Stripping the Billionaire

by Noelle Adams

  “Well, if you are, aim the other way.”

  This time, the sound Ben made was definitely a laugh. Then he kind of coughed and rubbed his face hard with both hands. “Oh, shit,” he muttered again. “What the hell am I even doing?”

  “I think you were going inside to say hello to everyone.” Harrison’s voice was lighter now, but still careful. “Assuming you still want to do so.”

  “I do.”

  Some sort of miracle had happened in the last eight months, the last two weeks, the last two hours, because Ben realized his words were actually true.

  ***

  Most of the others were gathered on one of the terraces that looked out onto the steep drop of the cliff into the Aegean.

  Ben greeted his mother. Then he greeted Andrew and Laurel and their three German Shepherds. And then Jonathan, as rumpled as ever, and a beaming, glowing Sarah, who gave him a huge hug like they were long-lost friends.

  His uncle, he was told, was in one of the rooms of the inn, getting some business done before the festivities began that evening.

  The wedding was going to be small and intimate, outside on a terrace at sunset, followed by a dinner the Greek couple who worked for the inn had been preparing all day.

  “You should go in and say hello to your uncle,” his mother said quietly, after all the greetings were over.

  “If he’s busy, I can talk to him later.” Ben didn’t feel resistance, exactly. Rather, it was reluctance, awkwardness, a strange kind of nerves.

  He’d set his uncle up as an enemy for six years now, and it was strange to think about that ever changing.

  Even if he wanted it to.

  His mother shook her head and gave him a little push. “Go talk to him now.”

  So Ben walked alone into the building she’d indicated and down the hall to tap on the closed door.

  “Come,” his uncle said brusquely through the door.

  The man never changed. He would always be that way. Formal. Impersonal. Holding the world and everyone in it to higher expectations than it could possibly live up to.

  But maybe Ben didn’t always have to be the same.

  He opened the door and stepped inside.

  His uncle had been on the phone, but as soon as he glanced over and saw Ben standing there, the hand with the phone lowered very slowly.

  Ben wasn’t even sure he’d hung up.

  Cyrus Damon stood up from the chair, staring at his nephew like he was an apparition or a dream.

  “Hi,” Ben said, feeling like an absolute fool. “Just letting you know I got here. If you’re busy, I can…”

  The words trailed off as his uncle stepped over toward him, breathing, “Benjamin.”

  Ben took a quick breath. “Yeah. It’s me.”

  “You came alone?”

  “Yes.”

  “You could have brought…” His uncle trailed off, very uncharacteristically. “I believe her name was Chelle. You could have brought her.”

  Ben blinked three times. Did his uncle really think he was still dating the tattoo artist he’d been seeing when they’d had the big blow-up? “I’m not with her anymore.”

  His uncle’s eyes widened. “I didn’t realize that.”

  “We broke up years ago.”

  “I see.”

  Ben wasn’t sure if his uncle really saw or not. Maybe he’d never understood what had happened. Maybe he’d genuinely believed that Ben was so in love with Chelle that he’d sacrificed everything for her. “It was never about her.”

  “I see.” His uncle cleared this throat. “Well, Andrew will be very pleased that you’ve come. And I am too.”

  Ben stared at the other man, realizing that—despite the brief words—it was a genuine gesture of welcome.

  It meant something to his uncle that he’d come to this family occasion.

  Ben felt uncomfortable, strangely unsure. Maybe Mandy was right about taking people as you found them. Maybe Harrison was right about being all in, even if it hurt. About forgiving because so often others had to forgive you.

  Maybe his mother was right about his head not being on straight after all.

  Maybe this was the beginning of ice cooling between him and his uncle.

  “Well,” Cyrus said. “I have some calls to make. But I’ll look forward to seeing you later.”

  Ben understood that as a dismissal. It immediately raised his hackles, but he resisted the impulse to snap back a response.

