. “Um. Yes.” She shot Gina a warning glare.

  “Don’t blame her,” I said quickly. “Listen, I’d love to buy this place. Spruce it up. I’m sure that whatever I offer will be more than what they’ll get out of owning it.”

  Maria swallowed hard. I could tell she was afraid of those guys. I could understand that. But I had never met a guy that had gotten the better of me, and I wasn’t about to let that tradition change. Not when there was already one of them sniffing around Gina’s heels.

  I knew that I didn’t have a right to her. Not yet, anyway. I hadn’t admitted as much—although, she’d probably guessed—but I fully planned on trying to date her again.

  It was going to be difficult enough to win her over without having to deal with this mafia bullshit on top of it. Gina had always been stubborn when she’d wanted to be and I could see that hadn’t changed.

  “They’re going from door to door,” Maria said. “I think they’re down by the grocer’s right now. Just announcing their presence.”

  I nodded. “I’ll go see what I can do.”

  “Oh, no, you will not,” Gina insisted, storming after me as I headed down the street. “Why didn’t I pay more attention to Nona so I could yell at you in Italian, huh?”

  “Why would that even matter? I don’t speak Italian. My family’s Scottish.”

  “Yelling sounds more impressive in Italian.” Gina kept pace with me despite my longer gait. “Now turn around and drive away before you get yourself shot.”

  “I own a billion-dollar company. They’re not going to shoot me. It’d hardly be worth the effort.”

  “They don’t know who you are. I didn’t know who you were until you told me and you’re my ex-boyfriend.”

  I couldn’t resist. “Feel free to drop the ‘e
x’ part if you want.”

  Gina’s eyes blazed. “You son of a…”

  “Problem?” a slightly accented voice asked.

  I turned to see three men in front of me. Well, technically one man. The other two were hovering a few feet away. They had guns, all of them, three each. I could tell that Gina knew, too, from the way her shoulders stiffened.

  It looked like she remembered what I’d taught her about guns. I hated now that it had been necessary at the time. That I’d been so caught up in dangerous business that I’d needed to teach my girlfriend that shit. But now it was coming in handy. And, at the time, I’d thought it was cool.

  Yeah. I’d had a lot of my priorities backwards as a teen.

  I smiled, but not the charming smile I tended to use on clients. I knew those guys wouldn’t appreciate it. They’d feel like I was selling them something. Which I sort of was, but…

  “Hey, sorry to bother you. I’m Vincent Carr.”

  I thought the main guy, the one who’d spoken, recognized me. There was a flicker of interest in his eyes.

  “I was just going around town to purchase some animal shelters to fix up and make a part of my foundation. I came to this one and heard that you’re the guy to go to if I want to buy it?”

  The guy smiled at me. It was the kind of smile that made me want to punch him in the face. “I’m sorry. But that shelter is not for sale.”

  Gina gave me an I-told-you-so look. She was good at those.

  “Look, I know what you are and what your business is,” I said, lowering my voice. “I can give you more than twice what you’d make off of that place in a year. It’s practically a money pit.”

  The guy—who still hadn’t even bothered to give me his name—shook his head. His gaze flicked over to Gina, and there was no mistaking the flare of lust in his eyes.

  My hand instinctively curled into a fist and I had to resist the urge to punch him.

  “I’m afraid that we’ve developed an interest in the place,” the guy said.

 

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