The Billionaire Next Door (The Sherbrookes of Newport Book 10) Page 5

  He reached for his coffee and forced the erotic images from his head. He’d never been a player like his cousin Trent, but he dated. He’d even been in a few long-term relationships. His last relationship, though, had ended five months ago, and he hadn’t been with a woman since.

  She snapped her fingers. “Darn it. I should’ve recorded you saying that in case I show up at ten o’clock tonight, and you’ve changed your mind. Maybe I’ll play it safe and buy one, too.” Finally Taylor reached for her fork. “Of course, if I do, I’ll need to get at least a slice of chocolate chip pie or some cookies for Reese. She’d never forgive me if I came home with pie for Mom and me but nothing for her.”

  Her statement confirmed his previous suspicion. Reese’s mom didn’t live with them.

  “She was getting ice cream and pizza today,” he reminded her.

  Taylor smiled, and a dimple appeared in her right cheek. “You don’t spend much time around kids, do you?”

  Curt thought about his answer before he spoke. “The only children I’ve been around are my cousins’ kids, and they’re still young. The oldest will be two in the fall.”

  “Well, trust me, Reese could’ve stopped here and had chocolate chip pie after eating ice cream, and she’d still be disappointed if I brought home pie for myself and nothing for her.”

  They ate in silence for a few seconds before Taylor put down her fork and reached for her coffee. “You mentioned your cousins. Do you have a big family?”

  He’d been the one to open his mouth and bring up his family. If he hoped to keep everyone from learning who he really was, he needed to watch his words more carefully. “Oh, yeah. My dad is one of four and my mom is one of seven. I have more first cousins then I can count, and now they’re starting to have children.”

  “One of seven? I hope your mom had more than one bathroom growing up.” Taylor laughed, the sound rippling across the table, and he laughed, too. “My sister and I were always fighting over ours. There’s only one full bathroom in the house, so we had to share it with our parents, too. Mom had to make a schedule when we were in middle school and high school so we both got ready on time.”

  Curt thought of the estate his mom grew up on and where his grandparents still lived. “They had more than one.” Truthful and to the point. “What about you? Do you have a big family?”

  “Average. My mom has a sister and brother. Both live nearby. My dad had two sisters. One lives in town, and the other moved to Arizona a few years ago. My cousins are spread throughout New England.”

  “Do you only have one sister?”

  Taylor’s eyes grew sad, and she reached for her fork again. “Yes. Eliza is a year older than me. You’d think since we’re so close in age we would’ve had a lot in common, but we’ve always been complete opposites.”

  He knew all about that. “I’ve never had a lot in common with my brother, either. I’d do anything for him and he’s the same way, but it’s hard to believe we have the same parents. I have more in common with my sister.”

  “Family can be complicated.” She shook her head ever so slightly. “Let’s talk about something other than family.”

  Curt had no complaints there.

  They discussed her work with the DEA while they finished their pie and first cups of coffee. Then, he answered her questions about why he’d become a writer and where he got his ideas. Unwilling to end their time together, he bought them another round of coffee. He also purchased a whole mixed berry pie to take home with him.

  “I noticed the dumpster outside the house when I went running this week.”

  “Started tearing apart the kitchen this week. It seemed like the best place to remodel first,” Curt answered. “I can’t grill outside forever.”

  She nodded in agreement. “Are you really going to do it all yourself? It’s been a while since I’ve been inside the house, but it seems like a lot of work for one person.”

  “I’m going to try. I have friend I can call if I need some help.” He’d met Ed in the first carpentry class he’d taken. At the time the older man had been approaching retirement, and his wife wanted him to have a hobby so he didn’t sit at home all day driving her crazy. Despite the age gap, they’d hit it off. Ed had helped him more than once on projects. “And I can always call you, right? Priscilla said you worked alongside your father.”

  “My dad did teach me a thing or two about hammering a nail. I guess I could help if you get into a jam. But it’ll cost you.”

  “Name your price.”

