Her Billionaire Mistake (Billionaire Bachelor Mountain Cove Book 1)

by Lucy McConnell

She nodded and rang up the purchase, her mind more on the man gathering alien patties for a family of six than on the buttons she pushed. She gave the total and then hurried to help the next person. As she went behind Asher, she brushed her hand along his back. He leaned into her touch, his eyes never leaving the dad trying to get his kid to make up his mind.

  A few minute later, he kissed her cheek as he passed, making her knees feel like marshmallow goo.

  Making out in the Sweet Shoppe was also against the rules, but it was all she could think about. And Asher wasn’t helping. Every chance he got, he touched her arm, her hip, her cheek. He wore a deep, woodsy, musky scent that would suddenly fill her senses and carry her away, making her have to ask the customers to repeat themselves.

  They were making good progress on the line when her phone rang. She checked the number before answering and saw Crystal’s name. “Hey, what’s up?”

  “There’s been a wreck on the highway. I’m running late. How ya doing?”

  “Great. Really.”

  “Shoot. I was hoping we’d be swamped.”

  “We are.” She smiled at the next customer, who pointed to what he wanted. It was horrible customer service to talk on the phone while she was helping someone. “In fact, I have to go. I’m in the middle of an order.”

  “Okay, I’ll hurry.”

  “Be safe, not fast.” Grandma always told them that phrase. It probably came from losing her family in a car wreck. The police had said her uncle had been speeding. There were other factors involved, but Grandma pounded into them the importance of following the speed limit.

  “I will. Loves.”

  “Loves.” She hung up and thanked the man for his patience.

  “No problem.” He replied. He had on a shirt that said “Packed and ready to go” with a picture of a flying saucer on the front.

  “Everything okay?” asked Asher.

  Brooklyn looked at the line—now only halfway around the store—at Asher as he carefully cut a block of cookies-and-cream fudge, and a good look at her heart, which was lighter than it had been in years. “Everything’s great.”

  Twenty minutes later, when the store emptied out for the Mother Ship Landing near the springs, Brooklyn threw her arms around Asher and kissed him long and slow and with all the excitement and hope building inside of her.

  She was falling in love with him, and she couldn’t stop herself.

  When they finally pulled apart, gasping for air, he asked, “What was that for?”

  She searched for a reason that she’d thrown herself into his arms and finally said, “I couldn’t help myself.”

  He grinned and grabbed her up, kissing her with urgency. “I like that answer.”

  She smiled against his lips but went right back to kissing. Maybe he wouldn’t stay. But if he left, and she had this moment in her pocket, she might survive.

  But if he stayed …

  If he stayed, then they’d have thousands more kisses to share, a life and a home to build, and she could give herself over to this love that was quickly growing too big to contain.

  Chapter Twenty

  Asher

  The alien convention was something to behold. He’d never thought he was the kind of guy who would get into something like that, but Saturday night, Brooklyn had taken him into the woods where the group had set up telescopes and such to stargaze and watch for strange occurrences. The sky was amazing, even alive.

  The UFO enthusiasts were a fun group. Harmless in their hobby. While some believed wholeheartedly in beings from other planets, others were there for the fun atmosphere, the live music, and the comedians performing on a temporary stage.

  Sometime in their long kiss good night, he’d said, “Can we say we’re an us? I’d like us to be together exclusively.”

  She’d nudged his nose and nipped at his lower lip. “You mean you want to be boyfriend and girlfriend?” Her tone was teasing and light and comfortable where he’d been nervous.

  “Yeah—except I’m a manfriend. There’s no boy in this,” he’d replied, and then he’d kissed her until her knees went weak and he had to hold her up.

  She’d moaned softly, and he had to lean against the door. “I’m in,” she’d whispered, and his heart was all in too.

  He was looking forward to celebrating the anniversary of that moment next year.

  Which was why he’d asked Mrs. Morgan to connect him with Adam Moreau as they sat in the portable trailer brought in to function as the office for the Mountain Cove development. They had two more inspections to go—one on the sewer lines and one on power—and then the individual home construction could begin.

