Billion Dollar Revenge (The Lincoln Brothers #2)

18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

Chelsea

I adjust the strap on my tank top, feeling the warmth of the day mixed with a hint of freshness that comes in May. I am currently trying to convince Colby, a dear friend, to join my new team. I’d like to make sure all my employees are also my friends. My previous boss, Colette, did that, and it worked well. The team members were more willing to help in times of need and they also worked harder.

We reach the building's entrance where I show him how to gain access. Once inside, I pause by the elevator doors.

“What hours are you interested in?” I ask, my hand hovering over the elevator button.

I’d like to have a mix of male and female trainers. Who can offer a variety of intensity and styles. Offering diverse trainers and classes will differentiate my studio to others.

“I’d prefer a minimum of three hours, so three classes when I’m on the roster.”

I nod, considering his preference. “I can do that.”

“What are you offering for weekends?”

“I’d prefer to roster people who want them.”

“That would be great. I’d prefer to keep my weekends free to visit my partner, but I’m willing to cover for others when needed,” Colby replies with a smile.

His affectionate look is contagious. It’s that look that fuel’s my desire for love, weddings, and parenthood.

“Long distance?”

He nods.

That sounds challenging. I’m not sure I could handle a long-distance relationship.

“I’ll schedule you Monday through Friday,” I decide, pressing the elevator button. Noting it’s on the top floor, I wonder for a second if Evan’s up there. What’s he doing?

I shake off my daydream. I’m unfocused because it’s been less than twenty-four hours since I last saw him. And I miss his voice, his spicy scent, and his heated touch that makes my knees weak.

When the doors open, I step inside on instinct.

“What floor?” Colby asks, when I haven't pressed a button.

I’m pulled back into work mode. “Sorry,” I say, reaching forward to press the second floor.

Just as the doors begin to close, a hand reaches out.

A smooth, deep voice penetrates the air, causing my knees to buckle. “There you are, Shell baby.”

Evan.

I turn to see him enter the elevator, dressed sharply in his crisp black suit. As I bite the corner of my lip, I watch his eyes narrow at Colby, not looking at me yet. His focus on the twenty-something-year-old man standing beside me is intense. A man I have zero attraction to. But Evan can’t read my mind. He won’t know why Colby is actually here and going upstairs with me. Colby visibly shrinks under Evan’s intense scrutiny.

To put both men out of their misery, I speak. “This is Colby?”

Evan moves beside me, his hand snaking across my lower back and pulling my body into his. His muscles are coiled tight. But his strong hand and affectionate touch is welcomed. I don’t think I will ever get sick of it. When you’ve needed and craved it for so long and to finally have it makes it hard to push away. Despite the unprofessionalism of the situation, I struggle to fight the craving I have for him.

I’d normally play along or get mad at his possessiveness, but I’m aware of his past. Evan needs reassurance; his lack of trust still weighs heavily on him, and it breaks my heart that he went through that.

“This is Colby. He’s looking at the studio because he’s a new trainer I’ve hired. We met during our Pilates course.”

Evan nods, drawing in a breath through his nose but keeping his eyes narrowed on Colby. “Nice to meet you. I’m Evan Lincoln.”

Colby reaches out and shakes Evan’s hand, his shoulders dropping away from his ears. He doesn’t seem to be intimidated by Evan anymore. Instead, his eyes shine with awe.

“Evan from The New York Press, right?”

Evan gives him a curt nod, still not entirely comfortable with Colby. “That’s me.”

Colby beams. “Nice to meet you.”

“My office is in this building too,” Evan adds, like he needs Colby to know that piece of information. It’s Evan’s way of subtly warning Colby that he’s keeping an eye on him. Or both of us? I shake off the idea; Evan shouldn’t distrust me because I’ve given him no reason to. “Have you seen the studio?” Evan asks.

“Not yet,” Colby says.

“I was getting to that,” I interject, tilting my head to gaze up at Evan and giving him a silent warning.

Evan dips his head to bring his face close to mine. His hot, minty breath tickles my face. “Did you want to have that meeting we never finished after you’re done showing Colby around?” He’s staring at me through his dark lashes with a mischievous glint in his eyes. I know what he’s insinuating, and a new ache stirs within me.

I should say no…

I let out a shaky breath. “I’m working.”

He quirks an eyebrow. “Afterwards?”

