Waking Up with a Billionaire (The Overnight Billionaires Book 3) (13 page)

The glass almost slipped out of Grayson’s hand. He caught it in time, but still splashed some on his pant legs. Bob’s eyes narrowed, and for a second Grayson worried that he had caught the slip. But then he leaned over and grabbed the dish towel off the oven handle and tossed it to Grayson.

“Blot it with that,” he said. “It won’t stain, but you don’t want to go to work looking like you wet yourself.”

Grayson blotted his pants and tried to get more information without giving anything away. “Selena is a beautiful name.” He set the towel on the table and picked up his drink. “Did you have a daughter to pass it down to?”

Bob shook his head. “Selena sure wished for one, but God only blessed us with two sons. One we lost in a plane crash more than twenty years ago, and the other one runs the business with my grandson.”

“I saw a picture of your son and grandson in the tasting room. So you just have the one grandchild?”

Bob got up and poured himself another splash of whiskey—without the lemonade this time. He took a deep drink before turning back around. “I have two grandsons, both from my late son. Cain runs the winery with Davis, probably because he’s the only one who can put up with Davis’s pigheadedness. The other, Gavin, runs my oil company. ”

If Grayson hadn’t been worried about giving Chloe’s whereabouts away, he would’ve just come out and asked Bob if he had a granddaughter. But there was a reason Chloe had run away, and until he found out what that reason was, he wasn’t about to put her in danger. And since it looked as if Bob wasn’t going to volunteer that information, it was probably time for him to go.

“Well, thanks for the lemonade, but I really should get back to San Francisco.” He stood and took his glass to the sink. When he turned, he noticed the picture of the vineyard hanging on the wall. Which gave him an idea. “Could I use your bathroom before I go?”

Bob pointed. “Just down the hall, second door to your right.”

The hallway was long and, as he’d hoped, lined with photographs. The first pictures were of Bob’s sons, a variety of high school football, soccer, and graduation photos. The next were more recent pictures of the grandsons. But at the very end were pictures of a blond girl that proved this hadn’t been a wild-goose chase after all.

Chloe’s expressive brown eyes stared back at him from a chubby baby’s face. An adorable toddler’s. A pigtailed little girl’s. And a laughing teenager’s. The last picture was of the entire Cameron family. Grayson quickly recognized a younger Bob standing next to his wife. His sons stood on either side with their wives, two boys stood in front of their mother and father, and Chloe stood in front of hers.

“Lost your way again?”

Grayson turned to see Bob standing at the end of the hallway. His eyes were steady and piercing. He hesitated for only a second before he asked, “So you want to explain what you’re really doing here, Grayson Beaumont?”

“I was just looking at your pictures.”

Bob shook his head. “I think we both need to quit the flimflam and get to the truth. I didn’t invite you here to quench your thirst. I invited you here to find out why a billionaire would show up at a winery during the workweek. Especially when he doesn’t like wine.”

Grayson didn’t want to lie to the old guy. But he also couldn’t tell him the truth. Not when he didn’t have all the facts.

“Thank you for the lemonade, sir,” he said, “but I really need to be going.”

Bob studied him for a long moment before he stepped out of the way. Grayson walked past him and out the door. He was almost to the steps that led to the winery when Bob called out to him.

“Grayson!” When he turned, Bob was standing in the doorway of the house, somehow looking years older than he had before. “Please bring her home.”

I
think it’s only fair that you know that I don’t like you. You have no personality. You’re obstinate. And you stink.” Chloe stopped watering the Huckabees’ flowers and stared at the seagull sitting in the ceramic pot on the balcony next door. “So if you don’t want to eat your sardines, then don’t eat your sardines. It makes no difference to me one way or the other.” She moved to the next planter and tipped the watering pot. “The only reason I even opened the can is because Grayson seems to like you and is worried because you won’t eat and all you want to do is sit there in that pot looking stupid. And it wasn’t very nice of you to bite the hand that feeds you. Grayson was only trying to see if you were injured.”

Just the thought of the incident had Chloe smiling. Grayson had been trying to check out Jonathan’s wing when the bird had snapped at him. Grayson had jumped back so quickly that he’d tripped over the coffee table, and his expression when he landed on his butt had made her laugh until she cried. She’d expected his ego to be bruised, but Grayson had only joined in with her laughter. Obviously their nightly sketching sessions had loosened him up. He no longer scowled as much as he used to. And he wasn’t nearly as hostile. In fact he’d started to act like the Grayson she’d first met—except not as quiet.

In the last few days, he’d finally opened up and talked. Not a lot, but enough for Chloe to discover the man beneath the handsome face. From their nightly conversations, she was able to piece together a clearer picture of Grayson. He was a loving son who deeply mourned his mother. An insecure youngest sibling who worried about measuring up to his brothers. A talented artist who worshipped the female body. And a sincerely kind man who cared about a stubborn seagull who refused to eat. Well, Jonathan Livingston wasn’t going to die on her watch.

“Okay, Jonny.” She glared across the balcony at the bird. “By the time I finish watering Mr. Huckabee’s plants and get back over there, if you haven’t eaten those sardines, I’m going to shove them straight down your throat—”

“That I’ve got to see.”

The voice had Chloe dropping the watering can. She turned just as Eden stepped out onto the balcony looking suntanned and happy. She didn’t hesitate for a second before she pulled Chloe into a bone-crushing hug. Which had Chloe feeling guilty. She didn’t deserve Eden’s love. Not after she’d ignored her and skipped her wedding.

As always, the guilt had her snapping. “Why don’t you just scare the crap out of me, Eden?”

Eden laughed. “Sorry, but I didn’t exactly expect you to be on my grandparents’ balcony. I expected you to be locked in Grayson’s house.”

