The Billionaire's Kiss (The Sherbrookes of Newport Book 14)

by Christina Tetreault

  In the kitchen, she pulled out the eggs and dropped two slices of bread in the toaster before removing a pan from the cabinet. After cracking the eggs into it, she carried the pan over to the stove and came to a dead stop.

  “Dumb, dumb.” She shook her head. Unlike at home, the cottage had an electric stove, so unless she managed to start a fire in the middle of the kitchen, she wouldn’t be cooking eggs or anything else this morning. But hey, it wasn’t like she’d starve or anything. She still had bread and plenty of peanut butter. She’d make herself a sandwich and keep her fingers crossed that by lunchtime, the stove and every other appliance in the cottage worked again.

  Removing the bread from the toaster, she opened both the peanut butter and marshmallow fluff Mrs. Lambert purchased for her weeks ago but that she’d yet to touch. Thoughts of wrapping herself in a few more layers kept her from eating slowly and lingering in the kitchen. According to the thermostat on the wall, the inside temperature had dropped to fifty-nine already. Fifty-nine degrees might be fine for a nice brisk walk outside while bundled up, but when it referred to the temperature of her living room, it was another story.

  I’m not going to freeze to death. She had several sweatshirts and blankets. She’d just head upstairs, add on another layer, and wrap herself in a blanket. And if she got really desperate, she could always go turn on her car and sit inside for a little while to warm up. Yep, having no heat or electricity wasn’t the end of the world. It was merely an inconvenience to deal with today.

  Three hours later, she wished Holly had known someone with a cottage on a sparsely populated tropical island instead of a campground in northern New Hampshire. Either that, or that she’d been smart enough to get firewood delivered for the woodstove. Even with multiple layers of clothes on and wrapped in the comforter from her bed, she was cold. And the temperature wasn’t the worst of her problems either.

  She hadn’t considered the source of the cottage’s water supply. Never in her life had she needed to. But if she had, she would’ve known not to flush the toilet and fill her water bottle, because now the well was empty, and without electricity, the pump couldn’t refill it, and that meant no water until the power came back.

  If some parts of town had electricity, perhaps the Lamberts had heat and running water. Even if they didn’t, maybe they had a generator or a fireplace with a raging fire in it. The last time Holly’s mom stopped over, she’d once again reminded her to call if she needed anything. You could consider heat something, and she needed it right now. Juliette exchanged her e-reader for her cell phone.

  Instead of hearing Mrs. Lambert’s voice, Juliette got the woman’s voice mail after a few rings. Without leaving a message, she disconnected the call. Unfortunately, Holly had left town on Monday and returned to New York, so there was no point in trying her. That reduced the number of people Juliette knew in town even further, and three of them were in Boston for the weekend. Since the home was on the same property, it wouldn’t have power either, but it had a woodstove. More importantly, she’d seen the log rack full of firewood next to it. She didn’t doubt that everyone up there, except for perhaps Tiegan, knew how to get a fire going safely.

  She didn’t have Aaron’s phone number, but she could call the office line. If he didn’t answer, she could drive up to the house. But then what? While he was polite whenever she saw him, they weren’t exactly what you would call friends. Asking a friend to let you hang out and warm up was one thing. Asking a relative stranger if you could come inside until your place had heat again was entirely different.

  Before she decided either way, someone knocked on the front door. As if her thoughts had conjured him up, she found Aaron standing on the little porch when she peeked out the window.

  “Come on in.” As she moved away from the door, she pulled the comforter more tightly around her.

  Stepping inside, he closed the door before any more chilly air could make its way inside, as if it really mattered all that much at this point. “I wanted to see how you were doing.”

  “A little cold.” Would he consider it rude if she asked to spend some time at his house? At this point, did she care what he thought of her if it meant her fingers were no longer numb?

  His eyes darted toward the woodstove and the empty log rack before he focused on her face again. “You’re welcome to come to my house. I don’t have power either, but it’s warm there.”

