The Billionaire Next Door (The Sherbrookes of Newport Book 10) Page 6

  Gray tugged Kiera down next to him. “You’re engaged, remember?”

  Curt, as well as Kiera, knew Gray was only giving her a hard time.

  She elbowed Gray in the side. “That doesn’t mean I’m blind, Mr. Sherbrooke.” She patted his cousin’s cheek. “Don’t worry, I find you sexy, too,” she said, using a tone one might when placating a small child. “So, who’s Linda? And what’s up with the new look?”

  “She’s someone I just met on the elevator. Said she moved in recently. Here’s her card if you want to call her.” Curt dropped the business card onto the end table. “I don’t need it.”

  “Oh, that Linda,” Gray said, earning him a cold stare from Kiera.

  “Engaged, remember?” she said teasingly.

  “And I’ll show you just how happily engaged when you come home tonight.” Gray kissed Kiera as if Curt wasn’t sitting right across from them.

  “Hey, I’m still sitting here, remember? Save it for when you’re alone, please.”

  Neither Gray nor Kiera looked the least embarrassed when they pulled apart.

  “I’m going. Brooklyn and Addie are waiting for me upstairs. Behave yourselves tonight.” While Gray lived in one of the building’s three-bedroom apartments, his older brother, Trent, resided in the building’s penthouse, which encompassed the top two floors.

  “Have fun. Say hi to Addie and Brooklyn.” Gray kissed Kiera again before she exited the room.

  Left alone, Gray picked up the business card. “You’re sure you don’t want this?”

  Curt nodded before going in search of whatever delicious dish Kiera had cooked up.

  “Grab some plates and I’ll get the food.” Gray followed Curt into the kitchen and went straight for one of the two ovens. “You’re not interested in Linda, so are you and Miranda back on?”

  He’d started seeing Miranda Bergman sometime the previous summer. He’d even taken her to his cousin’s wedding in September. He’d ended their relationship in December, though. “Nope. Derek told me she’s with his buddy, Colton Horne. Hope it works out for them. They seem well suited.”

  Although sweet as well as beautiful, Miranda loved the spotlight, which was one of the main reasons he’d stopped seeing her. While Miranda wanted everyone to notice her, he preferred to fly low and not draw any extra attention to himself. Colton, on the other hand, shared Miranda’s need for attention. Anyone who’d ever met the guy would agree.

  “There’d better be some of whatever Kiera cooked left.” Trent’s voice announced his arrival.

  “Did you forget how to knock?” Gray called out.

  “I ran into Kiera. She told me to let myself in.”

  Trent entered the kitchen, his eleven-month-old son in his arms and a large diaper bag hanging from his shoulder. Curt couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of his once-carefree playboy cousin so domesticated. Of all his cousins, Trent had been the last one he expected to ever marry and have a family.

  “What the—” Trent caught himself before he said something he shouldn’t in front of his son. “What happened to you?”

  “He’s going for the Left in the Wild look,” Gray answered, referring to a popular reality show where they dumped four couples somewhere remote and they had to survive for a month on their own.

  He’d brushed off Gray’s teasing before, but now it was starting to get to him. “Both of you can stuff it.” He’d prefer much more colorful language, but he had to watch it with Kendrick in room. Trent’s wife would kill him if the baby started repeating any four-letter words he might overhear.

  “He moved to New Hampshire and decided to become one with nature,” Gray said while he filled three plates with whatever dish he’d pulled from the oven.

  “You moved way up there?” Trent asked. “Why?”

  Curt nodded. “The town isn’t far up. I can be in Massachusetts in about ten or fifteen minutes.”

  Trent put Kendrick down, and immediately the baby toddled over to his uncle.

  “He’s walking already?” Curt asked. When he’d last seen Kendrick, he’d only been crawling.

  “Started last month. It’s a whole new level of craziness at home now,” Trent answered, dropping the diaper bag onto the floor.

  “I think he’s having an identity crisis,” Gray said, going back to busting Curt’s ass again. “He even turned down the phone number of a beautiful woman. Linda Hurley gave him her card, and he told me to toss it.”

