Billion Dollar Revenge (The Lincoln Brothers #2)

23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23

Chelsea

I arrive home to find Nova visiting. Summer and Nova both turn to look at me as I enter.

Their faces are bright with curiosity.

“What are you girls doing?” I ask, though I suspect they’re here to find out about my time with Evan.

“Nothing, we're just wondering where you’ve been.”

I drag out a chair and sit down, noticing the teacups in front of them.

“Well, I’ve been officially dating Evan.”

“I fucking knew it,” Summer shouts, causing me to giggle.

Nova smiles knowingly at me. Now that they’re eager for my news, it adds to my excitement. I can't wipe the smile off my face.

“It’s so good,” I say, trying to downplay the flutters in my stomach when I think of Evan.

“You like him.” Nova smirks into her tea.

“She’s smitten, you mean,” Summer adds.

“All of the above,” I reply with a grin. These are my best friends. I tell them everything; we’ve been through thick and thin together since school.

Both girls stay quiet as they eagerly wait for me to discuss what happened with Evan.

They’ve been through everything with Bobby, so it's nice to have something positive to say.

“At first, you know how he suggested we date to piss off Bobby…Well, then we forgot about it, and just started hanging out and realized we both liked each other.”

“I’m glad he’s treating you good,” Nova says.

“God, he’s everything I've ever wanted. Plus, he's an old-fashioned gentleman,” I gush in a ramble.

“Why is old-fashioned good?” Summer asks, her face pinched.

Nova wears a knowing smile?she is dating his brother, so she knows exactly what I mean.

“He opens doors, makes sure I’ve eaten, and that I’m warm. He makes me feel cared for.”

“Yeah, men these days suck. They don’t open doors. They don’t even pay the full bill. They lie,” Summer replies with a sigh.

“That’s why he’s so different,” I say.

The girls look at me with the same awestruck expression I wear. They’re happy for me.

My phone chimes, interrupting our conversation.

The girls drink their tea, and Nova tells Summer how the boys must have learned a lot from their parents and Gram.

I check my phone and see it’s a text.

“Is that him?” Summer asks.

“Yeah,” I reply, laying my phone back down without opening the message.

“Read it,” Nova says.

You don't need to tell me twice. I’m dying to know what he’s written.

I pick it up and swipe my finger across the screen to read it.

Evan: My house feels cold without you.

My teeth dig into my bottom lip as my stomach flutters.

Me: I miss you too .

After hitting send, I put my phone away. But my mind is still high from the idea that he misses me. It’s only been an hour, and I'm already getting a text.

“You deserve this,” Nova says.

“About time,” Summer adds. “Now, tell us more.”

I clear my throat before replying.

“It just kind of happened. Like, we've been avoiding it.”

“Until you can't take it any longer,” Summer interrupts, wiggling her eyebrows at me.

I laugh. “Exactly. We snapped, and it was perfect.”

I feel my cheeks tingle from the memories of the orgasms he gave me. It’s been a long time since I’ve had one with a guy. Now being with Evan, I'm craving it.

“When will you see each other again?” Nova asks.

My phone dings again, but I keep my gaze on Nova's inquisitive eyes.

“I don't know. We didn't make plans.”

I didn’t think that was an issue, and his text message confirms I don’t need to worry about that with him.

I check my phone.

Evan: When can we see each other again?

A bubble of laughter leaves my chest. I turn the phone over to show them the message. “Looks like he's thinking what you guys are thinking,” I say, letting them read his text.

We’re both missing each other, which is nice. It’s good to feel wanted. He’s so different. He asked to make plans with me again. It's not me making the plans or seeking him out.

He wants me. He wants to hang out with me.

The girls talk amongst themselves, so I text back.

Me: Tonight?

Evan: Come over to my beach house. I’ll arrange the ride.

I put my phone down and announce it to the girls. “I'm seeing him tonight.”

“Where are you two going?” Nova asks.

“He's suggesting we just go to his beach house,” I tell them.

“That sounds nice,” Nova comments.

“Sounds hot,” Summer adds with a smirk.

“We've been out a couple of times already, so it'd be nice to just chill. Maybe watch a movie or something,” I explain.

“Damn, girls, where do I find one of these men?” Summer jokes.

“They have two...” Nova starts.

But Summer interrupts her. “I’m not interested in one of the brothers.”

“Your time will come. Don’t rush it,” I advise.

“You'll know when the person's right,” Nova adds.

Summer sighs heavily. “Well, let's hope it's not too long. You know, I would like to have kids at some point.”

I understand that feeling. I've always wanted kids and marriage. I haven’t asked Evan what he wants because it feels too early. I’m sure it will naturally progress just like our relationship has so far.

But I'm hopeful because it's been a dream of mine since forever. And the quick flash of the future makes me smile as I imagine Evan standing in a black tux, waiting for me at the end of an aisle, makes my stomach flip.

