The Damaged Billionaire, page 9
“In a helicopter?” This is crazy. I have never had someone even drive anywhere to pick me up. A helicopter? For me?
“No, in my helicopter.” He sits back, a smirk growing on his face that I really want to put my lips on. I am shocked and sit unmoving for a beat, digesting the information. When I look around the restaurant this time, I see it’s empty. Only Tennyson and I are left, and two staff polishing glasses over near the bar.
“Tennyson, you can’t… I mean, we can’t…” I try to think of the right words to say. As much as I want to jump across this table and feel his arms on my body, I can’t go there. His reputation needs rebuilding. And if I am romantically connected with a client, my reputation may take a hit too. There are so many unknowns.
“I know, Willow. It’s all right. Eat your cupcake, and then I will take you home,” he says softly, looking serious, and I nod, taking another bite as he watches me in deep thought.
It is obvious that we both want the same thing. The electricity that runs between us is high voltage.
“I know we can’t…” he starts to say, and I look up at him. I remain silent, waiting for him, my heart thudding so hard I feel the vibration across my chest. “But, Willow, I want to. I really fucking want to.” It’s so sincere the way he says it, like it’s so much more than sex he’s got on his mind, and I melt. He is laying his cards out. He flew here to me in a helicopter to rescue me from the date, because he wants me.
“We can’t. My business means so much to me. I have worked hard over these past few years, and if I fraternize with a client, that could impact everything I have worked so hard for.” My voice is merely a whisper. This is so hard. The battle between my head and my heart is fierce. But I need to pull it together. I am a professional, goddammit. I clear my throat and straighten my spine. Rolling my shoulders back, I take a deep breath.
“You’re still coming to the business dinner, aren’t you?” he asks me, and I appreciate him getting back to work talk. That dinner has been on my mind lately. Harrison and Beth are putting it together. It will be a great opportunity to meet potential new clients, spread my name further afield and away from DC to help diversify my business. I have since learned that the who is who of business will be there, so I also need to be focused on making sure that Tennyson is positioned in a good light.
“I will be there to support you and make sure everything goes smoothly. I just need to organize something to wear.” My nerves dance because it will be the first time we will be together in a formal setting.
“You could wear a potato sack and look beautiful,” he says the words low, but his statement hits me square in the chest.
“We should go. I have a town car here to pick me up. He can take you wherever it is you need to go,” I say, my feelings about everything almost overwhelming. But it must be this way. Doesn’t it? His smile is small, but it is there. He knows. He knows it is merely a matter of time before I bend.
“Lead the way.” He watches me stand before he does as well, grabbing my jacket off the waiter and draping it around my shoulders himself. He stays close as we start walking, his hand on my lower back as he guides me out of the restaurant and out onto the street, and he doesn’t lift it until I am safely in the back of the car. His protective touch isn’t making this any easier. I see him take a moment outside before he rounds the trunk and jumps in the back seat with me.
The two of us are ending the night not at all how we would like to.
“So this is where you live?” Tennyson asks as the town car pulls up to my house. I am itching to get out of this car. The tension between us has me on edge. Sitting close to each other, yet careful not to touch. Talking about business yet trying not to get too personal. I am usually excellent at keeping things professional, but it is already harder than I ever thought it would be. The way he sits with confidence next to me, the perfect conversation flowing naturally, and the way I constantly feel his eyes skirt over my body… it all has my body zinging. If I don’t climb out of the car, I’ll be climbing all over him.
“This is it.” I admire my bungalow as it sits small and proud in my street.
“Suits you,” he says before he quickly gets out of the car. I grab my purse and open the door, just as he stands there to help me out. His hand encases mine so easily it is almost my undoing. But I don’t remove it. It is like my body, mind, and heart are all pushing me to him, and I can’t seem to fully control anything anymore. My body hums for him, his hand feels nice in mine, and for once, I just want to be the girl the guy wants to hold on to. I blow out my breath slowly as the car door closes.
“What do you mean by that?” I ask him as he walks me up the path to my door. My legs shake a little as my hand still sits in his. It should feel all types of wrong, but it doesn’t. It feels too right.
“It’s small, elegant, welcoming, just like you.”
“Well… there will be no welcoming tonight.” I don’t know why I say it. Maybe to remind myself. He only smiles, but it’s the knowing kind. “Thank you for the drive home. Please get home safely.” I am not sure how safe helicopters are at nighttime, but he’s got to leave, no matter what. As we reach my porch, I make no move to pull my hand from his. The two are glued together so tight, neither of us wanting to be the first to let go.
“The car will take me home. It will only be forty minutes from here. You are closer to Baltimore on this side of town,” he says with a grin. “You sure you don’t want to show me your bed socks?” His thumb leaves my hand momentarily, stroking my upper thigh.
I laugh, smacking his hand playfully. “Good night, Tennyson,” I say, smiling as he takes a step back toward the car, his handsome grin on full display, our arms still connected and stretching between us.
“Some other time then,” he says, giving me a wink, and our hands release as I wait and watch him get to the car before I open my front door and slip inside. As I close the door, I lean back against it, my legs giving way, my body sliding until my butt hits the floor.