  Several lots were already sold. Adam was well connected to his target market and had sold these plots by word of mouth. If possible, that would be their only means of advertising. A few well-spoken words in the right circles and billionaire clients would send liaisons to make inquiries.

  “I hope you have good news,” was Adam’s way of answering the phone.

  Asher laughed. “Always. I sold a lot for you today. Number 21. I need the contracts sent over.”

  “Great. Who’s the buyer?” Adam wasn’t one to spend time on niceties—especially on a business call.

  “Asher Lockmore.”

  Adam’s laughter chortled through the line, and there was a beep, signaling he’d been placed on speakerphone.

  “What’s her name?” asked Belle.

  It was Asher’s turn to laugh. “Why do you think there’s a woman involved?”

  “Because you were dead set against Mountain Cove from the beginning. The only thing that can make a man change his mind that quickly is a beautiful woman. What’s her name?” Belle pushed.

  Mrs. Morgan pointed a finger at him and nodded her head—silently saying she agreed with Belle.

  “It’s a good investment for me.”

  Belle groaned. “So help me, Asher, I’ll kick you out of our house.”

  “She’ll do it. Her whole face is red as a rose right now,” Adam chimed in.

  Asher laughed. “All right. Her name is Brooklyn. She works at the Sweet Shoppe.”

  “Oh! I love that place,” Belle squealed.

  “We’ll send over the contract today and get you locked in on Lot 21.” Adam said.

  “Thanks.” For saving me from more questions from Belle. “It’s been a pleasure doing business with you.”

  Adam clicked off without saying goodbye.

  Asher looked at Mrs. Morgan. “Would you be ever so disappointed to be here for a year while I build another new home?”

  “I think I could stand it.” She continued labeling the folders on her desk, one for each lot in The Cove to hold the building plans and permits.

  He wasn’t sure how things would look long-term. It wasn’t like he and Brooklyn had talked about a future together, though he liked their current arrangement—quite a bit, actually. The only thing nagging at him was the sense that it wouldn’t be enough. At some point in the future, he wouldn’t be able to say good night, and he’d want the right to hold her close no matter the time of day.

  He went about unpacking office supplies and organizing his desk. Working from Adam’s house had been fine, but once they started homes, there would be too many contractors coming and going, and he’d need a base of operations.

  Most billionaires would have their own general contractor working on their house, but Asher would oversee them all and make sure they complied with Eureka Springs laws, building codes, and regulations. He’d also work with the contractors and city during inspections.

  Mrs. Morgan answered her phone. “Hello?” She laid down her pen and focused on the top of her desk. Then she started snapping her fingers at Asher to get his attention.

  A finger snap meant this situation needed immediate attention. Her job was to remain calm as she spoke to the person on the phone, while his job was to scramble around and set things to right. He was on his feet, his phone in his hand, listening to her side of the call for cl
ues as to what was needed.

  “Of course. We can be at the airport in thirty minutes.”

  Asher pushed the button on his phone to call for his driver and car. He grabbed Mrs. Morgan’s purse and her elbow and ushered her out the door. The car arrived, and he gave instructions to the driver as they slid inside.

  “It will be wonderful to see him. Thank you for the heads-up.” She slouched back in her seat. “Your grandfather will land in twenty minutes.”

  “Here?” He looked through the windshield as if verifying that they were still in Arkansas. “Why is he coming here?”

  “His man didn’t say. But he’s bringing the whole crew along, so he must be staying for a while.” She pushed a button and put the phone back up to her ear. “Have you told Brooklyn who you are?”

  He jammed his fingers through his hair. “I haven’t. It’s like—”

  She cut him off with a shake of her head. “Mr. Taylor, thank you for taking my call. I’m afraid we have a last-minute houseguest, and he’s bringing several staff members with him.”

  Asher leaned back in his seat. There could only be one reason Grandpa was coming to Eureka Springs. If he was flying all the way out here, then he had it in his head to visit Julie.

  Asher leaned forward to talk to the driver. “Can you arrange for a second car, an SUV? I’m not sure how many people Grandpa’s bringing, but there will be luggage to deal with as well.”