  Curt took the dish his cousin offered and wondered why he’d thought spending an evening with Gray was a good idea. Instead, he could be home writing or, even better, having dinner with his single next-door neighbor. “No kind of crisis. Just trying to go unnoticed while I’m living in Pelham. I don’t need the distractions while I finish the book and work on the house.”

  “Another renovation project. What’s this, your fourth?” Trent asked. “Is this one similar to the house in Marlborough?”

  “Bigger, older, and it needs more work. Since I’ve left Nichols Investment, I decided to live in the house while I renovate it. Makes it easier. After it’s done I’ll move back to Boston. I kept my condo there.”

  “I’d offer to help, but you wouldn’t want it.” Trent picked up Kendrick and sat him on his lap. “I see the long hair and the beard’s a disguise. Wish I’d considered that in the past. I certainly could’ve used it.”

  Prior to his marriage, Trent had graced more tabloid magazine covers and Internet sites than anyone Curt knew. No easy feat when you’re part of the Sherbrooke family. There had been a point where the guy couldn’t even enjoy a coffee without someone snapping a picture of him and selling it to the highest bidder.

  “Is it working?” Trent asked, while he tried to keep his son from reaching for the food on the plate.

  “Yeah, so far.” Curt thought of his neighbors and cringed. “More or less, anyway.”

  “Either a disguise works or it doesn’t.” Gray put his own plate down on the kitchen island, then went back to the refrigerator. When he came back he carried a container of baby strawberry yogurt and a baby-sized spoon. “Kiera got Kendrick’s favorite at the store.” He passed the spoon and yogurt to Trent. “Which is it, Curt?”

  “I’ve only met the women who live next door. The three of them know I’m an author, but that’s it.”

  Next to him Trent fed his son the yogurt, but the baby kept eyeing the food on his father’s plate instead. Curt didn’t blame the kid. Given the choice between strawberry yogurt and the roasted chicken Provençal Kiera had prepared, he wouldn’t want the yogurt either.

  “Three women living next door. Is one of them the reason you’re not interested in Linda’s number?” Gray asked, his eyebrow cocked knowingly.

  “Linda reminds me of Miranda. You know why I ended it with her,” Curt offered as an answer.

  “Can’t disagree with you on that one. I’ve only run into Linda a few times, but I get the same impression. Derek would know better. He works with her.” Gray walked away again and returned with three bottles of sparkling water. “But Linda would provide a little distraction. You’ve got to do something besides hide out up there in New Hampshire. Or is one of your new neighbors providing you with that?”

  “Yeah, but not in the way you mean.” At least not yet. “Yesterday Taylor and I went for coffee. Saturday, I’m taking her for dinner.”

  “But she doesn’t know who you are?” Trent set aside the yogurt container and started on his own meal.

  “Like I said, Taylor and her mom, Priscilla, know I’m C.S. Hilton. Besides, we’re only going for dinner.” He didn’t look at either of his cousins when he answered.

  Gray narrowed his eyes and looked at him. “She lives with her mother. Exactly how old is she?”

  “Don’t go there. She’s a DEA agent in Boston. She lives next door with her mother and niece. I don’t know the specifics, but Reese’s mom isn’t around. Taylor and Priscilla are bringing her up.”

  Trent laughed. “You’re going to take a
federal agent out for dinner and not tell her who you are? You realize she might figure it out, right? Investigating is part of her job.”

  “He’s right,” Gray agreed with a shake of his head. “Can’t believe I just said that.”

  “She believes I’m Curt Hilton, an author from Boston who likes to renovate old houses. Why would she investigate anything?”

  “And what happens if you decide you want more than one dinner out, dude?” Gray asked, bringing up something Curt had already considered.

  Trent gave up trying to keep Kendrick from sampling his roasted chicken, and raised his fork containing the tiniest amount toward the baby’s mouth. “You’re asking for trouble. Take my word for it, women don’t like secrets.”

  “Damn it. I have to agree with Trent again.” Gray sounded disgusted. “And secrets have a way of coming out. Much better to be up-front with her now. Either that or avoid your neighbors altogether, if you really want them to believe you’re Curt Hilton.”