  “Mmm.” She tapped her fingers against the tabletop. Today her nails were painted a dark purple. “I’ll need to think about it and get back to you.”

  “How about we start with dinner some night this week?” He would’ve said tomorrow, but he’d already made plans with his cousin.

  The corner of Taylor’s mouth inched upward. “Weeknights can be tricky. Things come up sometimes. Like last night, I didn’t get home until well after midnight. I even ended up having to skip Reese’s soccer game today.”

  Her job might be essential, but it sounded terrible. “How about next Saturday night, then?” A week would give him plenty of time to scout out a nice place to take her. He knew plenty of five-star restaurants in and around Boston, but he’d prefer to avoid them all, for numerous reasons.

  “I’ll pencil you in for next weekend.”

  Chapter Four

  Taylor tried to steal the ball as Reese dribbled it across the backyard Sunday afternoon. Before she could intercept it, though, her niece kicked it toward the goal. She missed, and the ball rolled past the goal and toward the woods.

  “I’ll get it,” Reese called out, sprinting after the runaway soccer ball.

  “While you do, I’m going to take a water break.” They’d been out there for at least an hour. Reese didn’t look even close to tiring out. The child had an endless supply of energy.

  When they’d come out, she’d left two bottles of water on the patio table. Opening one, she took a long swallow, the cool drink immediately perking her up. A few feet away, her mom checked on the chicken and burgers she’d put on the grill. The house had no central air conditioning, only window units, so once the weather turned warmer they cooked outside as much as possible to keep the inside temperature down.

  “Maybe we should see if Curt wants to join us.” Priscilla closed the grill cover and took a seat at the table. “We have plenty of food.”

  This was the first time Mom had mentioned Curt since their conversation early yesterday afternoon. She’d expected a million questions as soon as she came home from having coffee with him. Oddly, Mom never said a word except a thank-you for bringing home the pie. She should’ve known that was too good to last.

  “He has plans today.” He hadn’t given her any particular details and, it being none of her business, she hadn’t asked.

  “C’mon, Auntie. I got the ball.” Reese walked past the goal, carrying the pink-and-white soccer ball in her hands.

  Just what she thought; Reese wasn’t ready to quit for the afternoon.

  “Why don’t you practice by yourself for a little and give Aunt Taylor a break,” Mom suggested. “I think you wore her out.”

  Yep, the reprieve from questioning was over. Mom planned to start her interrogation now.

  Reese shrugged and dropped the ball to the ground. “Okay.”

  Having no siblings or friends next door, Reese was used to playing alone. She dribbled the ball across the yard toward the goal, leaving Taylor alone with Mom.

  “Go ahead and ask away,” Taylor said. Mom had questions. The sooner she asked, the sooner they could talk about something else.

  “Can you blame me for being curious?” Mom asked.

  Blame her? No, not really. Wish she’d mind her own business on this? Yes, most certainly.

  “Considering you only went for coffee at the Java Bean, you were gone for a long time yesterday.” Mom refilled her iced tea from the pitcher she’d brought outside earlier. “I assume t
hat means he’s not a serial killer who runs around at night wearing a clown costume.”

  The statement rubbed her the wrong way. “Mom, I didn’t interrogate him. We just talked.” They’d talked so much they’d both lost track of time as one coffee turned into another. In the end, they’d each had three cups.

  “Relax. I’m kidding. I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.” She paused with her glass almost to her lips. “You did enjoy yourself, right?”

  Definitely. She found talking with Curt easy. They’d discussed a huge range of topics. They’d even touched on politics a little, something she tended to avoid with most people. She found too many people got upset when you didn’t share the same political views as them. Often, those same people tried to convert you to their way of thinking. Rather than risk a disagreement or offend someone, she was selective about with whom she discussed the topic. While she and Curt shared some of the same political views, they hadn’t agreed on everything. Much to his credit, he hadn’t insisted his opinion was correct or tried to convert her to his way of thinking.

