The Billionaire's Boyfriend Read online

  They did not go snorkeling on Sunday. Gina seemed back to her regular, vibrant self—at least inside the closets. He had his regular work to do, but he managed to sneak away every day and see what she was doing in the apartment on the fifth floor.

  She told him about her lack of motherly role models and that she didn’t want to do to any child what had been done to her. Owen understood why she felt that way, he did. But he didn’t know how to tell her that becoming a mother didn’t make a person neglectful or bad. The drugs had done that to her mother, and Gina didn’t do drugs.

  He’d said nothing, choosing instead to listen to her and be there for her, hold her hand, and ask her what she needed.

  A week passed before she texted to say, I’m dying to run tomorrow. You up for it?

  He couldn’t say yes fast enough, and they made plans for their meeting at six o’clock in the lobby. He’d promised her he didn’t need to tell Zach and Cooper about their relationship until she was ready, but that meant they had to keep doing what they’d done before that lunch date that had changed the landscape of their friendship.

  She’d seemed fine with that, but when Owen showed up at Sweet Breeze the next morning and found her already out on the sidewalk stretching, her tiny running shorts and tank top revealing a lot of her tan skin, his blood ran hot. And he hadn’t even started exercising yet.

  “Morning,” he said in his most placid voice. He noticed she had new shoes and wondered if she’d run as fast today as she normally did.

  “Hey.” She grinned at him and came toward him like she’d step right into his arms and hug him.

  When she did exactly that, Owen wasn’t sure what to do. Breathing seemed normal, and he took a long drag of the scent of her hair—which was totally the wrong thing to do if he wanted to keep their relationship on the down-low.

  “Mm,” he said. “You smell like coffee and peaches.”

  Her arms around him tightened and then released, and he let her step away. “You ready?” She lifted her knees, and Owen almost groaned.

  “I’m old,” he said. “Keep that in mind, please. And we haven’t run for two weeks.”

  She simply grinned, and he liked that he’d gotten his flirty, fun Gina back. Her therapy was obviously helping, and he knew she’d been out with Lexie and Sasha shopping too.

  He let her set the pace as they ran east, away from Sweet Breeze, and down the road that curved toward Stacey’s bed and breakfast. The rhythm of his feet didn’t take long to find, and Gina did run a little slower than she had a couple of weeks ago.

  “So I have a truth for you,” she said between breaths.

  “Already?”

  “It’s about running.”

  “Okay, shoot.”

  “I only started a few years ago, when my partner left. Remember I told you about that?”

  Owen remembered, and he was glad she was telling him more important things than what kind of cake was her favorite. Though he’d liked learning about the German chocolate obsession, as well as the fact that she’d never owned a dog, was allergic to artichokes, and wanted to travel the world, it wasn’t the deep information he wanted to know about her.

  “Yeah,” Gina said. “I lost about fifty pounds, actually.” She glanced at Owen. “Because of the running.”

  “Do you actually like running?” he asked.

  “I like that it gives me something to focus on,” she said. “My therapist in Texas wanted me to find something outside of closets, outside of the business, to care about. I chose running.”

  Part of Owen wished she’d chosen something a little less physical—like jigsaw puzzles—but he did enjoy spending time with her first thing in the morning, with only palm trees for witnesses.

  They made it to their halfway point and turned around to head back to the hotel. A tiki torch in someone’s front yard caught his eye, and he said, “Hey, I forgot to ask you.”

  “Yeah?”

  He timed his breathing, hoping he could talk. Wow, it was amazing how out of shape he’d gotten in only two weeks. “There’s a luau next weekend Sweet Breeze is sponsoring. Maybe we could go together?”

  She tripped over her own feet and almost went down. Owen’s hand shot out and grabbed her arm, steadying her.

  “Like, a date?” She slowed her pace until they were almost walking. She was red-faced and sweaty, and Owen almost wanted to stop and walk back.