  “I’m on it, sir.” He pushed a button on the console to start a call and transferred it to his headset.

  Mrs. Morgan hung up and looked at him expectantly. She wasn’t waiting for a progress report on the car situation; she wanted an answer as to why he hadn’t told Brooklyn he was A.L.

  He thought through the situation. “You know what? This isn’t that big of a deal. I’ll explain everything to Brooklyn, and I’m sure she’ll understand.”

  She huffed and searched through her contacts, connecting another call. “Understand why you withheld information from her about the grandmother she holds near and dear to her heart? The woman who took her in and raised her when her world fell apart? Yes, I’m sure she’ll be completely understanding about that.” She turned slightly away as the person answered. “Hello, this is Mrs. Morgan. I have a grocery order placed for tomorrow. I’d like to change that.”

  Asher pulled out his phone and stared at the screen. They were about ten minutes from the airport. He could call Brooklyn right now, but was this really something he could do over the phone? The words stuck in his head like peanut butter—he smiled—or fudge. Several phrases came up like, So, there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you. But they all seemed trite at best.

  The truth shall set you free.

  He’d just have to go with that. No matter how awkward. “I’m going to tell her tonight. I’ll get Grandpa and his staff settled, and then I’ll go into town and talk to her.”

  Mrs. Morgan patted his hand. “It’ll go better if she hears it from you before Mr. Ward arrives in her life. And I’m sure the ladies would like some warning—your grandpa isn’t exactly subtle.”

  That was the truth.

  They turned in to the private landing strip and pulled up to the plane. The engines were already off, and Grandpa stood at the bottom of the stairs. He didn’t wait for the car to stop before he started their way. His eyebrows were pulled down, and his chin too.

  Asher got out and hugged him hello.

  “No time to dally.” Grandpa pounded his back and climbed into the car. “Hello, Mrs. Morgan. You’re looking lovely, as always.”

  “Mr. Ward, it’s wonderful to see you.”

  Asher closed the door behind him and settled in the seat. It was time to take charge. “Wait until you see this house—it’s right on the lake. You’re going to love it.”

  “I said I don’t have time for that right now.” Grandpa grabbed onto the headrest and pulled himself forward. “To the Sweet Shoppe on Main Street, please.”

  “Yes, sir.” Clark shifted the car in gear and maneuvered them off the runway.

  Asher tugged his tie loose. This was so not good. “What’s the rush?”

  “I’ve waited a long time to see Julie again, and I’m not going to waste another minute.”

  The trees sped by their windows as they got closer and closer to town. “Really, wouldn’t you like to at least freshen up?”

  “What am I, a pile of junk? I can take a plane ride and not come out looking like death.”

  “You look very handsome.” Mrs. Morgan patted his forearm.

  Asher shot her a death look. She wasn’t helping.

  She continued in her negotiation voice. “But perhaps a moment to orient yourself would be wise.”

  He shook his head. “I know this town. It’s imprinted right here.” He tapped his temple with two fingers. “Eureka Springs gets into your soul.” He stared out the windshield for a moment, his eyes seeing the past. “I’ve had dreams about this place.”

  “You don’t say.” Asher turned slightly. “And why didn’t you ever tell me or Naomi about it?”

  Grandpa chuckled. “You pups wouldn’t have understood.”

  “We’re not children anymore.”

  “Seems like you aren’t smart yet, either.”

  “Grandpa.” Asher took offense at his words.

  “Nothing against you. Asher, you’ve built a fine life for yourself and a considerable fortune. But you haven’t lived, my boy. You haven’t had to choose between someone you love and surviving.”

  “Carrie.” He spat her name.

  Grandpa shook his head. “You didn’t love her. She messed with your mind, not your heart. Thank goodness you came out of that one with your head on straight. I wondered if you were going to pull it together.”

  “Thanks for the confidence.” Though his grandpa had always been a hard-nosed man, he’d never been this blunt.

  “I’m just talking to you man to man. If you can’t take it …”

  “All right.” Asher waved his hand.

