An Over 60s Love Story (BWWM Billionaire Romance Book 1)

by BWWM Club

  Still, she didn't commit. She took the day to herself, and he didn’t text her again. He didn’t push her.

  Grace did, She texted her multiple times, but Rebecca gave her nothing.

  The next morning, there was a greeting, wishing her a good day, but that was all from George. It was tempting to ask Grace what that meant, as if she was a teenager trying to figure out boys all over again, but she didn’t.

  Instead, she went for her class, and found that it was easier that day. She made so much progress that she was allowed to learn a couple of the basic kicks, though she wasn't actually allowed to kick anything.

  She was the oldest person in the class, and she had dreaded that in the beginning, but really, young people in their twenties and thirties were still as much in awe of a teacher as teenagers were. Some things, you never really grew out of.

  Rebecca was happy enough to be humming as she stopped for lunch - alone, because she liked that, too - before going for her afternoon class. There, she was not the oldest in the class, and Rebecca thought that was marvelous. It was still a change to be the student and not the teacher. Yet another change in her life, and one she was sure she would get used to, sooner rather than later.

  By the time she was done, she was tired enough to just want to go home and maybe warm up some leftovers for dinner. She was even thinking longingly of bed when her phone buzzed.

  Pleasant anticipation rippled through her. She got in her car and pulled her phone out of her bag, expecting it to be George.

  But it wasn't.

  "Phyllis?"

  "Mom, I'm sorry but the babysitter can't make it and I need to work late. Do you think you could pick up Annabelle from school? I wouldn't ask but I don't have much choice."

  "Of course, honey. I'll get Annabelle, don't worry about it."

  "You haven't invited any strange men home from that online thing, have you? I can't have Annabelle around strange men."

  Rebecca bit her tongue. Men didn't come much stranger than Annabelle's own father.

  "No, there will be nobody coming over except Annabelle, and you, whenever you're done. I'll make it to school on time if I go now. I'll talk to you later."

  If there was one thing that could wipe all thoughts of dating, and even interesting men, from her mind, it was her granddaughter. It was a joy to see Annabelle's face light up when she saw that her gramma had come to pick her up. It was lovely to hear her chattering about school, and it was even lovelier to hear that she had aced her long division test - which meant, of course, that there would be cookies, no matter how Phyllis felt about that.

  Time flew, and when her phone buzzed that evening, Rebecca didn't even register it. It was only after tucking Annabelle in bed that Rebecca finally took her phone.

  He hadn't kept texting her. There were just two texts.

  First, a photo.

  She braced herself. At some point, she was bound to get a dick pic, wasn't she? There was no age limit on things like that.

  But it wasn't. It was a vase of flowers - bright, colorful flowers.

  The caption told her that it was from his garden. He also confessed that he wasn't the one who had grown them.

  Rebecca chuckled.

  So, George could fib, though not fib outright, and he had a conscience active enough to make him want to tell the truth. That was refreshing, too.

  The second was a photo of himself, as a much younger man, getting his black belt. The caption said that it had been thirty years ago, and that it had taken him about twenty years to get there.

  So she could do it, too.

  Rebecca smiled.

  That was how she made up her mind that she would meet this man. Maybe not the very next day, because she didn't have to hurry - she wasn't running out of time that quickly, and hurrying hadn't really done her any good before - but she would meet him.

  If only as friends.

  New horizons and new experiences, she told herself, as she left a light on for her daughter, and got into bed.

  This time, she fell asleep quickly, without even thinking of her insomnia.

  Rebecca made breakfast for her child and her grandchild, and she found joy in that, especially when Annabelle dug into her pancakes with great gusto.

  But it was obvious that there was something on Phyllis's mind.

  "I could drop Annabelle off at school, if you like. I have a few errands to run, anyway."

  Phyllis brightened up a little.

  "Philly, is everything all right at work? If there's something wrong, you can tell me."

  Phyllis shook her head.

  "No, of course not. Everything's fine. It's just a really hectic week. I should get in early. Thanks, again, mom. I'll make it up to you soon."

  "Nothing to make up for. You know I love dropping Annabelle off at school. She's so popular, it's nice to see."

  Phyllis smiled, but her heart wasn't in it.

  Rebecca tried to put it out of her mind as her daughter left for work, saying goodbye to Annabelle with an extra long hug that made Rebecca frown.

  Oh, there was definitely something going on there. But she knew Phyllis. There was no way she would tell anybody what was going on until she absolutely had to. It would be in her own time, or not at all.

  Rebecca sighed, checked that Annabelle's seat belt was fastened, and drove her to school. Whatever was wrong, Annabelle wasn't affected by it, obviously. That was something to be thankful for.

  Honestly, Rebecca was glad for a distraction by the time she got home.

  She checked her phone eagerly.

  George had texted her again.

  I happen to have a reservation tonight at The Tower.

  It took Rebecca a few seconds to realize that he meant the fancy new restaurant, billed as a dining experience like no other, and that he meant to invite her along.

  I've heard formidable things about the place.