  “Yes,” he said. “Like a date. Isn’t that what we’ve been doing? Dating?”

  “Hanging out in a closet isn’t dating.”

  “Sure, it is,” he said. “It’s our brand of dating under the radar.”

  “So would the luau be over the radar?”

  “No,” he said. “You live at Sweet Breeze. We can simply sit by each other.”

  “Will the boys be there?”

  “Yes,” he said, quickly adding, “But Fisher and Stacey have asked them to sit with them at the head table.” He sucked at the air. “So it would just be me and you. Nothing more than what we do at the bagelry or the bistro. Everyone sees us do that.” Owen would like to take their relationship out of the shadows, but he sure did like keeping it private too.

  “All right,” she said. “I’ve never been to a luau.”

  “They’re pretty fun,” he said. “Great food, great entertainment.” He couldn’t talk anymore, not with his lungs on fire as they were.

  “And you’re coming to see the system that was delivered yesterday?” she asked.

  “Yes,” he almost grunted out. “Sometime this afternoon.” He managed to make it back to the hotel with her, and she didn’t seem nearly as out of shape as he did, which hardly seemed fair as she was the one who’d sustained a head injury.

  As they walked down the beachwalk toward the copse of trees that separated the bigger bay where Sweet Breeze sat from the east bay, he thought it would be natural to take her hand in his and lead her down to the water.

  Kiss her. Hold her close to his heart, and tell her he’d been thinking so much about her and ask her if she was falling as fast as he was.

  But they never held hands during their cool-down.

  She started a story about one of her foster families, and Owen kept his fantasies dormant by listening to her, trying to support her, and then pausing when they reached the trees.

  Gina finished with, “It wasn’t the worst house I’d been in. Huge lawn though, and I had to mow it every week.”

  He turned toward her and said, “How long were you there?”

  “Nine months.” She met his eye and stretched up on her toes, her lips skating against his cheek before he could process a single thought.

  “Thank you, Owen.” She settled back on her feet, but his name in her voice poured through his mind like warm coffee on a cold day.

  “For what?” he managed to ask.

  “For letting me figure things out.”

  “How’s that coming?” He went with her as she started back toward the hotel.

  “Good.” She smiled at the ground and then at him. “Really good.”

  “Must be,” he said with a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Because you just kissed me in front of your Beach Club.” He nodded toward the three women sunning themselves a dozen yards down the beach, all of them looking at Owen and Gina.

  Chapter Eleven

  Gina froze, her heart bobbing somewhere between her nose and the back of her throat. “Oh, great,” she whispered, horror in the two syllables.

  “It’s fine,” he said, nudging her toward them. “Just tell them I fixed a problem for you and it was a show of gratitude.” He bent his head toward hers. “Which it was. Not a lie.”

  A shiver from his breath against her neck made her shudder slightly. Then he retreated, straightening and waving to Stacey, Tawny, and Sasha before saying, “See you later, Gina.”

  He walked away without a care in the world, leaving her to face her friends alone. Which was fine. She
didn’t need to try to invent a reason for why she’d just kissed him on the cheek with him standing beside her.

  Stacey waved at her to come join them, and Gina stepped onto the sand, excuses running through her mind.

  “Hey, guys,” she said, taking a spot of sand though the grains stuck to her skin in an uncomfortable way. “You’re out early today.”

  “I have to teach at eight,” Tawny said.

  “My stand opens at eleven,” Sasha added.

  “And I just needed some sun early,” Stacey said. “You’re running again?”

  “Yep.” Gina popped the P. “Feeling great.”

  “Obviously.” Tawny lowered her shades. “I’m pretty sure I just saw you kiss Owen Church.”

  “Oh, no.” Sasha shook her head emphatically. “Don’t you remember she’s told us over and over and over that they’re just friends?” Her tone carried only sarcasm, and she flashed a friendly smile at Gina.

  “Yeah, because I kiss all my friends on the cheek too,” Stacey said.