I ignore the flip of my stomach and give him a playful wink. “Maybe.”

The meeting with Colby is over. He took his contract to read over at home after I gave him a tour of the studio. He loved the place, and even offered to teach mat Pilates and yoga if it was something I wanted to offer. I would love that, so we talked about the layout and how many clients we could fit in a room for yoga.

I made a note to order more mats and any other accessories, like blocks that Colby suggested.

He was a great help, and we came up with some good ideas. He also recommended another trainer who would be a great fit. I tell him to share my number and have the person contact me. I have more interviews scheduled this week, but the more options, the better. I need additional staff for casual shifts.

Before I know it, half an hour has passed. I walk Colby downstairs, and as I wait by the elevator, I remember the way Evan grabbed me and called me Shell baby. I find myself grinning, strangely loving his possessiveness. I never thought I’d be into it, but with Evan, it feels right. Maybe it was because in my last relationship I was so out of control. With Evan, I willingly surrender the control because I trust him wholeheartedly to not hurt me. It’s both refreshing and sexy.

As I step into the elevator, my phone chimes. I pull it out, expecting it to be a delivery update, but it’s Bobby. I ignore it because I have zero interest in talking to him.

Another ping has me exhaling heavily. It's the delivery of towels and signage, but my jaw hits the floor when it says it’s been delivered and signed for.

I rub my forehead, wondering where it is. There’s been nothing left outside the studio door except a bouquet of roses, but I need my delivery for the opening, so I go back to the ground floor, and nothing is there either. When I go back up and pick up the roses, I notice the thorns are still intact and arranged perfectly. Putting them in the corner, I read the note. “Thinking of you, always.”

I don’t know who sent them, but I’m sure I’ll figure out which family or friend sent them. My concern right now is finding my delivery.

I call the company, who puts me on hold. When I’m finally off hold and talk to someone, they tell me it was delivered to another studio, which I haven’t heard of, but I tell them that's not where it was supposed to go. They can see that it's their error for not checking identification, and tell me they will try to fix it urgently.

My heart is in my throat. I need these on time. I don’t want any problems with my studio opening.

A knock at the door interrupts my thoughts. I move on autopilot to open the door. Evan is standing there with a concerned expression. I completely forgot about meeting him. Time got away from me.

I force a smile on my face. “I’m sorry. I got held up with work.”

His gaze shifts behind me.

I step aside to let him in.

“Working on?” he asks.

I glance around the room, but my mind races too slowly to think of a convincing lie.

“Something’s wrong.”

I wave off his concern. “Nothing is wrong.” I walk toward my laptop, and power it on, avoiding his penetrating gaze. I can feel it burning a hole through my head.

Leaning forward, he grabs my chin and locks his accessing eyes with mine. “No, something’s up.” He gestures toward the chairs.

I exhale deeply, and my cheeks puff out with force. Knowing I won’t win this argument, I lower my head, breaking his hold, and take a seat.

He settles opposite me. “Tell me what happened,” Evan insists, dragging my chair closer to him.

I lace my fingers, keeping my gaze fixed on him.

“My delivery was mixed up and they sent my sign and towels to another studio in another state,” I explain, but I must look like a mess because his nostrils flare, and my heart pounds rapidly in response.

“It might be faster to order new ones, or I can get someone to pick them up from the manufacturer. Do you want my helicopter?”

“No, they are making the job urgent. It should be here in time,” I assure him. I can’t believe he’d even offer to use his helicopter. Before I can thank him for that, though, his eyes flick to the roses.

“Who are they from?” And that rules out him buying them.

“I don’t know.”

“Bobby?” he asks, and then clenches his jaw.

“No. He never bought me flowers, and definitely never nice roses from a florist,” I reply without hesitation, gripping his hands, hoping he believes me. His gaze holds mine, the connection between us so strong it’s palpable.

“It could be Nova. She loves roses,” I say.

He nods. “True. Do you have anything else you need to do here?”

I shake my head. “Not right now.”

“Do you want to come back to my place?”

As much as I want him sexually, I’m exhausted. There's been so many changes recently that I just want to curl up on my sofa.

“I don’t know…”

“Not for that. To relax. I’ll make you a drink.”

“Okay, one drink.”

He gives me a wolfish grin before withdrawing one of his hands to grab his phone, quickly typing before putting it away. “Let's go.”