  They turned onto Main Street, and his stomach dropped. Maybe Brooklyn wouldn’t be there. She’d worked all weekend, only going out after the shop was closed. And Mondays were usually her day off. The only reason they hadn’t spent the day together was because he had the new office coming today.

  The car stopped in front of the Sweet Shoppe door, and Grandpa shoved at Asher’s leg. “Get a move on.”

  Asher took a deep breath and opened the car door. This wasn’t ideal, but he could make it work. Brooklyn wasn’t overly emotional or crazy. They’d handle this bump in the road just fine.

  If that didn’t work, he’d grovel.

  He climbed out and waited for Grandpa, determined to let him go through the door first. This was his big moment, and Asher couldn’t take it away from him.

  Grandpa’s hands shook, and he grabbed the doorframe to pull himself up.

  Asher took him under the arm and lifted. “You sure you’re up for this, old man?”

  “I’m out of my body with nerves, but I’m not backing down.” He glanced at Asher. “I’ve worked out what I want to say, but I can’t think straight.”

  Asher patted him on the shoulder. He’d never seen the war veteran at a loss for words, let alone nervous. This was the man who’d stormed a POW camp, facing down two automatic rifles, to rescue half the men under his command. He was fearless and headstrong and completely at a loss as to how to approach a woman he’d left behind years ago.

  “You could start with I’ve missed you. Or, better yet, You haven’t changed a bit.”

  Grandpa snorted. “We’ve both changed.” He ran his hand down his face, and Asher saw the lines and the wrinkles he usually ignored. To him, Grandpa was the same guy he’d been since Asher was five years old. “I’m going in,” he said, and he made his way to the door. He swung it open with purpose and strode inside.

  Asher glanced back at Mrs. Morgan, who was still in the car.

  “Get in there.” She shooed him along
.

  Jumping into action, he rushed up, grabbing the door before it swung shut. He ducked in, his suit jacket flying open, and stopped in his tracks to take in the situation.

  Julie was behind the counter, her arm out and her hand in Grandpa’s. He was leaning over, pressing a kiss to her fingers. Brooklyn and Crystal were against the back wall, hugging each other and swiping tears. So much for not emotional.

  “I came to see if you’d go on a picnic with me, Jules.” Grandpa’s voice was gravelly and low and had lost the edge it so often took with Asher.

  All three women sighed romantically.

  Julie rolled her eyes and shot her granddaughters a mind-your-own-business look. “I’d like that, Thomas. Let me get my purse.”

  His eyes wrinkled at the corners as he smiled. “I put the cart before the horse, Jules. I don’t even have a picnic basket.”

  She laughed. “You fool.” Her voice was so full of remembrance and tenderness that the years melted away, and Asher could see the young beauty that had caught his grandpa’s eye. She had eyes like Crystal and hair the same color as Brooklyn’s. When she laughed and tossed her head, he couldn’t help but think of Brooklyn and squirrels and starlight.

  Brooklyn caught sight of him and made her way around the counter. “Isn’t this sweet?” she whispered as she wrapped her arms around his middle.

  He put his arm around her and kissed her hair. She smelled of sugar and brownies. “I need to tell you something.”

  She lifted her chin to look him in the eyes.

  “Can we go tomorrow?” Grandpa asked.

  “I’d like that,” Julie answered, her eyes dropping demurely.

  Just as Asher opened his mouth to explain everything, Grandpa patted him on the shoulder. “Let’s get going, son. I’ve got plans to make.”

  Brooklyn’s nose wrinkled. “Son?” She looked back and forth between the two of them. “Do you know each other?”

  Grandpa slapped him on the back hard enough to make him step forward. “This here is my grandson. He’s working in the area. I’ll bet you’re Brooklyn—the one who sent the emails?”

  “I am.” She untangled herself from Asher and shook Grandpa’s hand. “It’s nice to finally meet you.” She glanced at Asher out of the corner of her eye. “I’m sorry, did you say you’re related?” Her eyes widened as she put the pieces together. “You’re A.L.”