  If it didn’t require unwrapping herself from the blankets, she’d hug the man.

  “I talked to Robby, a buddy of mine who works for the electric company. Much of the state is out, so it will probably be a while before the power is back. You’re welcome to spend the night if it doesn’t come back today. I can wait for you to pack a few things, or you can drive up to the house when you’re ready.”

  If she took her car, she wouldn’t need him to drive her back once the electricity returned. “I’ll meet you up there.”

  “Sounds good. I’ll see you in a few minutes. I’ll leave the front door unlocked. Just come in when you get there.”

  She’d rather not have to stay the night. If the power didn’t come back, though, she didn’t want to sleep here with no heat or water either, so she tossed a few things, including her toothbrush and e-reader, into one of the reusable shopping bags Mrs. Lambert had left behind and headed out.

  The scent of wood burning and Clifford greeted her when she stepped inside Aaron’s house. She’d never owned a pet. It wasn’t so much because she didn’t like animals but more that she didn’t want the responsibility of caring for one. She enjoyed being able to come and go as she pleased without having to worry about boarding a furry friend or finding someone to watch it. That being said, she liked Clifford. The mutt—at least she thought he was a mutt because he didn’t resemble any breed she was familiar with—was one of the friendliest dogs she’d ever met. And according to Candace, the dog was also protective of Tiegan.

  “Hello,” she called out as she ran her hand across the dog’s head and down his neck.

  “Make yourself at home. I’ll be right there.” Aaron’s voice came from the vicinity of the kitchen.

  She didn’t need to hear his suggestion twice. Juliette left her bag by the door and headed straight for the woodstove. Stripping off her gloves, she held her hands toward it. Ah, heat. She closed her eyes and let the warmth roll over her.

  “If you sit on the sofa, Clifford will cuddle up next to you. He’s almost as good as an electric blanket.”

  Opening her eyes, she found Aaron standing there, a mug in each hand. He’d ditched his jacket and wore a dark green flannel shirt over a black thermal undershirt. The flannel shirt amplified the color of his eyes, while the fitted undershirt showcased his chest and trim waist.

  “When I left the cottage, you looked like you could use something hot to drink.” He handed her one of the steaming mugs. “I didn’t know if you liked anything in your tea, so I left it black. But help yourself to the milk and sugar.”

  First, the man invited her to his blissfully warm house, and now he made her tea. If it wouldn’t either make things incredibly awkward or get her kicked out, she’d kiss him. Who was she kidding? She’d been thinking about kissing him all week. Actually, this morning before the phone had so rudely woken her, she’d been about to do more than kiss him in her dream.

  “Thank you.” Even though she preferred her tea with a splash of milk, she took a sip before setting the mug down so she could remove her jacket. The hot liquid coursed down her throat, warming her insides much like the way the fire was warming her skin. “I hope this doesn’t affect the ballet. When I was here Thursday, it was all Tiegan could talk about.”

  “I got off the phone with my sister right before you got here. They never lost power in Boston.”

  The words “lucky them” sat on the tip of her tongue. But before she uttered them, she reconsidered. If not for the storm and the lack of electricity, she wouldn’t now have an opportunity to get to know Aaron better, something
a part of her had wanted to do since she first saw him in the woods. “That’s good. I’ve never seen anyone quite so excited as your niece when she told me about the tickets you got her for her birthday.”

  When Aaron had been in high school, he’d worked at the campground in the summer rather than at Gorman’s Shop and Save or the fast-food restaurant in Ashford, the two most popular places for teenagers to get part-time jobs. He’d done whatever his dad or the maintenance personnel his parents employed during the season told him to do. They’d never sent him to check on the welfare of a guest. As far as he knew, it wasn’t something his parents or any employee ever did either.

  Until today.