“Well, girls, I need to go meet Jeremy soon,” Nova says, pushing her chair out and putting her cup in the dishwasher.

My phone pings again, and I struggle not to read it because I'm not used to my messages blowing up from a guy.

“I might head to the studio and get a workout in. Summer, do you want to come?” I ask.

Both of them laugh.

Summer snorts. “No chance.”

“That’s my cue to leave,” Nova says.

“I’m not just working out; I need to build my website too.”

“You need to pay someone to do that,” Summer says.

“You’re taking on so much,” Nova says.

“I’m not, it's fun, and if I get stuck Evan will help me,” I tell them.

Standing, I walk with Summer to the door, where we say goodbye to Nova.

I get ready and head to the studio. I feel much better from stretching and taking myself through one of the workouts I plan to teach. After I open my computer, I begin playing around with the website and the booking system.

After half an hour, I'm a little hot and sweaty. It hasn’t been as smooth as I originally thought.

My phone rings.

Looking at the screen, I see Evan’s name flashing.

I smile, unable to believe that this guy keeps calling and messaging me.

“Hello.”

“What are you doing?” he asks.

“I'm in the studio, trying to add the booking system.”

He must hear the stress in my voice. “You okay?”

I blow out a breath, trying to calm myself down so I don’t cause him to panic. “Yeah, it's just a little tricky, that’s all.”

“I'll come and help you out.”

“I don't want to disturb you,” I say in a rush, trying to prevent him from helping me instead of doing his work.

“You’re not.” The sincerity in his voice has my shoulders dropping in relief.

“It would be nice to have some help,” I admit, smiling to myself.

“I'll be there soon.”

He hangs up, and I sigh in relief.

Ten minutes later, he knocks on my office door.

I remember that he has a key to let himself into the top floor but not inside my studio. Getting up from my desk chair, I move to the door and open it up for him.

He’s looking freshly shaved, and I take in his designer gray and white pinstripe suit and matching gray tie. There’s not a hair out of place from whatever styling gel he uses to keep his waves secured. During my inspection, he bends to capture my lips with his in a hard but brief kiss.

“Hey, Shell.”

“Hi,” I breathe.

I look up at him with new butterflies filling my stomach. My mouth is wide open as I stare at him for a moment, still unable to believe that he's here to help me.

“Come inside.” I gesture to the studio. He strides in, and I close the door as he moves straight to the little office where my white desk is. I don't even have to tell him; he's already clicking the mouse and typing on the keyboard.

I stand beside him, watching in awe.

An hour goes by, and I'm all set up.

“Maybe I should test it for you. Book a class from my phone.”

“Good idea. I’ll do that too.”

So we both jump on the website and book a class.

“Have you thought about an app?”

“I thought about using a third-party app because it’s cheaper and easier than setting up my own.”

“I could give you the money. And you can hire someone to set it up straight away.”

As much as I love how sweet of an offer that is, I can’t take it. This is my journey. It’s a dream for me, so I want to do everything on my own. I don’t ever want to rely on a guy again.

I don't have the kind of money or mental capacity to take on something as big as designing my app. It also reminds me how things come easy to him compared to me.

“Thanks for the offer, but right now, I’m happy with the website. Maybe in a few months, I’ll look into the app.”

“Well, it looks like it all works.”

I touch his arm, leaning into him. “Thank you. I’m sorry for bugging you again.”

He twists to face me. “It's my pleasure. It's nice, helping you and doing something other than the same things I do every day.”

We leave my studio and head downstairs. His hand interlaces with mine, and I rest my head on his shoulder, the gravity of how tired I am hitting me now.

We kiss before parting ways.

A few hours later, I arrive at his modern coastal two-story beach house in the Hamptons by helicopter. He had surprised me by organizing it.

His house is stunning. It's all clean lines, large windows, and a mix of natural wood and stone. I wonder if the inside is just as pretty, but as I join him on the porch, where it’s decorated with a comfortable seat and potted plants, he suggests a beach walk.

With our hands entwined, we head to the beach, where I kick off my sneakers to sink my feet into the cold yet soft sand. The shoreline stretches for miles in both directions. I follow his lead as we head right. Soaking in the beautiful sight and the sound of waves constantly crashing, occasionally avoiding seaweed or seashells. It feels like heaven having the wind in my hair and the smell of salty air around us.

As kids laugh with their families and dogs, that hope of my own family one day makes my insides vibrate. The impossible might be possible now.

“How often do you come down here?” I ask.

He sighs heavily. “Not as often as I’d like.”

“Would you live here?”

The atmosphere here is so relaxed compared to the hustle and bustle back in New York. Taking a glance at his bliss-filled face, I look down at our joined hands before back to the people soaking up the sun.