  Not only was Curt easy to talk to, but there was also something about him. Something that set him apart from the men she’d gone out with before. She’d first noticed when he insisted on paying for coffee. He hadn’t argued with her, but it had been obvious it didn’t sit well with him. Dennis had never had a problem when she paid. A few times, he even suggested they split a bill.

  Curt pulling out her chair, and later opening the car door for her, stood out vividly in her head. Dad used to open doors all the time for Mom, but he was from a different generation. Men didn’t do things like that anymore. At least, she’d never met any who did. Yet Curt had done both, and not because he was trying to impress her. No, it’d been too automatic on his part. Like it’d been ingrained in him to treat a woman a certain way.

  “I did.”

  “And will there be a second date?”

  “It wasn’t a date, Mom. We talked and drank coffee.” Jeez, why did she keep insisting it was a date?

  “Okay. Then, will there be a first date?” She set down her tea and moved back to the grill to check on the food.

  “Next weekend.”

  “Oh, how exciting. Now aren’t you glad I invited him over after he brought Stripes home?”

  If she said yes, heaven knew how many other guys Mom might start inviting over for dinner. “Maybe a little, but let’s not make a habit of inviting men to dinner. I prefer finding my own dates, Mom. Okay?”

  Mom looked over her shoulder, a smile stretched across her face. Whatever she intended to say, Taylor wasn’t going to appreciate. “Who knows? Maybe he’ll be the one.” She turned her attention back to the chicken. “He’s polite, successful, and he appeared comfortable interacting with Reese. So far, everything points toward him being a keeper.”

  There Mom went with her romantic fantasies again. “You’re getting ahead of yourself. We had pie and coffee. That’s it. Before you reserve the church and call the photographer, let us go out again.”

  “Fine, fine. I’ll wait until next week to call Reverend Shawn.”

  “Why are you calling Reverend Shawn?” Reese asked, stopping for a water break just in time to catch her grandmother’s statement.

  Taylor threw her mom a look that said, “nice going—you answer this one.”

  “Grown-up stuff,” Mom said. “Nothing to worry about. Dinner is almost done. Why don’t you go inside and wash your hands?”

  “Please tell me, Mimi.” The girl didn’t like to be left out of anything. “Why are you calling Reverend Shawn?”

  Taylor watched Mom struggle with an answer Reese would accept. “I want to see if the church needs extra help for this year’s Old Home Day.”

  Every year the church sponsored the town’s Old Home Day celebration, an event that had started in 1906 and grown over the years. Today, the entire town got involved with it.

  Satisfied with the answer, Reese dropped her soccer ball into the bucket of outside toys on the patio, and went inside.

  “She hears everything,” Mom said. “Before she comes back, is there anything else you’d care to share about our handsome new neighbor?”

  “He’s different. But not in a bad way or anything.” Taylor thought for a good way to describe what she meant. “It sounds cheesy, but I’d use the word classy to describe him. He pulls out chairs, opens doors.”

  “There are much worse things a person can be.”

  She agreed with that.

  Mom put the platter of hamburgers and chicken on the table. They’d already brought out a garden salad and potato chips. “There’s something about him that seems familiar. I can’t put my finger on what it is.”

  Taylor tore open the chips and uncovered the salad bowl. “He probably reminds you of someone you’ve seen on a television show or in a movie.”

  “I’m sure you’re right,” Mom agreed, dropping the matter.

  ***

  In Curt’s opinion, a long motorcycle ride was a damn good way to spend a gorgeous spring afternoon. He’d left his house over two hours ago, sticking to the back roads as much as possible. The highway would’ve shaved at least forty minutes from the drive, maybe even more, but who wanted to be stuck on the highway when it was this nice out? Definitely not him.

  After parking in the underground garage, Curt took the stairs up to the Hillcrest’s main lobby. Both his cousins Trent and Gray lived in the exclusive downtown Providence complex. He’d visited both on numerous occasions, and never before had a problem going right on up without first stopping at the security desk. Today, as he walked toward one of the two public elevators, a uniformed security guard stopped him.

  “Excuse me. All guests must check in before going upstairs,” the guard said. “Who are you here to see today?”

