The Hot Billionaires Box Set

by Nella Tyler

  “Well, you might need to practice that a little,” I replied, trying to sound convincing.

  “Yeah, I can’t do everything,” she admitted. “At least, not right away.”

  “Come on, let’s go get some brain food in you, Supergirl,” Michelle answered, returning to the kitchen.

  “That sounds good!” I answered as my stomach rumbled.

  “Yeah…after last night, I didn’t think I’d hear from you for a long time,” Michelle teased, her lips curling up with suggestion.

  “It was a fun night,” I replied, returning the smirk.

  “Why? What did you do?” Kassie asked, her small feet shuffling hastily behind us.

  “I…uh…” Before coffee and sufficient food, I was easily ensnared in the question and lost to the inability to speak the truth.

  Thankfully, Michelle came to my aid. “Aunt Jenna had a friend over last night. I thought they might have stayed up late.”

  “Did you eat lots of candy?” Kassie asked, her innocence gleaming through with magnificent valor.

  To be that genuine again, I thought with an inward sigh.

  “Yeah…as a matter of fact, Kassie, I did.”

  “Did it give you a stomachache?”

  “No. It was just the right amount,” I answered.

  “I think Aunt Jenna needs some coffee!” Michelle insisted, pouring the cup and pushing it into my hand, trying to figure out how to stop this conversation.

  “It was fun, but I think we need to eat before breakfast gets cold,” I said and decided it would be best not to say anything else until after we ate.

  When Kassie was finally done, after the normal mealtime bargaining, I turned toward my sister, practically dying to tell her. “That girl…she doesn’t miss a trick.” Michelle grinned with pride. “Just like someone else I know.” Her eyes fell on me meaningfully as I laughed.

  “Yeah, well, I think she might be a little smarter than I ever was.”

  “That and she has an aunt who uses code words with about as much blatancy as if she told her exactly what happened.” Michelle playfully smacked my arm.

  “I’m sorry, I was excited. I wanted to talk to you.” I felt my cheeks redden and burn with embarrassment.

  “I’m just teasing you. So, hurry up, before she comes back! What the hell happened last night?”

  “Oh God, Michelle…” I replied, shaking my head in an attempt to explain myself. “We went to dinner and talked—”

  “Did you make him take you to get a cheeseburger?”

  “Yeah,” I offered earnestly, “I was starving and hadn’t had time to eat even fast food in months!”

  Michelle rolled her eyes. “Okay. Whatever. Fast-forward to the good part. Did your…friend go to your house?”

  “Yeah. That’s where we ended up.” I grinned, deviously, “I also started the first game…”

  “You?” Her eyes said far more than her words.

  “Yes. But he was quick to catch up. He was…very competitive.”

  “Satisfying?”

  I groaned, feeling weak in the knees, simply thinking about our night together. I closed my eyes and slid my hand across my forehead.

  “So, are you going to go to his house next time?” Michelle asked, drawing me out of my reminisce.

  I stared at her intently, with a seriousness etched deep in my expression. “No.” About this, I was adamant.

  “What?” She sounded completely surprised, as if she had no idea why I wouldn’t want to see him again. “If he was so wonderful—”

  I rolled my eyes, interrupting her and deciding that if she needed the explanation, I would spell it out for her.

  “Well, there’s a school of thought that says a memory is better than an experience. We had a great game. To the best of my knowledge, we are both satisfied. Why would we want to screw that up?”

  “Really? He was perfect, so you never want to…play a game with him again, because you feel that it won’t be as satisfying?” She narrowed her eyes. “Did you only like the game?”

  “No, it’s not that,” I answered quickly. “I think I liked him…almost as much as the game, and that is the problem.”

  When Michelle responded with a look of confusion, this time I was sure she wanted me to tell her more than I was revealing, but I wasn’t sure what to think.

  “Sure, I like him, but I don’t want to.”

  “Why? Do you think he…cheats at more than just games?”

  “I think his entire life is a game,” I answered honestly. “I called him out on it at dinner and he seemed to like it, in a way.”

  “Were things better after that?”

  “Much better, but that still doesn’t stop me from wondering if it was just another tactic.”

  Michelle shrugged. “I dunno. According to Gavin, his best friend Hayden thinks the world of him and no one can ever figure out why. When he left, everyone was mad at him, thinking he abandoned them, but Hayden said that wasn’t true…that Tim was destined for good things and that he would remember us.

  “When he did make it big, we found out that Hayden was right. Tim started to give to charities and help kids from around here to follow their dreams. The only reason Hayden and his family are still here is because they want to be. I have no doubt that he would do anything for his friend. Maybe you saw the real Tim Meck last night.”

  “Or an accurate portrayal,” I muttered, hating when she tried to dig deep. “Look, I’m not arguing that he wasn’t a good guy, but charity or not, the money has definitely gone to his head. He thinks I’m just some small-town girl without a future.”

  “You're a doctor,” Michelle insisted, doubting what I was trying to tell her, even before she fully understood the point I was making.

  “Being a doctor ‘round here, in this town, has probably earned a hair more respect than those girls he undoubtedly plays doctor with back home.”