  Although used in the winter, the cottages weren’t as well insulated as his house, so whatever heat had been in the cottage before the power went out would quickly escape. Thanks to its size, the woodstove could heat Juliette’s whole cottage, making it comfortable. When Juliette had checked in, Mom would’ve told her she could get firewood from Valley Landscaping. She told everyone who stayed at the campground regardless of the time of year about the company because a lot of people liked to have campfires and they offered the best prices. He hadn’t known if Juliette had bothered to call them. And even if she had, he’d doubted the woman would know how to get a fire going.

  At first, he’d told himself Juliette and the conditions she found herself in weren’t his problem. She was a grown woman and should be able to take care of herself. His conscience disagreed. And throughout the morning, images of her sitting on the sofa with blue lips shivering kept popping up in his head. By lunchtime, they were no longer popping up from time to time but instead stuck there. Even still, when he got in his truck, he hadn’t planned on inviting her to stay with him. Instead, he intended to check on her and give her the firewood he’d thrown in the bed of his truck as well as a quick lesson on how to use the woodstove before returning to the comfort of his house.

  His nice, quiet, empty house.

  When she’d opened the door with the comforter wrapped around her, shivering, his original intention went out the window. At that moment, he’d wanted to wrap his arms around her, pull her in close, and give her whatever body heat he possessed. Before his body could do something completely inappropriate, his mouth invited her to stay with him rather than offer her the wood in the car. With her sitting mere feet away, all he could do was make the best of it and hope he didn’t do something stupid like kiss the very lips that had pleasured him last night in his erotic dreams.

  “Are you hungry?” Without being able to use the stove or the microwave, she would’ve been limited as to what she could prepare. “I already ate lunch, but I can make you something.” If she wanted food, he could remove himself from the temptation that was Juliette Belmont and not appear rude.

  She lowered the mug from her mouth and licked a drop of tea off her bottom lip. Although a perfectly innocent action, his body responded. Yep, he needed to make more of an effort when it came to his social life. Something as simple as a woman licking her bottom lip should not be affecting him unless maybe she sat there naked while doing it.

  “No, thanks. I had a peanut butter and fluff sandwich not long before you came.”

  So much for having an excuse to leave the room. “My mom used to pack me those for lunch a lot when I was a kid.” They needed to talk about something. It was either that or sit there and stare at each other.

  “Until I was about nine or ten, the only kind of sandwiches I would eat were peanut butter and jelly or peanut butter and fluff.”

  Food was a nice safe topic. “At least you’d eat a sandwich. My older sister, Elise, wouldn’t touch them. It used to drive my mom crazy. When Elise started middle school, Mom gave up and made her get her own lunch ready.”

  “When I was in middle school, I decided to become a vegetarian. No matter what Paulette prepared for dinner, if it contained meat, I wouldn’t touch it. My brother and sister thought I’d lost my mind. I lasted three months before the need for a hamburger did me in.”

  He didn’t know who Paulette was, and he didn’t intend to ask. However, based on the little he knew about Juliette, he assumed she was an employee of her parents. “Yeah, I wouldn’t even make it three weeks without meat. Salads are great as an add-on, but they’re not a main meal.”

  Somehow, they managed to keep up a conversation about food for over an hour. And by the time Juliette’s cell phone rang, he knew everything from her favorite kind of pizza—if anyone had asked him to guess, he would’ve said she preferred ones topped with veggies, not sausage—to the fact she refused to eat lamb. While she took the call, he added two more pieces of wood to the fire and made them both more tea. Her phone call didn’t last long, though, because by the time he returned with their drinks, her cell phone was on the end table, and she was petting Clifford. As he predicted, as soon as she’d sat down on the sofa earlier, the dog had jumped up next to her.

  Once they’d exhausted the topic of food, he’d asked if she played chess. For his birthday years ago, his parents had purchased him a beautiful marble chess set. Since until a few months ago, he’d spent his entire adult life living alone, he didn’t get many chances to use it. Honestly, it’d probably gotten more use in the past seven months while he’d been teaching his niece to play than in the almost ten years he’d owned it. Perhaps at a loss for a conversation topic as well, she’d immediately agreed. They’d been playing ever since. Whatever else he might think about Juliette, she was a damn good chess player.