  He remembered Dion, the security guard on duty, from his many previous visits; obviously the guard didn’t recognize him. “I’m visiting Gray Sherbrooke. He’s expecting me, Dion.”

  “I’ll need to call up and verify. Name, please.” The guard picked up the phone and waited for an answer.

  If nothing else, this further assured him his close-trimmed beard and longer hair helped conceal his identity. “Curt Sherbrooke.” He pulled his ID from his wallet and handed it over.

  The guard glanced at it and then took a good look at him. “So sorry, Mr. Sherbrooke. I didn’t recognize you. It’s good to see you again.” Dion handed the ID back and put down the phone. “Go on up. Have a nice afternoon.”

  Curt rode the elevator up with two women, both definite head-turners. They were dressed in the latest spring styles, their makeup and hair perfect.

  The taller of the two kept looking his way and smiling, her interest in him obvious. Any other day he would’ve asked for a phone number. Today he smiled back, but otherwise kept to himself.

  “I’m Linda. I just moved in last month,” she said as the elevator passed the fourth floor. “This is my sister, Katie.” She gestured to the other woman. “Do you live here, or are you visiting?”

  “Just visiting. I’m sure you’ll enjoy living here; my cousin, Gray, and his fiancée do.”

  “I live a floor below Gray and Kiera. If he’s your cousin, you must be a Sherbrooke. Don’t tell me. Let me guess.” She paused, and he imagined her running through a list of his family members. “You’re definitely not Scott or Jake.” Linda smiled and pointed at him. “Curt, right?”

  “Correct.” Come on, elevator, reach her floor already.

  Linda pulled a business card and pen from her purse. “Here’s my cell number if you want to give me a call sometime,” she said as she wrote on the blank side of the card.

  The elevator door opened, and he wondered how he could decline without offending her. In the end, he didn’t have to worry about it because she pressed the card into his hand and walked away with her sister, the doors closing behind them.

  Curt flipped the card over. Linda Hurley, Attorney at Law was printed on the front, along with Hale
& Associates. The name of the same downtown law firm his cousin Derek and his wife, Brooklyn, worked for. He shoved the card into his back pocket. Later it’d find its way into the trash. His instincts told him Linda Hurley wasn’t his type anyway. She reminded him too much of his last girlfriend—unlike the DEA agent living next door to him. When it came to Taylor, his instincts told him something altogether different.

  “Holy hell,” Gray said in lieu of a greeting when he opened the apartment door moments later. “Do they not have mirrors where you live?”

  In many ways Curt was closer to Gray than his own brother. They were about a year apart in age and shared many of the same interests. Of course, that meant Gray felt no qualms about busting Curt’s balls every chance he got.

  “Aunt Judith said you’d moved to New Hampshire. I didn’t know you’d decided to turn into a tree-hugging wilderness nut. What’s next, a plaid flannel shirt?”

  Curt ignored Gray’s comments and walked inside. The entire apartment smelled like fresh herbs and something delicious he couldn’t identify. “Kiera cooking?”

  Kiera, Gray’s fiancée, was a professionally trained chef who worked at Providence’s top French restaurant. More times than not she was in the kitchen, experimenting on a new dish. And if one was lucky enough to be around, they got to enjoy her efforts.

  “She was earlier. Now she’s getting ready to go out.” Gray closed the door and headed for the living room. “She, Addie, and Brooklyn are going to a concert. Some boy band they all loved in high school is performing. Since he’s alone too, Trent’s going to come down with Kendrick. I invited Derek over too, but he has other plans.”

  He hadn’t seen Trent in months. It’d be nice to catch up with him.

  “What’s up with the wild-man look?” Gray asked as his fiancée entered the room.

  Kiera immediately bypassed Gray and hugged him instead. Both her parents worked at Uncle Mark’s estate, so they’d known each other a long time. “Ignore him, Curt. I think the barely there beard makes you look sexy.”

  “Linda on the elevator did, too. She gave me her number and told me to call her.”