“No. I like it as a summer house, but it doesn’t feel like home.”

I get that, because some houses and areas give you a vacation feeling, not a forever feeling.

“What about retirement?”

He chuckles as we turn around to head back to his place. “I haven’t thought about it. Are you telling me I’m old?”

I giggle. “No, just asking.”

After the leisurely stroll, we enter his house and it’s just as I thought—coastal.

My eyes widen at the high ceilings, neutral colors, a fireplace, and modern appliances. But my nostrils flare from the smell of something cooking. My stomach grumbles. It smells a bit like onion and garlic and slow-cooked meat.

My eyebrows pinch. “You started cooking?”

We wander into his kitchen. I follow, grabbing the back of the stool, and put my bag down.

“I marinated some chicken and placed it in the slow cooker when we were messaging. It should be done. I’ve just got to pop the veggies and the potatoes on. Then put some bread out.”

“You’ve done a lot,” I say quietly, amazed by how much he’s done for me.

“It’s not much.”

He thinks that way, but to me, this is a lot.

“Has no one ever cooked for you before?”

“Yeah.”

“Of course they have,” he says, his tone a little darker. I sense a hint of jealousy. Only, he doesn't know that it's not a male.

“My parents and roommates,” I say, smirking.

“He didn’t?”

With a sigh, I shake my head.

He must sense my sadness and changes the subject.

“When was the last time you saw your parents or your family?”

I try to think back a while.

“Six months.” I shake my head, lips pursed. “No, over a year ago. Have you been to Connecticut before?”

“No.”

“I'm surprised,” I mumble.

“Why?"

“You seem to be well-traveled.”

He nods. “I am worldly to some degree, but only when it comes to work. I used to travel a lot for work, but now I leave it to my employees to do.”

“Why?”

“I prefer to do it for pleasure, not for work.”

For a moment, I picture him in Connecticut.

The quiet town. Simple life. I think it would suit him.

It would probably bore him after a little bit, but I could see him enjoying it as a break stop. It has the same feeling here gives you…peace. Growing up, I’d enjoy nature walks along the tracks, the fireplace in the living room, the open space in the yard, where I’d play games with my sister or study for high school exams. The sun and air kissing my skin, life was so much easier then.

“I’ll make a trip when I've set up my studio, and I can trust the staff to lead without me.”

Then maybe I could go for a weekend-long break.

“Family is important,” he says in a serious tone. His voice makes me think he's talking about his own.

“I love how close you are with yours.”

“They’re very important to me. No matter how annoying my brothers are. Holidays, birthdays, any celebrations, we are always together.”

I smile, but I wonder what it would’ve been like growing up with three brothers. Noisy, I bet.

“Has it always been like that, or just since your gram got sick?”

Nova has told me and Summer about his gram’s because that’s how Jeremy and Nova connected. Gram has breast cancer and Nova's dad has colon cancer.

“We’ve always been close,” he says. “Do you want a drink with dinner?”

“Sure. I’ll grab it,” I offer, wanting to help.

He smiles. A devilishly handsome one and points to an area. “Glasses are in that cupboard. Wine is in the cellar. Take the stairs on the right and you’ll see it.”

I follow the directions and enter the dimly lit cellar. I admire the wall that's full of rows of bottles on wooden racks, stretched out with a variety of shapes and sizes. The air is cool and heavy with the rich aroma of aged wines. “Wow, this is crazy,” I mumble to myself. The lights cast a warm glow over the stone walls, highlighting the labels as I try to find something that looks good. He could have warned me he had this type of selection. I'm a little lost. I must’ve been there for a while because a warm hand snakes around my middle.

“Oh,” I breathe.

As his other hand wraps around my stomach, he snuggles into my neck, his heavy breath in my ear. His voice is low and quiet as he asks, “What are you looking for?”

The electricity of his touch makes it hard to talk. But I use the energy he projects to find my voice.

“Wine.”

He chuckles, digging his fingers into my ribs, making me squirm in his arm. “Naughty girl.”

“You have too many to choose from.”

As his nearness kindles feelings of fire, I focus on breathing deeply through my nose, but it also means I’m inhaling his delicious scent.

A hot ache grows in my throat. “Spicy.”

“Spicy? Huh. Good choice.”

When he moves, I mourn the loss of the heat from his proximity.

“This is the one, then.”

I grab the bottle of red from his hands, reading the red wine label as he continues talking.

“This peppery Shiraz will go well with our dinner.”

I expect to leave the room, but his arms tighten around me once again. He kisses my neck, and I swallow a moan, concentrating on holding the bottle and not dropping it.

My knees weaken when he runs his nose up and down my throat to the side of my neck.

“You make me crazy.” His voice, deep and sensual, sends a ripple of awareness through me.

“Later,” I breathe, clutching the bottle as I twist in his arms.

