My Forever Billionaire

by Katie Evergreen

Shame.

  He had been ashamed of his actions, of the harm they had caused, and he couldn’t bear for anyone to think that he had actually killed his brother.

  Except it hadn’t been him. It hadn’t been him. The truth was almost too big to take in. He hadn’t killed Chase at all. Lying here, his head on Clementine’s soft, pink sweater he finally understood that it had all been a tragic accident.

  He felt utterly exhausted. His tears had dried up and his head was pounding almost as much as his foot was. He felt the soft tickle of Clementine’s hands in his hair and his heart swelled with love then dropped with sadness. If only he had spoken to her earlier. If only he had had this conversation with her ten years ago. He would have been hurting for Chase, but he could have worked through that pain and come out the other side of grief with good memories and the love of his Little Orange. Instead he had shut himself off and the pain had gnawed away at him every day, blackening his insides.

  He shifted his head slightly and heard Clementine exhale sharply.

  “Sorry, my love, have I hurt you?” he asked.

  He shot upright, eager to not do it again. She opened her eyes and squinted at him.

  “You just called me ‘your love’,” she said quietly, a smile spreading across her face. “Ow.”

  Jackson’s heart rate was through the roof. He had just called her his love, and it had felt so right. He was glad she was smiling about it because more heartache right now would floor him.

  “The last thing I want to do is hurt you any more than I have,” he said. “But I do love you. I’ve never stopped loving you. And now I feel free. You have helped me to be free and it’s made me love you even more than I thought possible.”

  The smile that spread across her face was so painful, but she just couldn’t stop it. Despite the throbbing in her head, and the aching in her nose, she was the happiest person alive.

  “I love you too, Jackson Brodie. I feel like I always have.”

  He leant down carefully and gently hugged her. Clementine could hardly breathe, her heart was hammering so loud she could hear nothing but the blood rushing around in her ears. Jackson pulled away slowly, but his face stopped inches from hers. Even with her eyes closed she could tell he was there, she could feel his breath, smell his spicy scent. It was almost as though he had never left. Clementine couldn’t hold back, she leaned up as far as she dared, her lips found his, and softly they kissed for the first time in ten years.

  “What on earth is going on here?”

  A deep, friendly, female voice pulled them apart.

  Despite the interruption, Clementine couldn’t stop smiling. She could feel something trickling down her cheek. At first she thought Jackson had started crying again, then she felt the flow get heavier and realized it was coming from her nose.

  “What on earth,” came the voice again, this time much closer.

  “Doctor?” she heard Jackson say. “It’s not what it looks like.”

  “Not what it looks like? Do I need to call the police, Miss?”

  Clementine choked on the laugh that burst from her mouth.

  “No, I fainted and hit my head on the floor,” she said, managing to control her chuckles.

  “Then why is his foot all messed up and the door all kicked in, and you’re bleeding profusely from your face? From here it looks like he’s broken in and attacked you. I’ll ask again, do I need to call the police?”

  With the tension in the air well and truly cut, Clementine couldn’t hold in her laughter anymore. She could feel her blood pooling around near her ears yet she couldn’t stop her ribs from shaking and the laughter spilling from her lips.

  “Sorry, doctor, we’re not laughing at you,” Jackson said, his voice choked with hilarity too. “It’s just the situation.”

  Clementine felt someone behind her head and felt cool, gloved hands either side of her cheeks. She let the doctor take the weight of her head and stem the blood flowing from her nose.

  “Doctor, what did you mean his foot is all messed up?” she asked cautiously.

  “It’s nothing,” she heard Jackson shout from somewhere in the store.

  The doctor laughed.

  “I’ll be the judge of that, thank you,” she said loudly, in reply to his protests.

  The woman leant over Clementine and said in a rather conspiratorial voice.

  “It’s the size of a balloon. Looks like he could have broken a bone or two. Was he trying to be heroic kicking the door down, assuming that’s what he did? That would be so romantic. You’re a lucky girl.”