Rising, he pulls me up with him, our bodies facing each other. We share a moment, simply staring at each other, until his phone rings. The electricity bounces between us but the notification snaps him into action.

He grabs my bag and begins to pack it. “Did you want to bring your laptop?”

I lift an eyebrow. “Do you want me to work?”

“No, definitely not.”

“Then no, it can stay here. I can work tomorrow.”

He loops my bag over his shoulder. “Ready.”

As we take the elevator down, his hand stays on the middle of my back, then moves along to hold my hip. It’s a soft, subtle touch that melts me inside. Arriving at the car, he opens my door. I can't deny the giddiness warming my chest at such a simple gesture. I'm loving every moment of his attention. When you've never had this before, it feels incredible. This attention could be addictive.

I slip into the back seat and realize I'm heading to his house. I wonder what it's like. I bet it's spacious, clean, masculine, organized.

“Good evening, sir,” the driver greets Evan.

He dips his head. “My place.”

Inside the car, the air is combustible. I sink into the leather, and my body suddenly grows heavy.

He leans over, his face close to mine, and my breath hitches. What's he doing? My gaze drops down to his lips before locking eyes with him again, heart racing. His lips curl into a smirk as if he can read my thoughts.

"Your seat belt,” he murmurs, his voice low and his eyes dark and hooded. His breath brushes against my skin, sending a jolt of heat through me.

I blink, trying to steady myself. "Right," I manage to say, snapping out of my daze.

"What were you thinking about?" he asks.

His head is still close to mine. If I lean forward, our lips would touch. I resist the temptation, as thrilling as it may be.

"Your house. I wondered what it looked like inside."

"And what are you picturing?" he asks, his presence both suffocating and hypnotic.

I think about his office and rattle off the words that come to mind. "Grand, masculine, simple."

He moves his head close to my ear, the heat of his breath warm against my skin. I swallow, feeling a shiver run down my spine.

"You’ll see soon enough…nothing about me is simple."

My lips part, and I’m getting ready to respond, but he moves away, reaching for the seat belt to buckle me in. As his fingers brush my body, the touch sends shock waves through me, and as he pulls his body away from mine, I shudder from the sudden cold, longing for his closeness again. He sits back and settles beside me.

I shift my gaze to the window, lost in the pretty city lights in the sky and the buildings, trying to distract myself from being in close quarters with Evan, unable to touch him. Fingers brush against my thigh, and I startle, turning to meet his pinning gaze.

My head drops to find his large hand resting on my thigh. I've never had this before?a step into foreign territory. My body is igniting into an inferno. He's not moving, but his fingers do, trailing higher up my leg. I suck in a new breath, close my lips quickly together, and concentrate on breathing. I'm not going to come in this car. He hasn't even touched me yet, but I'm already feeling jittery.

Luckily, the drive is quick, and when the car stops beside a Central Park tower, my eyes bulge.

Let's talk about being right. It’s exactly what I was thinking?simple and manly.

When his hand disconnects from my thigh, I whimper.

Suddenly needing air, I move quickly, unbuckling my seat belt and opening the door, but he's faster. He pulls the door the rest of the way open and helps me get out. "It's my job to get the door," he says, his eyes telling me how serious he is.

I climb out, and the crisp night air hits me, instantly waking me up. Ignoring the chattering of my teeth, I step out and take in his sleek, modern material residence. Floor-to-ceiling glass windows wrap around the structure, giving the best panoramic views of the city. It makes me eager to get inside his place.

"I'm sorry..." The words start to fall from my lips.

"Don’t be sorry. It's been a long time since I?" His eyes flick to his door, then he closes it and walks me through the house. But I want to know what he was going to say.

"Since you what?"

"Since I've looked after a woman." His voice is soft and unsure, which is surprising for him. He clears his throat and changes the subject. “Let’s go.” Tugging my hand, he leads me inside. I wave to the driver, who gives me a small smile.

Inside the elevator, he presses the penthouse button.

“You're on the top floor,” I whisper.

“I own the entire building.”

Tilting my head, my mouth parts as I blink rapidly at him. The differences in our lives hit me. The money and power he has never bothered me before, but now I’m wondering if I’m enough to keep up with his world.

“No one else lives here?”

He squeezes my hand. “No.”

I turn to face the doors as they open, and we step out and enter his lavish penthouse.