  Taylor intrigued him too much to stay away. And he saw no reason she’d suspect he was anything more than he told her. “Trust me, it’s no big deal. Everything’ll be fine.”

  Both Gray and Trent laughed knowingly. “Famous last words if I ever heard ’em,” Trent said with a smirk.

  Gray smiled and shared his comment, too. “Yep. Make sure you let us know when it blows up in your face.”

  Chapter Five

  He’d done his research. According to the Internet, Pellegrino in Windham was the perfect restaurant for tonight. It offered a diverse Italian menu, was several notches above the average chain restaurant, but at the same time it wasn’t so expensive the prices would raise any questions in Taylor’s mind. Questions that might kick her into investigator mode. Thanks to his cousins and their comments, he kept remembering what she did for a living. If she went there, it wouldn’t be too difficult for her to learn the truth. His full legal name was on record as the owner of the house. It would be easy enough to visit the town hall and obtain the information.

  Wednesday night, he considered coming clean with Taylor and her mom. They’d invited him over for dinner again and he’d accepted. After spending three days alone in his house, he’d appreciated the chance for human contact. Much like on his first visit, Reese gave them the 411 on her day at school. Once she stopped talking long enough to put some food in her mouth, Priscilla told him about some of the upcoming events in town. Apparently, starting in the spring, a farmers’ market was set up every Wednesday on the village green, and one could find everything from local honey to unique cheeses for sale there. The town also held several free concerts on the village green in the summer. In July the town sponsored a fireworks display, although Priscilla did say a lot of residents did their own. She’d made a point to remind him of the town’s Old Home Day celebration at the end of the summer. He had no idea what it was, but he got the impression it was a big deal in Pelham. Once she filled him on everything the town offered, she asked about his progress on the house. That had taken them through the rest of dinner. Afterward, he returned home and again told himself it didn’t matter at this point. If somehow things between him and Taylor developed past a casual relationship, he’d come clean. No need to rush anything.

  Since then, he’d only seen Taylor once. Unable to sleep, he’d started work early Friday morning. He’d been carrying scraps from the kitchen out to the rented dumpster when Taylor jogged past. She’d mentioned often running in the morning, but this had been the first time he’d seen her. She’d been dressed in running shorts and a sports bra. Like he’d already guessed, she had knockout body. Lean and toned, she had great muscle definition, but didn’t look like she spent every waking hour either in the gym or counting each calorie she put in her mouth. His last girlfriend had lived on lettuce and water. She’d spent crazy hours on a treadmill or in either a Pilates or yoga class. He’d hated taking Miranda out to eat. She’d order something small off the menu, then sit there and look at it while he enjoyed whatever meal he got. Standing next to her, he’d felt like he was with a paper doll who might fly away if the wind blew.

  Curt didn’t need to worry about Taylor flying away. He’d also seen her eat. While not an overeater, at least the times he’d been around, she had a healthy appetite. She even indulged in dessert, if their coffee date was anything to go by. She’d not only polished off a large slice of pie, but had brought an entire one home with her to share with Priscilla. He’d taken one home, too. It had lasted one day. He’d considered going back for another several times since then. Depending on how things progressed tonight, they could meet up tomorrow and grab some pie for breakfast.

  What happens if you decide you want more than one dinner out, dude? Women don’t like secrets. Curt pictured Gray and Trent saying the words as he grabbed his car keys off his nightstand.

  “Go with it for now.” He put on the glasses he’d adopted since moving.

  He reached the end of the hall before he caught his reflection in the huge antique mirror hanging on the wall. He hadn’t decided yet if he wanted to keep it or not, and since it wasn’t in his way he’d asked the cleaning crew to leave it. Tonight, he almost didn’t recognize the person in the glass. He should’ve anticipated his cousins’ reactions over the weekend. He’d always been anal about getting his hair cut. His hair grew like a weed on steroids, so he had a standing appointment once a month with his stylist in Boston. If the stylist saw his hair now, the poor man would keel over in his salon chair. The beard, though, was what really made the difference. He’d started shaving at fourteen, and had never gone for more than a few days without doing so since. Honestly, he’d had his cousin Scott in mind when he started letting his grow in. Scott had favored a well-trimmed beard for a few years. It looked good on Scott. On him, the jury was still out.