  “Romantic, even if he’s broken his foot?” Clementine laughed. “I think I’ll reserve judgement on that.”

  She felt something wet being wiped over her face and a band-aid being applied to her forehead.

  “Okay, can you try to sit up for me, please,” the doctor said, sliding her hand under Clementine’s shoulders. “Take it nice and slowly and let me know if you have any dizziness or nausea.”

  Clementine gritted her teeth and slowly pushed herself to a sitting position. The world dropped out from under her for a fraction of a second, and her stomach flipped as though on a roller coaster free falling down the track. She placed her hands on the floor, steadying herself as the doctor knelt behind her.

  “Nice and slowly now,” the doctor repeated. “Try opening your eyes.”

  Clementine peeled her eyes open, squinting against the bright sunlight shining in through the large windows at the front. Luckily the counter blocked a lot of the light down near the floor, so it wasn’t hitting her directly in the eyes. Blinking away the fuzziness, Clementine saw Jackson and her heart almost burst with happiness. She couldn’t stop herself from smiling again and he saw her and smiled back.

  He looked like a different person from the one she had seen only a few days earlier. The sparkle was back in his dark brown eyes, his skin looked tanned and glowing, not grey and dull. He was even standing differently, taller somehow, which was no mean feat considering he was over six foot already.

  The world had stopped spinning. All that she could see now was the man she loved. Nothing else mattered. Jackson limped over to her, squatted down, and took her hand.

  “I’ll see to you in a minute, young man,” the doctor said sternly.

  “Just give me a moment,” he replied, ignoring the doctor’s protests. “Clementine there’s something I need to do. I’ll be gone for a short while but after this I promise that I will never, ever leave your side again. Is that okay, my love?”

  Clementine nodded, even though she felt impossibly sad at the thought of him leaving. He kissed her on the forehead and hobbled out the door. Clementine tried to get to her feet, but the doctor held her down.

  “Really, how irresponsible,” the woman chuckled. “Miss, you’re not going anywhere. You’ve not broken your nose, which is a miracle, but you’ve got a nasty cut to the forehead and a possible concussion. I am going to prescribe some painkillers and rest. If you start to feel nauseous, or if your vision doubles, then head straight to the nearest A&E. Don’t mess around, concussion can be dangerous. Do you have someone I can call to take you home?”

  Clementine started to give the doctor her mom’s number, but it turned out she didn’t need to. Her mom’s face suddenly appeared over the counter, etched with concern.

  “What on earth?” her mom said, scooting under the counter and grabbing Clementine up in a hug. “Jackson called me, he said you were okay but that I should come as soon as I could. What happened?”

  “It’s a long story,” Clementine said with a smile. “A very long story.”

  25

  Jackson knelt down in front of the gravestone. He had a handful of flowers and some Sugar Coated candy. He’d called Sweet Sensations after leaving Clementine the previous day and told them he was taking a little more vacation time. He’d put in an order for an urgent next day delivery of candy and the buzz in the office had been palpable—even over the phone.

  The church had already p
laced the new gravestone and taken away the old wooden marker, just as he’d asked them to. The marble gleamed in the sunlight, sending glittery sparkles all over the grass around it—sparkles that seemed to dance like angels. Jackson placed the flowers in the holder and scattered the sweets around the base of the stone.

  “Just a few words of gratitude for you, Chase,” he said, wiping a tear from his cheek. “Gratitude and love. I know I wasn’t always the best older brother, but I loved you, and you made my life so much fun when you arrived.”

  He stroked the marble, it was cool and smooth under his fingertips.

  “I’m sorry for what happened to you. I’m sorry that you didn’t get the chance to become a man, to fall in love, to go to university, to find your place in the world.”

  Jackson shifted his weight, sitting down on his heels.

  “I’m also sorry that I used your death as a reason not to do those things myself, too. It was unfair of me to put that on you when you weren’t here to defend yourself. Typical older brother.” He laughed and wiped more tears from his cheeks. “The last thing you would have wanted was Mom or me feeling the way we have. You were always so quick to forgive. I hope you and Mom and Dad are enjoying being back together. I miss you all so much.”