  “You’re partially responsible for saving his father’s life. I think he has a little more respect than that for you.”

  “I guess that depends on how much respect he has for his father,” I retorted, promoting a dirty look from Michelle.

  She sighed and rolled her eyes. “What the hell is it with you? You think that every guy is just going to leave you. Some of them, you think you’re too smart for, some of them, you think you’re not good enough for…well, when are you going to find someone who is at your level?”

  She narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms stubbornly. “You said he was perfect and on that note, I thought you would be smart enough to realize that love is like that. Perfection in bed and a man you can actually get along with doesn’t come along as a package all that often. If he was real with you, even if he isn’t real with anyone else on the planet, is a big deal.”

  “Yeah, but Michelle, I don’t even know if he was being real. I think he was, but I don’t know him all that well.”

  “Then, why don’t you get to know him? Playing a perfect game with someone doesn’t mean you stop trying to reach Nirvana again! How do you think married people do it?”

  “It could be worse, and then that perfect memory is ruined.”

  “It’s not like you’re chasing the purple dragon, Jenna. Gavin and I play very well together. Now that Kassie is a little older and sleeps in her own big girl bed, we play together a couple times a week and it is wonderful. It keeps me sane.”

  “And…it’s always perfect?”

  “No! Of course not. Sometimes we both win, sometimes we lose, sometimes one of us wins and one of us loses, but that is real life and love. The…game is always fun regardless because you love the person you’re with.”

  “But he is your husband!” I insisted, attempting to stop her soap box speech before she started flat out telling me I had to marry the man. “You two are supposed to play, and it is great that you always enjoy it, but you have known one another for years! This was one play date.”

  “So? My point is that you shouldn’t stop yourself from having a
nother play date, simply because you’re afraid it won’t be as much fun!”

  “Yes, but Gavin isn’t going anywhere. I don’t want to get too attached to playing with him exclusively because he will go back to California and I will be devastated again.”

  “Maybe…” she answered, understanding now exactly what the issue was. For the first time, she looked at me with a sense of pity. She sighed and leaned closer. “How long is he going to be here?”

  “I don’t know,” I sighed. “A couple weeks, I guess.”

  “A lot can happen in a few weeks…” Michelle insisted.

  I snorted a laugh. “Sis, you have been reading far too many fairytales. Real life – especially for a female doctor in a small town – doesn’t work that way. I am just another notch in his belt, as he is in mine. It was wonderful, but it's over.”

  “I think you’re afraid that it isn't,” Michelle hissed, just as Kassie ran back in the kitchen.

  Thank God! I thought and turned around to greet her. “What's up, Supergirl?”

  Kassie giggled. “Can we go to the park?”

  “Sure!” I answered as I looked back at Michelle and she nodded.

  “Go get your shoes on and I’ll finish cleaning up.” She grinned.

  “Come on! I’m gonna get you!” I teased, taking off after Kassie as she let out a shrill laugh and ran away from me. I chuckled as I bolted after her, thankful for a distraction from this conversation.

  For the rest of the day, thankfully, Michelle didn’t bring Tim up again, but her words had their intended effect. I couldn't stop thinking about what she had said, no matter how much I did to put the whole conversation out of my head.

  Finally, toward the end of the day, I decided that while Michelle might have a point: it didn’t matter much. I was smart enough to know that no matter what, the first chance Tim Meck got to return to his life of luxury and esteem, he was going to jump at it.

  I had no doubt in my mind that was what would happen, regardless of how he felt about me, or how I felt about him. Therefore, the only thing I could do right now to save myself from devastation would be to remember the past, but cut all ties.

  I couldn’t see Tim again.

  That was final.

  As I was leaving Michelle’s house later that evening, my cellphone rang. I didn’t look at the screen until I reached my car. When I saw the name spread across the screen, my heart leapt, first with excitement, but soon thudded with lament.

  Of course, I wanted to meet him again and enjoy the throws of passion that I had experienced the night before, even if it did prove Michelle right. I wanted her to be right. The idea that such perfection could be repeated and perhaps even improved was almost unfathomable, but I desperately wanted it to be true.

  However, there was still the idea that he would leave. In the depths of my soul, I was sure that there was nothing – not even love, if it even came to that – that would make Tim Meck leave his world behind, and I refused to leave my town.

  Therefore, I ignored the call, deciding that it was for the best.

  Chapter 19

  Tim

  “Damn…” I muttered as I stared at my phone, moments after rolling over in bed. I was still completely confused as to why Jenna hadn’t answered my call or bothered to call me back.

  I was baffled. There had never been a moment in my entire life where a woman not only cut my company short, but then refused my phone call. Sure, I had my fair share of bitter women who wouldn’t call me back, or would call me simply to curse at me, but I had always had at least some kind of inclination what I had done.

  Yet, with Jenna, I found myself in completely new territory and I didn’t like it.

  Is she playing hard to get? I wondered, but within a few moments of thinking back to the passion that we had shared, I wondered why she had felt the need. I had gotten her. In fact, she had gotten me, taking control the way she had and therefore, I would have assumed she’d be pleased to hear from me. I could understand her trying to pull a power move by throwing me out, but why wouldn’t she answer my call?