  Maybe it didn’t matter. His uncle might not change, but he could.

  ***

  The wedding was lovely, set off by the most glorious sunset in rich colors, reflected doubly by the water, that Ben had ever seen.

  It was a far cry from Harrison’s wedding eight months ago, but both Andrew and Laurel seemed relaxed and happy—and the dogs had been lined up to observe the ceremony.

  After dinner, Ben expected them all to head for bed, but Andrew suggested they play a game instead.

  Ben missed the actual name of the game—something in Greek—but it looked pretty much like bocce ball to him.

  It was dark, so the court Andrew and Harrison marked off was lit only by the landscape lighting. Ben was shaking his head, thinking no one was going to do a very good job hitting the jack in such bad light, when Sarah came over to stand beside him.

  She was watching Andrew laughing irrepressibly as Harrison tried to give him instructions on measuring off the right distances, but after a minute she elbowed Ben in the arm. “Maybe you should go over there and help.”

  Ben raised his eyebrows. “I’d be no help. I don’t know anything about this game.”

  “Just to be sociable, I mean.” Her eyes were glinting with amusement when she slanted him a look.

  He just raised his eyebrows even higher.

  “So who was girl who convinced you to shave off the beard?” He and Sarah had gotten along pretty well at the wedding when they’d met. Ben had even had a good time making Jonathan a little jealous. She still seemed to have good feelings for him, even though he’d walked out without even saying goodbye.

  Another thing he’d done that needed forgiveness.

  “It wasn’t just a girl.”

  “But it was partly a girl. Wasn’t it?”

  “Maybe.” Ben sighed, thinking of Mandy, wishing she was here. He was the one of his cousins who didn’t have a mate. Normally, it wouldn’t have bothered him, but knowing it should be Mandy made his chest ache with something like loneliness.

  “So what happened with her?” Sarah’s expression had changed. She wasn’t teasing anymore.

  “I blew it. What did you expect?”

  “Well, I would have expected you to blow it of course.” She gave him a hint of a smile. “Jonathan blew it too, you know. But then he came after me.”

  “And you forgave him?”

  “Of course. I love him.”

  Mandy had said she’d loved him—just before she’d walked away. He wondered if she’d forgive him if he came after her, this time with his head on straight.

  “You should go after her,” Sarah said.

  “She lives next door.”

  Her smile widened. “Then you should go back home.”

  Ben wasn’t sure what he would have replied—his head was spinning with possibilities too much to think clearly—but Andrew declared the court ready for play, so they split up into two teams of four.

  Ben’s mom said she wasn’t up to playing after the long day, and the Greek couple who worked at the inn refused to come out of the kitchen to play.

  Ben was teamed with Jonathan, Sarah, and his uncle. When they started to play, it was evident that the teams were pretty evenly matched, although all the of the loud people were clearly on the other team, since Marietta cheered enthusiastically for every good bowl from her team, Harrison and Andrew heckled their opponents ruthlessly, and Laurel kept informing them of the rules.

  After Marietta made a throw that won them the first round, Andrew was gloating loudly as he
hugged Marietta and gave his brother a high-five. When Ben saw Laurel move beside him from where she’d been retrieving the balls, he asked, “Can’t you do anything with him?”

  Laurel laughed. “I do my best.” Her eyes were soft as she looked on her husband of just over two hours, though.

  “Maybe you should try to rein him in,” Ben said with a smile. “It’s your wedding night, after all.”

  “Oh, I’d never rein him in. We’ve been living together for more than a year. And he needs this. I want it for him.”

  Ben turned to see that Andrew and Jonathan had gotten into a passionate argument about the placement of the jack for the next round. They were both clearly having a grand time.

  And Ben understood what Laurel meant. Andrew might seem to be easy-going, social, and liked by everyone, but he needed family too.

  Without conscious thought, his eyes slid over to his uncle, who was surprisingly quite a good player and who’d been as relaxed as he ever was this evening.