He doesn't move his face from mine. I gaze into his dark, broody eyes. He’s thinking, and I don’t get long to wonder what he’s thinking about, because he reclaims my lips, crushing me to him.

I sink into his strong arms and enjoy the velvet warmth of his kiss. It flows through my veins. I’ll never get sick of kissing him.

I'm clutching the wine in my hands between our chests, while his hands explore my lower back.

When we pull away to take a breath, he whispers into my hair, “Let's go eat dinner.”

His hand pushes my lower back gently, encouraging me to walk, embracing me the whole way back to the dining table. Only then does his hand leave my body.

I put the bottle in the middle of the table and take in all the food.

“I think you've cooked for a family, not just for us.”

“I wanted to make sure you have enough to eat.” He reaches over and twists open the bottle and pours wine into our glasses. “You can take leftovers to Summer.”

I smile, knowing Summer would love that. She’d love him more than she already does.

We take our seats across from each other, and I feel a knot in my throat form at the thought of how lonely living alone would be. At least I have Summer.

I concentrate on eating, and afterwards Evan ushers me outside to his deck, where chairs sit facing the ocean. If I thought it was beautiful during the day, it’s absolutely captivating at night. With the wind rustling the trees, insects and sea birds making noises, and the ocean waves crashing, it’s the perfect place to relax.

“Thank you for cooking for me tonight.”

His mouth curves into an infectious grin. “Anything for you.”

His disarming smile makes my heart thump erratically.

But as we sit in silence, my mind can’t let go of the missing facts I have about his past. He knows everything about Bobby, and I feel like I barely know a thing about his ex. We touched on it briefly, but I still have unanswered questions.

“Can I ask you something?”

His head turns to look at me. “Of course.”

“How long were you and your ex together?”

He doesn’t blink. “Five years.”

“And you were engaged?” I probe further.

“Yes,” he responds with a tight jaw. It’s the only uncomfortable sign he’s shown tonight.

“Would you ever get engaged again?” I ask, my curiosity piqued.

He looks out to the ocean, taking a few minutes before answering. My hands are tightly resting on my lap, waiting eagerly for his reply.

“No, honestly, never again,” he says firmly.

My lips press into a grimace as I lower my head. Inside, my heart is shrinking. I always envisioned my father walking me down the aisle in my big dress to my husband-to-be. The celebration going all night, starting with our bridal waltz to the speech where he declares his love for me in front of all our family and friends.

So where does this leave us?

A tense silence envelops the room.

“Would you want to get engaged?” he asks, staring over at me.

I flick my eyes back up. Ignoring the cold knot that forms in my stomach, I dip my head. “Yeah, I see myself getting married one day.”

Color drains from his face, and I can’t control the trembling of my body.

With Bobby, I thought I was close to that, and he crushed my dreams. Now with Evan, he's telling me I will never get it. I feel as if a hand has closed around my throat.

Would I be willing to give up all my dreams when I've always wanted to get married and have children?

I have a much stronger guard up now. Because no, I don't want to give up my goals for somebody else.

I keep doing that. I keep giving up everything I want. It's not anyone's fault. Definitely not Evan’s, and I get it. But it's also not my fault. I didn't cheat. I didn't hurt him. Do I deserve to be punished?

No. I don’t.

The looming silence is like a heavy mist and is making me uncomfortable, so I decide to enjoy the ocean waves while I take a moment to think.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

“Yeah. I just have a lot on my mind, and I’m tired.”

Which isn’t a lie. My mind is going around and around in circles, and now, suddenly, I’m exhausted.

He stands and holds out a hand to me. “Let's go lie on the sofa.”

“What about the dishes?”

“Later,” he dismisses my concern.

I don’t argue and take his hand. We walk back inside to the sofa and sit down. When he drags my body close to his, I snuggle in, trying to get warm. He reaches behind me and pulls a blanket, throwing it over my legs.

I wrap myself in the blanket. “I’m going to fall asleep; this is too cozy.”

His fingers stroke my hair. “Sleep then. I'll be right here when you wake up.”

He flicks the TV on and tries to find something to watch. In the meantime, my body becomes heavy, and I close my eyes, surrendering to the darkness.

I wake when I feel weightless in his arms. I’m being carried as if I’m light as a feather. His strong arms support me.

“Evan?” I say groggily.

“I’m right here. Sleep, baby,” he reassures me.

This moment of Evan carrying me in his arms reminds me of how a man carries his bride. Of how it would feel if Evan was my husband. I swallow hard and bite back tears, remembering he doesn’t want the same future as me.

We arrive in his bedroom, and I kiss him in a frenzy, trying to clear my mind. I don't want to think about it tonight. I can think about it tomorrow after I've slept on it. Maybe I can talk to Summer and Nova about it. Right now, with tears of bittersweet pleasure, I want to enjoy our final moments together because they might be our last.