  He couldn’t hold back the tears now. Holding his head in his hands he sobbed for his loss, the grief finally able to surface now that the guilt had faded. He sat there for a long time, feeling the hot sun on his back, until his tears were all dried up.

  “Thank you, Chase,” he said, getting to his feet. “Thank you, Mom and Dad.”

  He looked over at the graves next to Chase’s, where his parents lay. He’d laid fresh flowers for them too.

  “I’ve got something exciting to do now, and I’m sure you’ll all be super proud of me. Wish me luck.”

  He blew them all a big kiss, then headed back through the churchyard to his bike.

  Clementine sat on the grass, her legs tucked under her, listening to the trickle of the river. The spring had definitely sprung, and the sun was warm on her back. The grass was still pretty wet, but luckily she’d brought her old coat to sit on. The warmth was helping her head, which still hadn’t stopped thumping, and she’d noticed some lovely looking black rings under her eyes in the bathroom mirror that morning. Topped with the cartoonish bump forming on her forehead, she felt like hiding under her duvet and not coming out until she was all mended. Fortunately, Jackson had given her strict instructions to meet him, so she hadn’t been able to hibernate.

  His text message had arrived last night, just as she was getting ready for bed. Her day had been a wipeout anyway, she’d spent the latter part lying on her parents’ sofa watching re-runs, trying not to worry about how vulnerable her bakery was now that Jackson had kicked down the door. Trying not to think about what Jackson was doing, or their wonderful kiss, or anything at all about Jackson as it still made her face hurt. But, when his message had arrived asking her to meet him the next day, she’d read it then fallen into a blissful sleep, the phone clutched in her hands.

  Now she was sitting, waiting, by the river which flowed first through her farm and then through his. A kingfisher darted over the water, a flash of blue and orange catching her eye. She felt content and happy and excited all at once. If the week so far was anything to go by, then this mixture of emotions was a welcome bunch.

  The rumble of a bike engine growled like a distant storm and the butterflies in Clementine’s stomach started flapping wildly. She looked over toward Jackson’s farm, across a field which was now mostly long grasses and meadow flowers. Soon his head bobbed into sight. Clementine watched as he limped toward her, his arms holding what looked like a picnic basket. As her stomach gurgled she realized what a particularly welcome sight this was. Breakfast had been too greasy an offering for her excitement, and it was almost noon.

  “I hope you’ve not been waiting for me for too long?” he asked, planting a kiss on her hair.

  He shook out a picnic rug and Clementine shuffled over onto it. Jackson dropped to the rug with less grace than normal and looked at Clementine. His eyes were red with tears.

  “Are you okay?” she asked. “That must have been hard.”

  “It was,” he said, nodding. “Harder than I ever thought possible. But not as hard as the last ten years have been. It felt right, saying goodbye. It felt like the right time to let him go.”

  He looked at her bruised face with concern.

  “You should see the other guy,” she joked, then she nodded to his foot. Jackson grimaced.

  “I’ve got it strapped up, biking was not fun. I think I’m going to head over to the hospital later and get one of those boot things for broken feet. But I’ve been too busy.”

  He stopped talking and took a deep breath. Clementine picked a strawberry out of the basket and nibbled it, delighting in the sweet fruit.

  “I have asked my builders to come and refurbish the farm. They’re starting today,” he said, his cheeks pink with excitement.

  “Wow,” Clementine gasped, her hand over her mouth as she was still eating the strawberry. “That’s what happens when you can pay them good rates, right? Is that how you managed to do up The Gingerbread House so quickly for me?”

  Jackson nodded.

  “It’s a totally different world,” Clementine said, shaking her head and thinking of all the trouble she was still having with the old business payments.

  “And I hope it’s okay,” he said, seeming to read her mind. “But I’ve bought out your old shop too and paid off your old suppliers. I’m going to use it for a Sweet Sensations outlet.”

  Clementine was speechless.