  Ben saw his uncle’s eyes were on him, and he turned away, feeling uncomfortable.

  They ended up playing several more rounds, until Ben was responsible for making the last bowl—the one that would decide whether his team would win or not.

  He ignored the loud hooting and jeers from Harrison and Andrew, but he paused as he lined up his shot.

  “Don’t blow it,” Jonathan said.

  Ben just rolled his eyes.

  “Your stance is all wrong,” his uncle said, coming up behind him and eyeing his arm with a calculating eye. “If you put your weight on—“

  “I’ve got it,” Ben interrupted.

  His uncle looked briefly like he’d argue, but instead he just nodded and took a step back. “All right. Do it your way then.”

  Ben made the throw. He won the game. But what he was thinking was he couldn’t believe his uncle had actually backed down.

  After the cheering had died down, Sarah said she simply had to go to bed and, since she was pregnant, she had a good excuse.

  Ben didn’t miss the way Harrison’s hand moved to Marietta’s back almost protectively at the words, although Marietta’s smile never faltered.

  Then Ben’s mother kissed him good-night, saying very softly that she was proud of him, before she left for her room.

  All in all, Ben was left feeling troubled and touched and confused and strangely terrified as he stood alone looking out at the Aegean while the others slowly drifted away from the terrace.

  The starlight and moonlight glinted off the water, and Ben wished Mandy was here right now. Wished it desperately. He needed someone to talk to, and it couldn’t be anyone but her.

  Then he heard someone’s throat clear, and he turned to see his uncle walking up to stand beside him.

  “I thought you’d gone to bed,” Ben said, mostly just to make conversation.

  He had no idea what to say to his uncle. Not after everything between them.

  “Not yet.” Cyrus Damon was staring out now at the starlight on the water too. He was silent for a long time, but it felt like he had something to say.

  Then he said, “I’m glad you were able to come.”

  “Yeah.” Ben paused. Then made himself say the rest. “Me too.”

  “I hope it means…” His uncle broke off, which was very uncharacteristic.

  “You hope it means what?”

  Ben didn’t know what his uncle was trying to say. He didn’t know what to expect next. He didn’t know what was happening on his uncle’s face. But something was definitely happening.

  For the first time in his life, he saw his uncle lose his composure. His plain features twisted with emotion, and his shoulders shook a few times. Then he choked out, “I’m so glad you’re here. I’m so sorry for everything, son. Please come back to us.”

  And for the second time half a day, Ben was slammed with dizzying emotions, inexplicable, completely unexpected.

  He’d never dreamed in all his life that his uncle would say anything like that.

  He’d also never dreamed that his uncle would reach out and pull him into his arms.

  Or that Ben would want to hug him back.

  Twelve

  Mandy had been trying to tell herself for the last week and a half—ever since she’d gotten home from Savannah—that she needed to give up on hopes of Ben.

  It was silly to expect him to change his mind and come over to sweep her off her feet or something. The experiences that had made Ben who he was were deeply engrained, and they were obviously too strong for him to believe they could be overcome.

  So she’d been diving into work, hitting up every friend she had in search of leads for new clients. And she’d nagged at The Wallet until he’d agreed for him and his wife to have dinner with her. And she’d said yes to any man who asked her out, trying to summon some interest in men again—men other than Ben. And she’d hung out with friends every evening, trying to feel less alone.

  None of it worked. She could try to manufacture feelings of family and connection all she wanted, but none of it could fill the gaping hole that Ben had left in her life.

  That was the unfortunate truth she’d learned over the last month. She couldn’t shape her life in a certain way and wait for the right man to drop in and complete it. Love wasn’t about completing your life. It was about the other person. It was about Ben.

  And it didn’t matter that he wasn’t ready for a relationship and that he would never be the kind of guy she’d always imagined herself with. She loved him anyway, and the rest of her life had shaped itself around him.