I have no idea how I am meant to get through this next month or so. Work comes first, it always has. It is my anchor, it is what drives me, gives me purpose. I can’t jeopardize that.
All I have is my reputation. That is all I need to get the next job. People refer me. People learn about me and my services. If I were to start sleeping with a client, that could all go away in an instant. It would also attract the wrong type of clients in the future as well. I trust Beth, but I don’t really know the Rothschild men at all. If Tennyson and I were to take that step, who knows what the governor would do.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN - TENNYSON
It stinks, there are barking dogs everywhere, and my girl stops and makes a cutesy voice at every cage we pass, doing something to my insides that makes me feel like butter. My girl. I am not sure when it happened, but that is how I think of her. She is mine. I knew it the moment we met in New York. I knew it when I turned up on her date in DC. And I know it now.
“Ohhhh, look at this one! Hello, beautiful boy!” she says in a voice that makes me jealous for no other reason than she is calling something else beautiful and giving it all her attention.
“No. Too slobbery,” I mumble, looking at the massive Doberman that is currently sitting on guard, looking like he is about to bite Willow the minute the gate opens to his pen.
“Hello, little man!!” she says again as we pass by a cage that has one of the smallest dogs I have ever seen.
“It looks like a rat!” I say, scrunching up my face, not loving any of these options. Willow has talked me into getting a dog, and after serious consideration, I tend to agree with her that it is a good idea. Although no doubt an adjustment, I think it will be a positive step. A companion, a running partner, someone around the house. Something just for me.
“Well, what about this one? He is so squishy!” Her voice pitches a little, her hands making a squeezing motion as we pass a pug, the round animal snorting and scurrying. I bet he snores.
“No, too fat. He won't run with me.” I want a man’s dog. One with stamina, strength, grace.
“Which one do you like then?” she asks, looking at me, her eyes shimmering, a smile on her face. I would buy the whole damn center just to keep her smiling like that at me.
My eyes flick to the street outside, and I see a paparazzo arrive on a motorbike, followed by another. Clearly, it is a slow news week. Before they have their cameras ready, I reach out my fingers and brush Willow's hand, the one I want to hold but can’t. I just want to feel her skin on mine.
“None. Let’s go,” I say, looking for the nearest exit.
“No, you need to choose one. You can’t leave them all here,” she says, looking up at me, jutting out her lower lip, my eyes flicking to it quickly before I look back into her eyes. I want to lean down and bite it. I want to throw her over my shoulder, take her to my apartment, and spank her perfect ass. God, the things I want to do to this woman. She smiles at me then, her finger slightly curving around my own. We are not holding hands, merely touching, but the heat in our touch is everything. The two of us are so close to combusting, I can feel it. Her little touches scorch my skin, and I smile back, knowing that we are meant to be professional today, yet she can’t help but reach for me. I fucking love it.
“You stick that lip out at me again, and you need to be prepared for the consequences, Cupcake,” I growl, meaning every word.
“Cupcake?” she asks me with her brow raised.
“Sweet, individual, and delicious. Sums you up.” It also helps that she smells as sweet as a cupcake most of the time, her baking skills obviously getting a regular workout. She looks at me with a smile that could light up the entire universe, her eyes sparkling. Happy Willow is fucking illuminating, and I want to have her glowing every damn day.
“Paps have arrived,” I say to her, not wanting to break the moment, but I am already protective of her.
“Hmmm…” she hums, looking out the window as she snatches her hand back, and I scowl.
“Okay, back to these dogs. You can’t leave without one.” Her tone turns professional now, her eyes running over the cages.
“I can. They were here when we got here.” One thing I have learned from our time together is she is focused on work, and right now, I am her work, so getting me a dog is something she is taking very seriously. “What about when I travel? Who will look after it then?”
“A kennel or your brothers or depending on which one you get, I can dog sit.” All of a sudden, I want every damn dog in this place.
“They look happy enough here, no?” It is clean, the staff seem friendly, and the dogs are well kept.
“Yes, but they need a forever home, Tennyson.” I see the sadness in her eyes, knowing if she could rescue all of them, she would. This woman may be sassy and smart, but her heart is huge.
“Let me guess, you want to rescue all of them, am I right?”
“They should all have homes…” she grumbles, looking around at all the dogs as they bark and run around in their designated areas.
“Maybe I should just buy you this entire facility as their home for good,” I tease her, kind of liking the idea actually.
“Don’t you dare. We have to rein in your spending, not do more of it,” she sasses, thinking about me and my reputation again.
“Fine, what about him?” She could ask me for anything right now, and I would agree. I flick my head to one I have been eyeing since we came in, which I am sure is a mix of breeds, but looks like he has a bit of life to him.
“Ohhhh, too cute! His name is Bob!” she says, walking up to the cage and reading over his information.
“Bob? Who the fuck names a dog 'Bob’?” It needs to be something more manly. Like Buster or Beast.
“I named a cat Betty,” she says, coming chest to chest with me.
“Yeah, but that’s you,” I say with a shrug.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Her hand finds her hip. It’s supposed to be feisty, but it’s adorable.