  “Is your silence a good one?” Jackson asked, cautiously. “I don’t want you to get annoyed with me or think that I’m trying to control you. I’ll back away if you want me to?”

  The thought was such a horrible one it found Clementine’s voice for her.

  “No!” she cried. “Please don’t back away. I’m just so grateful for everything you’ve done for me. I’m wondering why you’re doing it?”

  Jackson took Clementine’s free hand.

  “Because I love you. And I owe you for years of heartache. And I’m so very grateful to you for not hating me for that. I just want you to be happy.”

  Clementine felt her heart soar.

  “Jax, I’d be happy with you even if I had nothing else. Even if you had nothing else. Because I love you too.”

  Jackson leant toward Clementine and kissed her gently on the lips. He tasted of mint and smelt like spice.

  “My Little O,” he said, kissing her.

  “My Jax,” she replied in a whisper.

  They sat back and watched the river flow, listening to its gentle rippling, the bird song a delightful backing track.

  “When the farm is finished, O, would you like to move in with me?”

  Clementine was sure she hadn’t heard him correctly. She turned to him, her brow crinkled.

  “Pardon?”

  “You look a bit pale, do you need some sugar?” Jackson said, his face full of concern. “I do not want you fainting on me for a third time!”

  He rummaged around in the picnic basket and pulled out a Sugar Coated. He unwrapped the familiar red and orange wrapper and handed it over to Clementine, who was already full of sugar from the strawberries. She took it anyway and popped it in between her lips. The sweet orange candy burst in her mouth and she smiled at Jackson’s choice of flavors.

  “Don’t forget to read the message,” he said, his face now pale too.

  She savored the candy for a moment longer then took it out. It was upside down, so she turned her head and her hands to read the message. When she did, she thought she might explode with happiness, just like the taste had exploded in her mouth. For staring up at her from her very own Sugar Coated candy, given to her by her one true love, was the message:

  Will you marry me?

  Clementine jumped to her feet, ignoring the pain in her head, an
d started squealing. She clasped her hands together and looked around at Jackson. He was by her side in an instant. Down on one knee, looking up at her. In his hands was a ring box. He opened the box and inside, gleaming in the sunlight, was a red and orange gummy ring.

  “Will you marry me, Clementine Harper?” he asked, his face beaming.

  “You remembered,” she cried, tears springing into her eyes. “Of course I’ll marry you, Jackson Brodie.”

  Jackson stood with difficulty, cupped her face gently with his hands, and kissed Clementine as though they’d never been apart. Then, thirteen years after doing so the first time, he placed the gummy ring on her finger.

  Epilogue

  “Jax, could you please pass me the butter?”

  “Yes of course, Mrs. Clementine Brodie.”

  Clementine’s face drew into a huge smile. It had been a week since they’d taken their vows in the little wooden church in Willingham, surrounded by family and friends, and Clementine just loved hearing her new name.

  “Thank you, husband,” she giggled, dropping the butter into the pan and stirring it into the melted sugar.

  “What time do your guests arrive?” Jackson asked, sniffing the pan and exclaiming at the heavenly scent.

  “A couple of hours,” she said, flapping her oven mitt at him. “So shoo. We’re practicing sugar work today and there’s loads to get ready.”

  They were in the Brodie farmhouse kitchen, Clementine’s new favorite place to be. When Jackson had the farm refurbished, she had overseen the work, advising on colors and finishes, as well as the kitchen layout. It was huge, windows on nearly all sides letting in vast amounts of natural light. A great oak kitchen table sat right in the middle. Around the table were six places laid out with instructions, piping bags, wooden spoons, and big mixing bowls.

  Eighteen months ago, when The Gingerbread House had undergone its face lift, Clementine had no idea that she would be running her own cookery classes as well as the store. She had taken the bakery from strength to strength and this had seemed like the next step. Jackson was working a lot from home, overseeing Sweet Sensations, and Clementine loved being able to spend the days with him. Chefs and bakers came from all over the state to work with her, mostly on cake decorations, but she also offered beginner’s classes—for those who weren’t sure of their baking powder from their flour.