  “You were right about Clifford. With him around, you never need a blanket.” She ran her hand down the dog’s back again. Since Juliette had been there, he’d left his spot on the sofa next to her only once.

  “He’s a decent vacuum too. If food falls off a plate, he’ll get it before it hits the floor.” Aaron studied the board for a moment and then looked up. “How about we take a break?” He always struggled to concentrate when he was hungry, and thanks to his empty stomach and the beautiful woman across from him, his head wasn’t on their game. “I can make us some dinner, and then we can finish the game after we eat.”

  While he was up, he’d get out some flashlights and candles. The sunlight streaming through the windows gave them enough light to see for the moment, but the sun would be setting soon.

  Aaron didn’t wait for an answer before he stood up. Even if she wasn’t ready to eat a meal, he’d get himself a snack from the kitchen to hold him over.

  She unfolded her legs, and in response, Clifford, who had been using her thigh as a pillow, opened his eyes. “Sounds like a plan.” She came to her feet. As if that was some kind of cue, the dog jumped down and started wagging his tail. More than likely, he hoped some food was in his immediate future. The dog often thought more with his stomach than the organ in his head.

  Without a word, Juliette followed him down to the kitchen. Of course, he didn’t need her to say anything to know she was there. His body somehow knew she stood close enough that if he turned, he’d be able to touch her. And if he touched her, he might try to kiss her. Who knew where that might lead, especially since they had the house to themselves.

  When he woke up, having a guest for dinner hadn’t been on his agenda. If it had been, he would’ve thawed out some chicken or pork chops. “We don’t have too many options.”

  Before he did anything else, he took out the rechargeable lantern he kept under the kitchen sink. Although it was still at least an hour until sunset, shadows filled the room, and he saw heavy clouds moving in over the lake. Switching the device on to its lowest setting—unless pitch-black outside, the highest option was far too bright—he set it on the counter. Canned soup and pasta were two things he always kept on hand since both were quick and easy to make. He’d had pasta and meatballs last night and would rather not have it again.

  “We’ve got plenty of canned soup and sandwich meat.”

  “Sounds good. What can I do to help?”

  Slapping together a sandwich and heating soup di
dn’t require much effort, and it wasn’t a two-person job. “Don’t worry about it. What kind of soup do you want? We’ve got chicken noodle, beef barley, and tomato.”

  “Chicken is fine.”

  Once he had the soup heating on the stove, he got out everything to make sandwiches. His mom always insisted guests got served first, and at some point in his life, he’d adopted her theory. “What kind of sandwich would you like?”

  Juliette’s hand covered his as he reached for the bread. Heat hotter than the flame under the saucepan on the stove shot across his skin. “I can make the sandwiches for us. Just tell me what you want.”

  You. “A little of everything. And while you take care of this, I’ll get some flashlights and candles from the garage.”

  Maybe while he was out there, he’d find his common sense too, because the more time he spent around Juliette, the more he wanted to take his sister’s advice and see what happened if he asked her out.

  When he came back, two sandwiches sat on the counter, and Juliette stood at the stove mixing the chicken soup. Although he’d seen her in his kitchen several times, he’d never noticed just how right she looked there, as if she actually belonged, which was bizarre because in another two months or so, she’d check out and they’d never see her again.

  “I lowered the heat because it was boiling.”

  “Thanks.” She’s not sticking around. He sent himself the mental reminder and got out two bowls. “If you want to get something to drink or start eating, I’ll take care of this.” He waited for her to move so he could fill the bowls. Rather than move away, she turned off the stove, removed the bowls from his hands, and set them down.

  Stepping closer, she met his eyes and gestured toward the stack of magazines on the counter that hadn’t made it into the recycling bin. Even without looking, he knew her face graced the cover of the one on top. He also remembered the headline above the picture.