  Formidable didn't necessarily mean good. To be perfectly honest, Rebecca was of the opinion that unless it was something you truly wanted and something that could truly bring you joy, spending that much money on a dining experience was not sensible.

  Finally, a flaw in George. That was a relief. At least she could be sure that he was real now.

  She'd been beginning to wonder. Phyllis had given her a lecture about catfishing and bots used to steal identities and scam old widows out of their savings - being considered an old widow had jarred but it had been a fair point. She'd almost begun to believe that George was something like that.

  Nonetheless, I'd like to take you, if you wouldn't mind. If not tonight, then later this week.

  She’d have to make a choice, and soon.

  George Walters sat by his pool and checked his phone.

  And then he checked his phone again, and then he checked his phone yet again.

  He was acting like a smitten teenager. Over a few texts!

  “Dad?”

  George tried to snap out of it and turned to his son, who had made them their cocktails and was beginning to get a little impatient.

  “Gerald, I told you. I’m retired. It’s up to you. You can go ahead if you feel it’s the right thing to do.”

  “I know that. I’m asking for your input. Come on.”

  George grinned.

  He loved Gerald, he really did, but sometimes, he wondered if Gerald understood the concept of retirement. Gerald was thirty. In a few decades, hopefully, he would retire, too. If he was lucky, he’d get to spend his retirement with Bethany, his beautiful wife.

  To be honest, George had his doubts. There were many things that Bethany did well, but holding a stimulating conversation was not one of them, and Gerald might find that having a wife who agreed with him all the time made life a little boring.

  His Marsha had never minced words if she thought that he was wrong, and that was one of the things he missed the most.

  He missed her so much, every day.

  “And my input is that it’s your call, Gerald. You can do what y
ou think is right. You know the philosophies of the company. It’s up to you.”

  “What’s gotten into you? You’re really serious about this retirement thing.”

  George grinned at his son.

  Oh, wouldn’t he have quite the shock if he found out!

  Chapter 5

  Nervous didn't begin to express how Rebecca felt as she looked in the mirror.

  She wasn't quite sure how she'd gotten where she was, but there she was, about to meet a man at The Tower, for a date.

  A date.

  A dinner date.

  She'd gone on dinner dates before.

  Before was a long time ago. She didn't think she'd ever gone on a date to a place as fancy as The Tower without a really special reason, like a birthday or an anniversary. Even then...

  Roger had taken her to other places, special places, where they had made memories that still made her smile. Memories that would always make her smile.

  "You know I will always love you, Roger."

  Oh, she knew how ridiculous it was to feel guilty, but it wasn't as if she could help it. She felt guilty anyway. She knew that Roger would want her to be happy, to get out there and live her life, but she was still...

  "I know I'm not cheating on you by going on a date with George. I know you'll want me to be happy. But Roger... I think I really like him. I'm not going to jump into bed with him, but I really like talking to him. Did I tell you that he recommended a few more books for me, and a blog, and a YouTube channel? It's improved my form a lot."

  It had. Since then she had two more taekwondo classes and her instructor had been impressed. She'd been bubbling with joy when she'd told George about it, and he'd seemed so thrilled for her that...

  Well, of course, those had all been texts. They hadn't even spoken to each other. Even after they'd made the date, they hadn't spoken to each other. He hadn't asked to call, and she hadn't asked to call either, so they had just... texted.

  She was beginning to really understand why her students had been so addicted to texting. You got to know people better when you had no choice but to read the words they had to say. It was harder to to not hear them.

  Well, she was going to talk to him now. She was going to have a conversation with him.

  She'd called a cab because she was a bit too nervous to drive. Her phone blinked and she realized it was time. No more delays. No more excuses.

  She hadn't told Grace and Lillian. They would've fussed too much and she was already nervous enough as it was.

  She took one last look at herself.

  Her new hobbies had given her better muscle tone, which made the dark blue dress she was wearing look better on her than it had in a long time. It hit her knee, which was perfectly respectable, and showed just a hint of cleavage, helped along by the truly excellent bra that she and Grace had shopped for a few months ago.

  She had a bright blue scarf to go over it, and the silver jewelry was pretty but not ostentatious. Her hair was pulled back in a bun because she didn't think she could get used to having it loose. She was too used to the practical hairstyle. But she had left a few strands free to frame her face. Maybe she should consider a bob. Grace had got one and she looked amazing. She had the bone structure for it.

  And Rebecca was still trying to delay it.

  No more.

  Grabbing her purse and her coat, she went out, smiled at the nice young woman who had come to pick her up, and got in.

  It was a relief to make conversation, and by the time she was dropped at The Tower, the young woman had already made a Snapchat story about Rebecca's date.

  It only made Rebecca more nervous.

  The restaurant was on the top floor of the building, a good sixteen floors up, so the view would be amazing. The restaurant was a glass dome. It must feel odd to feel as if you were on display. Well, she would find out, wouldn't she?

  She made her way up, paused at the entrance, and was relieved when a cheerful young man walked up to her and she could ask him for her table.

  "Yes, of course! Mr. Walters is waiting for you at your table. Please, this way, ma'am."