“You know. You’re…” I look her up and down, my favorite sight, and I wave my hands over her appearance.
“I’m what?” Her eyes thin, her brow quirked.
“You know, cute and stuff.” I’m not able to hide the small grin appearing at ruffling her feathers.
“Cute? You think I’m cute?” she asks, her stance softening a little.
“Among other things, but cute is the most G-rated option I can think of.” Her body relaxes, and she rolls her eyes.
“Are you rolling your eyes at me?” I don’t think anyone else has ever rolled their eyes at me before, not like she does.
“So what if I am?” she asks, her stance strong again, and I chuckle. I am going to have so much fun fucking the sass right out of her. I am about to come back to her with a smart quip of my own, but I see a flash of cameras, and I straighten my spine. Willow does the same, putting distance between us that I don’t like.
“How about it, Bob? You want to come home with me?” I ask, squatting down to look at my new family member, and he lets out a bark and runs in a circle, chasing his tail. He is light brown in color, his eyes blue, his tail wagging happily.
“That sounds like a yes to me.” Willow says from beside me with a bright smile. This day is already feeling much better than any other morning I have had in recent months, and it’s all from seeing that curve of her lips directed right at me.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN - WILLOW
I push through my front door, the groceries hanging from my hands, leaving marks on my skin. Why I struggle to bring everything inside and not make two trips, I’ll never know.
“You’re home!” I hear Josh yell from next door. I look up and watch as he jumps the low hedge and runs up the front path to me, flashing me his big smile, yet eyeing the bags, knowing that they contain snacks for him. I hold the door open with my foot as he follows me inside.
“Yep. Are you hanging out with me today?” I ask. I can’t remember if I said I would watch him today, or if his mom is home and he is just after my candy jar.
“Nah, Mom’s home. But she is sleeping,” he says, flopping on my sofa and turning on the TV like he owns the place. Josh slept over here because she worked the night shift last night, so she must still be sleeping it off. “Did you get Cheerios?” he asks. They are his favorite, and he knows I am a sucker and buy them for him.
“Yes, in the bag. Help yourself.” He jumps up and joins me in the kitchen, the two of us moving around each other, him making a mess, and me cleaning it up. My cell rings and Tennyson’s name flashes on my screen.
“Tennyson?” I ask in question, tucking the phone between my shoulder and ear. I thought he would be too busy with his new sidekick to call me. I would like to say Bob has settled in well, but it’s been a week, and they are still having teething issues.
“He is eating my furniture, my new shoes are ruined, and he pissed on the kitchen floor!” he yells, his words coming so fast they run into each other.
“He is probably just excited to be in his new home. It is all still new.” I roll my lips to stifle my laugh.
“I need a new fucking sofa!” I can’t stop the giggle as it leaves my lips.
“Are you laughing? Go ahead and laugh. You are the one who now needs to come furniture shopping with me,” he says, still upset, although a little less stressed.
“Have you walked him?” I ask. “Maybe he just needs to stretch his legs?” I wonder if Tennyson has actually read the fact sheets on dog ownership I sent him.
“Yes.” Tennyson is short with his answer.
“When?” I don't believe him. I should get his assistant to put it in his diary and make it a priority. I write a note down for myself to do exactly that.
“Last week,” he offers.
“Last week? You need to walk him every day.” I shake my head, my eyes rolling. “And take a photo so we can put it up on Instagram this week.” I might as well get some good content to push out the old.
“I know, I know. I had plans to run with him every morning, but work is kicking my ass at the moment with early morning conference calls and late meetings.” He moans, but I can hear the clink of the lead so I know he is getting ready to do just that.
“Bob,” I say again, trying not to laugh.
“What?” he bites out.
“Bob, his name is Bob,” I repeat, knowing he hates the name.
“I am not calling him Bob.” I can’t wipe the smile from my face.
“Well, what are you calling him, then?” I ask, juggling the milk and juice as I put them in the refrigerator.
“You have a yard, don’t you?” he asks me, changing the subject so fast I get whiplash.
“What?” I ask mid milk placement, the fridge door banging against my arm.
“A house with a lawn? I'll bring him over. We can go through the week, and he can run at your place. Easy.” I can hear his elevator closing, knowing he is already on his way.
“Wait. What?” My bed socks and a movie with Josh isn’t how my afternoon is going to play out now, I guess.
“See you in thirty minutes.”
“Tennyson?” I say, but the phone is already dead. He’s gone, and now I need to change and clean the house before he gets here.
As promised, thirty minutes later, there is a knock at my door, and I open it to see Tennyson standing before me, looking tired with Bob in tow. The two make a very good-looking sight, Tennyson is in his jeans and white top that is stretched over his well-formed chest. His broad shoulders and thick arms are nearly my undoing and my grip on the door tightens a little so I don’t do something stupid like jump him.
“Hello, boy, look at you so cute and cuddly,” I coo as I squat down and give Bob my full attention so I don’t swoon over his owner. I scratch behind his ears, which earns me a slobbery kiss in response.
“Hey, I’m up here. Do I get a greeting like that?” Tennyson quips, but his eyes are soft as he takes me in. His shoulders are relaxing now that he is in my home.