  Stripes was stretched out on the top step, soaking up all the early evening sun he could. When Curt approached, the cat looked up, swished his tail back and forth, and then went back to enjoying the sun, dismissing Curt entirely. Taking the feline’s cue, he ignored the cat and rang the Walkers’ doorbell.

  A stampede of unseen elephants ran toward the door. At least it sounded like a whole herd of them coming, but an elephant didn’t open the door. Instead, a petite almost-seven-year-old wearing a soccer T-shirt and shorts and with dirt on her face did.

  “Hi, you’re here to get Auntie Taylor.” Reese pushed the screen door open, a bright welcoming smile on her face. The sound of the door got Stripes’s attention, and he jumped to his feet, slipping inside while he could. “Auntie Taylor, Curt’s here!” Reese shouted up the stairs once Curt came inside. “Auntie’s upstairs fixing her hair. And Mimi is in the kitchen. C’mon.” She took him by the wrist, leaving him no option but to follow her down the short hallway. “Mimi, Curt’s here,” she announced, as if Priscilla hadn’t already heard the girl shout upstairs.

  “So I heard.” She handed her granddaughter a colorful cup with cats on it as Reese passed by. “Can I get you anything? Taylor should be down in a minute. We got stuck in traffic on the way home from Reese’s soccer game.”

  “Have some of Mimi’s sweet tea, it’s the best. Way better than the stuff at Peggy Sue’s.”

  He’d passed a restaurant named Peggy Sue’s when he’d gone shopping for kitchen flooring yesterday. He hadn’t stopped inside, but from the exterior it looked like a well-preserved 1950s diner. “Well, if Reese says it’s the best, I’d better try some,” Curt answered.

  Priscilla poured him a glass before pouring one for herself. “My mom grew up in Tennessee, and moved north after she got married. People up here don’t know the proper way of making sweet tea. They think all you need to do is add some sugar.”

  Both Priscilla and Reese watched him as he took his first sip. It turned into several more before he put the glass down. “I have to agree with Reese.”

  Reese gave him another full-mouth grin.

  “Did you win you game today?” he asked.

  She nodded, her
long ponytail moving back and forth. “Yup. We’ve only lost one game all spring. I played in the winter, too, but my team wasn’t as good.”

  “That happens. When I played lacrosse, sometimes we had a great team and sometimes we didn’t.”

  “I want to try lacrosse, but Auntie Taylor and Mimi said I can’t do both because the games are both on the weekends. Did you ever play soccer?”

  For a girl who wasn’t even seven, Reese seemed able to carry on good conversations. Or maybe all kids her age could. “No, I played football and lacrosse. My older brother tried soccer, but liked hockey better.”

  Reese considered his answer while she enjoyed her tea. “If you want, I can teach you. I’m really good.”

  Priscilla came up behind Reese’s chair. She gave him a look that said “I’m sorry.” “Curt’s probably too busy right now, sweetie. He’s got that whole house to work on.”

  “Oh.” The girl’s smile vanished.

  “Maybe one weekend you can give me a lesson.” He hated the disappointment on the kid’s face, and what was an hour or so?

  Reese’s smile returned immediately.

  Make sure you let us know when it blows up in your face. He remembered Gray’s final comment before they’d changed the subject entirely Sunday night.

  Taylor picked what she considered the nicest dress in her closet. Not much of a shopper, her choices for the night were limited to a handful of sundresses, and this outfit, which she’d bought a while ago. Even if the dress was a year old, it’d be fine for their destination tonight. The previous spring she’d attended a friend’s bridal shower at Pellegrino wearing this very outfit. She paired it with the open-toed heels that matched, shoes she hadn’t worn since the last time she put on the dress. Actually, she hadn’t worn heels in months. Generally, the only time she dug them out was when she had to make an appearance in court for a case. Tonight, before heading down, she walked across her bedroom a few times, getting the hang of walking in them again.