  Rebecca let herself be guided to what looked like the best table in the place - perfectly placed for the best view, all the way across to the river.

  Well, she might be on display, but the city was on display for her, too. That seemed fair enough.

  "Thanks. I... Hello, George."

  George got to his feet with a smile.

  He definitely had not lied about his height. He was a good five inches taller than she was, even if she had a couple of inches on her feet, and she was not a particularly short woman herself.

  "Rebecca. Finally. I can't tell you how happy I am to finally meet you."

  She offered him her hand, and he took it, but not to shake. He held it in both of his and smiled at her as if nothing could have pleased him more.

  His eyes, they were a beautiful blue, she realized. They were far lovelier and wiser than they seemed to be in photographs. His salt and pepper hair was distinguished. His smile was sincere, which put her at ease, even when she hadn't expected to be at ease at all.

  "I'm happy to meet you, too. Thank you for asking me out, George."

  "My pleasure. Let me."

  He held her chair for her, letting his fingertips brush against her arm, and Rebecca was a little surprised by how it affected her. The little thrill was unexpected.

  "Would you mind if I order the wine for us?"

  Rebecca shook her head, and she listened as George ordered wine and appetizers for them.

  "I hope that's okay," he said, when he was done and turned back to her.

  "That sounds good. I guess it's obvious that I'm not used to all of this. I'm more of a riverfront restaurant kind of person."

  "Would you like to go down there instead?"

  "Oh, no. No, I didn't mean to sound... I'm just..."

  "Rebecca, the wonderful part about being old and retired - not that you're old, I refer to me - is that we can do whatever we wish to do and nobody can tell us not it. It's completely up to us. We're supposed to be the wise ones now. If we seize the day, then it's the right thing to do."

  Rebecca chuckled.

  "I suppose. But now I'm looking forward to this. This view is something else."

  George smiled.

  "It definitely is, from where I'm sitting. Ah, here's our wine. No, we don't want to do the ritual, young lady, unless my companion wishes to? No? Then please do pour for us, and thank you."

  Rebecca smiled.

  A man who definitely knew his own mind and had the confidence to do exactly what he wanted to do - but with a great deal of charm. Well, third time really was the charm, apparently.

  "Did you go for your horticulture classes today? Have you decided what kind of succulents you want to focus on?"

  "Oh, I have a few ideas. What do you think..."

  Rebecca didn't realize how easily he put her at ease by guiding the conversation back to all the things they had talked about before. He quickly stripped away all the discomfort of the setting, and he put her back in that comfort zone they had established by talking to each other for a week.

  By the time they ordered their main courses, Rebecca had forgotten all about her nerves, and her own natural charm and ease had come back.

  "But tell me how your retirement plan is working out. You're still working on it, aren't you? The traveling thing?"

  George grinned.

  "There are so many places to see. I've traveled, but mostly for work. It's so odd to think that I can go back to those places and see everything. This time, I can just follow my own schedule and do whatever I want to do. I'll be just another tourist. I can't wait."

  "Then what are you waiting for?"

  George chuckled.

  "Good question. I suppose I'm waiting for a sign. Anyway, I have to wait a couple of weeks before I really plan anything. My sixty-fifth birthday is coming up and apparently the people I love and who love me are determin
ed to make me feel exactly as old as I am by celebrating it."

  "That's wonderful. It's a milestone, isn't it? It's wonderful to look back at the life you've lived and know that you still have more milestones ahead of you, but less pressure. Well, except for the inevitable pressure of time."

  "You have such an optimistic way of looking at things. You know, Rebecca, I admire a lot about you, but that might very well be what I admire the most."

  Rebecca preened a little.

  The wine had been flowing freely, and it was lovely to watch the rather spectacular sunset with George. When she finally excused herself to go to the restroom, she felt as if she was floating. She hadn't had such a good time in... well, a long time.

  She'd had many happy times, and she loved the time she spent with her friends and her family, but this evening had made her feel like a woman - as if somebody was looking at her and seeing her, as a woman with wants and needs.

  She got back to her table to find that George had ordered dessert - a key lime pie, something she'd told him she loved, and something she knew hadn't been on the menu.

  "Oh. I... Thank you. This is lovely. It must have been a lot of trouble."

  "Just a couple of calls, and a little persuasion, and worth it to see that look on your face. Would you mind sharing it with me?"

  She had forgotten what a sensual experience it could be to share a dessert with a man. With a man like George.

  Each bite felt like something much more. Every touch of the fork against her lips felt like... something much more.

  "This has been a wonderful evening, Rebecca. I confess I don't want it to end. Would you come for a drive with me?"

  "I think you're well past the limit," pointed out Rebecca.

  "I have a car and somebody waiting. It won't matter."

  "Oh. This is... You've gone to a lot of trouble, with all of this. I feel a bit guilty," confessed Rebecca.

  "Don't be. I think I've earned the right to do exactly what I want, and what I want is to make this an evening you'll never forget. Because I'll never forget our first evening together."

  Rebecca sighed a little. It was all moving a bit too fast. This was just a first date. But time - how much of it could they afford to waste? What was she afraid of? There was nothing holding her back.