  Had I not pleased her? Did she fake it? Again, the idea was short lived with the memory of what we had shared. It was raw, it was natural, and it was genuine. No. I refused to believe that dissatisfaction was any part of the reasoning behind her behavior.

  Briefly, I thought that perhaps an old girlfriend had gotten a hold of her and tried to scare her into avoiding me, but from what I knew about Jenna thus far, that didn’t seem likely.

  Stop obsessing over this! I told myself, rolling out of bed and groaning as I did so.

  I knew my father would be up soon and he was getting cocky.

  The day before, I had caught him trying to go out to the shed to get some tools. I had no idea what he thought he was going to do with them since he was still lugging his cast and trying to pretend that his back didn’t hurt, but it wouldn’t have ended well. I was happy I caught him, but knew it was only a matter of time before he started to strike out on his own and was successful.

  When I’d caught him, he gave me hell about not being able to do anything and again, I felt as though our roles had reversed. Never wanting children, I was particularly aggravated by this feeling and tried to explain this to him.

  My father simply grumbled, cursed at me under his breath and stubbornly limped back to his recliner. He hadn’t said a word to me the rest of the day – not that it was abnormal, but knowing there was actually a reason was annoying, especially since I was only trying to help.

  Finally, I thought about insisting that I was only doing this to help him, but stopped when I realized that the own good speech would only be more awkward for us both. It certainly wouldn’t solve anything. He was far too dead set on being an asshole for any genuine argument I had to make a difference. I rolled my eyes and grumbled, thinking about how my father was sure to hold a grudge.

  Yet, I had made a commitment to him and for my own sake, I didn’t want to go back on that. I was going to see it through, so that no matter what the feelings he held for me were, I wouldn’t have an inkling of guilt.

  With that in mind, I went downstairs and got my father’s medicine together. I set it on the kitchen table, started his coffee, and walked back to his bedroom. When I walked in, he was sitting up in bed, his eyes downcast, his jaw locked. He narrowed his eyes, and he shook his head.

  “Good morning, Pop. How are you feeling this morning?”

  He stared back up at me, as though his silence should speak volumes. Unfortunately, it didn’t. I was no closer to knowing whether he was better or worse than when I walked into the room. I wondered, somewhat lamenting, if we had been closer, would I know? Should I know?

  This thought aggravated me, since I was trying my best, and I growled.

  “Fine. Don’t answer me, but if you’re getting worse instead of better, don’t blame me if you end up back in the hospital. At least you’re not too stubborn to talk to people there.”

  I felt a surge of anger wash through me when he looked away again. I gritted my teeth and narrowed my eyes, but refused to say anything more to him. I helped him out of bed, brought him to the kitchen table, and made him breakfast.

  Silence consumed the house. The only audible exception was the creaking and the grandfather clock that chimed every fifteen minutes. Normally, I became deaf to the chime – more as a survival tactic to maintain my sanity – but with the otherwise deathly silence, each chime ground deeper into my aggravation.

  I was tired of trying to work everything out. I was tired of thinking, assuming, and trying to be the good fucking son that everyone seemed to be sure I was incapable of being.

  I didn’t like this feeling. It sucked and I had absolutely no idea how to remedy it.

  Finally, I decided that I needed to get away. After all, my father was going to do whatever the hell he pleased anyway, so there wasn’t much of a point trying to watch his every move. Besides, given another hour, I might have chucked my father’s grandfather cloc
k out the window to let out my frustration.

  “Hey, Dad…if you’re okay today, I am gonna go fishing with Hayden. I need some time to myself.”

  My father simply nodded but didn’t say a word. Being that the bacon and eggs had seemed to help return color to his face, I felt better about leaving him.

  “Now, don’t you dare do anything stupid. No going to your shed. No trying to do anything that you know you shouldn’t. I’ll make you a sandwich and leave it in the fridge, and please be careful going to the bathroom.”

  Again, I felt as though I was leaving instructions for the child I never wanted, instead of for my father, but I tried to ignore the idea. That was the last thing I needed. My father only nodded and stared at me for a moment before returning to his food. Once he was finished, I helped him to his recliner and set him up with the television. I told him that if he needed me for any reason, to call me.

  I doubted he would, but short of dragging him along with me, I could think of nothing else to do. I needed to get out – for both of us. The silence and the underlying hostility in the house were driving me crazy.

  After he was all set up and I was fairly certain that I couldn’t do anything else to make him comfortable, I left. There was no response when I called out goodbye.

  When I was in my rental car, I was finally able to take a breath of relief. I drove over to the hardware store, enjoying a peaceful silence devoid of unspoken resentment.

  Upon entering the old, well-stocked staple of the Southern town, it didn’t take me long to find Hayden. He was helping a young couple who had just bought their first house. I had a strange feeling that I was supposed to know who these people were, but I didn’t. I wasn’t introduced, though, so I figured it couldn’t be that important.

  “What brings you here, buddy?” Hayden asked, seeming genuinely interested in why I was there. “The toilet didn’t bust again, did it?”

  “Oh, no. Dude, you know your O-rings. Everything is fine with my toilet,” I chuckled.