  “They do in Australia,” Gina said. Or she thought they did. “England. All of Europe, actually.”

  All three women looked at her, and Gina shrugged. “He did something to save me some embarrassment with the closets. I was just saying thank you.”

  “With your lips.” Sasha quirked one eyebrow.

  “How else do you thank someone?” Gina asked, throwing some attitude right back at her friend. Besides Lexie, Sasha was Gina’s closest friend.

  “A note,” Stacey said.

  “Email,” Tawny added. “Text. A gift card. Cup of coffee.”

  Gina started laughing and said, “All right. I get it.”

  Her friends grinned at each other like they were about to get a real treat. Gina closed her eyes and let the morning Hawaii sun bathe her in golden light.

  She’d never felt this content in Texas, not even when Classy Closets had been named one of the fastest growing companies in the world, or when her shares had topped one billion dollars.

  “So?” Stacey said, shattering Gina’s peace. “Are we going to get the real story?”

  Gina opened her eyes, a decision made. “Yeah,” she said. “I’m moving here permanently. Will you guys help me find a house?”

  They clearly weren’t expecting that, but Sasha recovered first. “There are nice places up where I live. I could check and see if there are any for sale.”

  “Sure,” Gina said. “Thanks, Sasha.”

  “I'm not helping until I know if you’re dating Owen,” Tawny said, her voice a bit on the petulant side.

  Owen’s words about how he wouldn’t hide the relationship from his sons cascaded through Gina’s mind. If she told her friends, she would essentially be admitting she was ready to take their undercover relationship into the light.

  “I’m not quite sure.” She spoke slowly, as if she didn’t know how he felt about her. But she saw the way he watched her, the desire in his eyes whenever they were alone together, the deliberate questions to draw her outside of herself.

  The door between them was definitely open, but she hadn’t invited him in all the way yet.

  If she told her friends, she could. And that was as scary as it was appealing.

  “Do you like him?” Tawny asked.

  “Yes,” Gina said honestly. “There’s a lot about him to like. Some things I’m still working through.” That much was true. She looked at her friends. “So, can I pass with a maybe?”

  Stacey grinned and nodded. “Works for me. But I want details as maybe moves into yes.”

  “What if it doesn’t?” Gina asked.

  “Oh, please, girl. Have you seen the way that man looks at you? He’s just waiting for your maybe to become a yes too.” Stacey settled back into her beach chair, her participation in the conversation clearly over.

  Gina looked at Sasha, who said, “I agree with Stacey. And Owen’s a great guy.”

  He was a great guy, and when Gina asked, “So, Tawny, will you help me find a place?” the beach yoga instructor said, “Sure. Do you want a big house like Jasper’s or something more low-key, like a condo or a beach house?”

  Gina had no idea what she wanted. “I’ll think about it.” Sometimes not having dreams made the simplest of tasks difficult. As a teenager, she simply wanted control. Organizing things had been so appealing to her, she’d seized on that in college and done whatever it took to get her degrees and get her business off the ground.

  She’d never much cared where she lived, but as she laid on the beach with her friends, she let her imagination run wherever it wanted.

  By the time Tawny started packing up, Gina knew. She got up with Tawny and said goodbye to the other women.

  As they walked back to Sweet Breeze together, Gina said, “I want a house. But nothing huge. Something quaint, with a small yard.” Something she could organize and control on her insane schedule.

  Tawny grinned and hugged her. “I’ll start looking around. I have a friend who’s a real estate agent. Oh! Did you know Owen used to sell real estate?”

  Gina had not known that, and she said as much. “Maybe I’ll ask him.”

  “I would.” Tawny waved as she detoured toward her class beach area, where a few people had already gathered.

  Gina went up to her room, showered, and went down to the suites on the fifth floor. She put the shelves on the hardware she’d installed yesterday.

  The island had been installed a few days ago, and she pulled open the whisper-quiet drawers and let them slide back closed again.