  If he ever came home, she was going to try to talk to him and see if there was hope for them to be friends again. She thought they were good for each other, and she’d rather have him in her life as a friend than not in her life at all.

  But he wasn’t home yet. She hoped he was all right. She hoped he wasn’t going to let go of everything and hide away in anonymity somewhere.

  It was possible. Maybe the pressure had broken him again, and he’d never again be who he really was.

  It was a Saturday evening, and she was coming home from eating dinner out with a few of her friends. She pulled out her keys to unlock her apartment door, glancing wistfully over at Ben’s.

  What she would give to see his door swing open and his big, hairy form standing in front of her, calling her Cupcake.

  She’d turned back to unlock her door when a sound behind her startled her.

  Before she could turn to look, she heard a familiar, gruff voice asking, “What’s the story, Cupcake?”

  She whirled around, her heart leaping into her throat and her hand flying up to cover her mouth.

  He stood in his opened doorway, wearing beat-up jeans and one of his cruder t-shirts. His hair was untrimmed, and he needed to shave, and he was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen in her life.

  “Well?” he prompted, his eyes resting on her face.

  “I don’t have a story. I was wondering if you’d ever come home.”

  “I’m home now.” His eyes raked up and down her body, taking in her high heels, her skinny jeans, and her pretty low-cut top. “You weren’t on a date, were you?”

  “Maybe.” She didn’t know why she even said it, but she liked the possessive fire that suddenly glinted in Ben’s eyes.

  He took a step forward. “Were you?

  “Is that really your business?”

  “No,” he admitted, the tension in his face lightening as he took a step back. “Of course, it’s not. I actually wasn’t sure if you’d even want to talk to me.”

  “Of course I want to talk to you. We were friends before we were anything else. I don’t want to lose that.”

  He smiled. “Good. I was just thinking about those hundred-dollar steaks you have in your freezer, but you weren’t in when I knocked on your door to invite myself over.”

  She knew a gesture of reconciliation when she was faced with one, and she couldn’t help but smile at him fondly.

 
; He was trying. He wanted to be friends again too. It might hurt when she thought what she’d almost had with him, but she wanted him to be whole and happy, and if that meant she was just his friend, then that was what she would be. “You’ll have to come over tomorrow. There’s no way I can eat them all myself.”

  He smiled back at her. “I’ll be there. I’ll bring the beer. And the cupcakes.”

  “I know better than that. You’re a leftover pizza guy. Not a cupcake guy.”

  “I can change.”

  Her breath hitched at the words and at the flicker of something deep in his eyes. She gazed up at him, trying to see it again, trying to figure out what it meant.

  But it disappeared as quickly as she saw it, and he just gave her a familiar, dry smirk instead.

  “How’s your mom?” she asked, shifting from foot to foot and feeling inexplicably shy and confused.

  “She’s okay. We got back a couple of days ago from Greece. We were at Andrew’s wedding.”

  “So you went?” She felt a different kind of hope rising in her chest. “Did it go okay?”

  “Yeah. As okay as it could go.” He let out a breath. “I’m glad I went.”

  She was glad too. She beamed at him, so pleased and excited that he was making an effort towards reconciling with his family. He needed it. She didn’t think he’d really be whole until he did.

  “Don’t look at me that way, Cupcake.”

  “What way?”

  “Like I’ve done something good. I haven’t done much of anything good.”

  “Well, we’ll just have to disagree about that. I think you’ve done a few good things.”

  “I’ve done more things that aren’t good at all.”

  She gave a little shrug. “I know things weren’t great between us. I think we both could have done better. But I’m not big on holding grudges.”

  “You should hold more of a grudge. I really was an ass with you.”

  She reached out to put a hand on his chest. “I’m not going to hold a grudge, Ben. I didn’t do right by you either. I know I was putting too much pressure on you, expecting you to be serious too soon. That was my mistake. I kept wanting this hole in my life to be filled. When I should have just wanted you.”