  “This is perfect.” The formal wear rack had been hung yesterday, and now she needed to get the full-length mirrors in the dressing room that somehow Owen had worked his magic to get built in only ten days.

  Gina worked in the silence, letting her mind focus on the tasks at hand. Everything else faded away, just like it did when she ran, and she made all the lines match up, the corners at perfect ninety-degree angles.

  She finished just after noon and stood in the corner, admiring the perfect organization that could happen in here now.

  She stepped into the dressing room just as Owen did, almost knocking heads with him.

  “Oh.” She cried out and stumbled back. Her heart leapfrogged itself and then settled as she took in his perfect physique and stylist suit.

  “I wasn’t expecting you until later.”

  “I passed a job to someone else.” He gazed at himself in the mirror. “This looks great.”

  “There will be a bench here.” She indicated the long wall facing the door that entered the closet. “But they won’t come until almost the end.”

  “This is the end,” Owen said. “They’ll be done in the main part in a couple of days.”

  Gina spun toward him. “So I should order the benches?”

  “Yes, then we can start renting this room.”

  “Oh, I thought we were doing them all and then renting.”

  Owen looked at her, his business face in place. “No, we want to rent as the rooms become available.”

  Gina’s nerves didn’t like this change of plans. “Is there somewhere for me to store the benches?”

  “Of course.”

  “So I’ll get those ordered today. I’ve got enough systems for all the one-bedroom units.”

  “And four of them are waiting for you.”

  Four. Waiting for her to get them under control. She wanted to start working on the next one immediately, despite the pinch in her calves that said she shouldn’t have run so fast or so far this morning.

  She started nodding and couldn’t stop. “I’ll move on to the next one today.”

  “All right.” Owen’s face softened and he let his fingers drift down her bare arm. “What did you tell your friends this morning.”

  Gina leaned into him, the crisp, masculine scent of him so irresistible. “We’re at the maybe stage.”

  “So you didn’t lie.”

  Gina jerked back. “You think we’re at the maybe stage?”

>   Owen’s expression darkened. “Well, we haven’t…taken the next step. Feels like maybe to me. Which I’m fine with,” he rushed to add. “Honestly, I am.”

  But Gina thought she heard a note of doubt in his voice.

  “By the way, I like these shorts with the camo pockets.” He grinned down and her. “Do you have time for lunch?”

  “What time is it?” He pinged from one subject to another so quickly, Gina couldn’t keep up.

  “Almost one.”

  “I have an appointment at two-fifteen.”

  “So a quick lunch.” He threaded his fingers through her ponytail and wrapped his arms around her. “Yes?”

  “Yes.” She leaned into him, so far that if he let go of her, she’d fall. She had a distinct feeling in that moment that she’d been falling for a while now. Falling in love with the handsome general manager.

  “What does it take to get to the next level with you?” she asked, her gaze dropping to his mouth. The need to kiss him reached epic proportions, but she forced herself to wait. She had no idea what she was doing. She hadn’t kissed a man in a very, very long time, and she had no idea if she was even any good at it.

  “I don’t know,” he said in a husky voice. “We haven’t told Zach and Cooper about us. We haven’t kissed. We—”

  “So if we kiss, I can get us out of maybe?”

  “Maybe,” Owen said playfully, his grip tightening along her waist.

  Her pulse volleyed around her body, almost painfully. “Owen?”

  “Mm?” He swayed slightly, and she looked up to find his eyes already closed.

  “I’m going to kiss you now.” She stretched up and he leaned down, and the first touch of his lips to hers sent fire roaring through her.

  He pulled back slightly, and then claimed her mouth completely, this time not a peck, not a touch or a brush, but a kiss.

  And wow, the man, despite not dating for a decade, certainly knew how to make her feel treasured as he kissed her and kissed her and kissed her.

  Chapter Twelve

  Owen had not been kissed by a woman in a long, long time. He’d forgotten the gentle touch of female fingertips along his neck, his ear, and up into his hair.