Chloe eyes widened. “I knew it! You and Madison were behind the kidnapping. I thought as much when Madison refused to answer my calls.”

“I told her not to. She can be talked into doing anything for her friends and would’ve released you if you’d asked. And the kidnapping wasn’t my idea, but I was totally willing to support the plan if it kept you here until I got back.” Eden grinned as she picked up the watering can and handed it to Chloe. “And from the looks of things, you seem to be enjoying your captivity. Did my pops con you into watering his plants while they are in Mexico?”

“Your grandmother was the one who asked. Although she was nice enough to pay me with marijuana brownies. Why didn’t you tell me that your grandparents are stoners?”

“It’s not exactly something I’m proud of. You didn’t eat one, did you?”

“What do you think?”

Eden shook her head. “Of course you ate one. You and Madison will eat anything chocolate. So what happened?”

Something had happened. She had started to like Grayson more than she should. But she couldn’t tell Eden that. “Nothing happened, but I would like you to explain how you ended up being so uptight with your hippy grandparents and yoga-loving mother.”

Eden shrugged. “I’m sure they’ve asked the same question. And speaking of my mother, she was very upset when she heard that you were leaving San Francisco. She had high hopes that you would go to college after she helped you get your GED.”

“What would I do in college?” Chloe refilled the watering can from the outside spigot and continued watering.

“How about study horticulture? Then you could buy a greenhouse and sell flowers to every vendor in northern California. I’d be willing to invest.”

It was an intriguing idea. One that Chloe might look into once she was in England. But not here. “I’m not staying in California.”

Eden didn’t look shocked as much as exasperated. “You can’t tell me that you’re still planning on leaving.”

Chloe was still planning on it, and sooner rather than later. She had promised to stay until Eden got back. Well, Eden was back. Which meant that all she needed to do was get Grayson to paint her so she could get her money from Deirdre Beaumont.

“Okay.” Chloe stepped around Eden. “I won’t tell you.”

“Chloe!” Eden grabbed her arm and turned her around. “That is such bullshit. And I’m not letting you go until you give me three good reasons for leaving. And I’m not talking about the crap you gave Madison about being young and needing excitement. San Francisco is one of the most exciting cities in the world.”

This was the reason Chloe hadn’t wanted to tell Eden she was leaving. The woman was as stubborn as the day was long. Or maybe as stubborn as Chloe.

“Look, it’s nice that you like me and want me to stay,” she said. “But I don’t need three reasons for leaving. I only need one…because I want to.” She placed the watering can by the spigot. “Lock up when you leave.”

She should’ve known that it wouldn’t be that easy. Eden caught up with her at the front door. “I don’t believe you for a second,” she said as she stepped outside and waited for Chloe to lock the door with the key Mrs. Huckabee had given her. “You don’t really want to leave. You love San Francisco. This is your home. Where all your friends are.”

Chloe pocketed the key and walked the twenty or so feet to Grayson’s front door. “We’re not friends, Eden. I didn’t even come to your wedding. What kind of friend is that?”

“The kind who has been hurt badly in the past and is afraid of opening her heart,” Eden said.

Chloe rolled her eyes. “I hope your book isn’t as dramatic as you are. And I’m not afraid of opening my heart. I opened it to Zac.”

Eden sent her a smug look. “I’ll have you know that my editor loves my dramatic prose. And the only reason you felt comfortable loving Zac is because he didn’t love you back. You’re not afraid of loving people, Chloe. You’re afraid of people loving you. If they love you, then you feel like you owe them something—something you don’t think you can give.”

Eden was right. There was a responsibility that came with someone loving you. And Chloe had to live with enough guilt. She didn’t need any more.

She pulled her hand free. “It doesn’t matter, Eden. I’m still leaving—” She broke off when she looked over Eden’s shoulder and saw Grayson standing not more than a few feet away. The last couple of days, his eyes had sparkled with humor. Today his eyes were direct and solemn as they studied Chloe.

“Grayson!” Eden walked over and gave him a hug. “I’m glad you’re here. You can help me talk some sense into Chloe and keep her from leaving.”

Grayson continued to look at Chloe as he spoke. “I promised you that I’d keep her here until you got back. I did that.” Without another word he brushed past Chloe and disappeared inside the house. It was hard not to feel annoyed. He could’ve at least acted a little disappointed that she was leaving. Of course, why should he feel disappointed? He’d kept her here only so she wouldn’t ruin Eden and Nash’s honeymoon. Now that they were back, he probably couldn’t wait to get rid of her.

“Poor guy,” Eden said. “He’s been working overtime since Nash and Deacon took off. And then I placed you on his doorstep. That couldn’t be fun.”

“Thanks a lot.”

Eden sent her a dubious look. “As if you don’t know that you’re a pain in the butt.” She glanced at her watch. “I have to go. I’ve got a meeting with my literary agent.”

“When does your book come out?”

“Not for months. I’m working on revisions now and then I want you to read it and tell me what you think. Which is just another reason why you can’t leave.”

“You can always send me your book.”

Eden shook her head. “Oh no, I’m not falling for that one. Once you’re gone, we’ll never hear from you again.” She held out her pinkie finger. “Which is why I want you to pinkie swear that you won’t leave until we’ve talked.”

Knowing that Eden wouldn’t leave until she got the promise, Chloe rolled her eyes and hooked her pinkie with Eden’s as she crossed the fingers of her other hand behind her back. “Fine. I pinkie swear that I won’t go anywhere until you get back. Now get out of here before you’re late.”

She waited for Eden to climb back into her car before she headed inside to search for Grayson. The faster he did the painting, the faster she could go. She found him sitting on the balcony trying to get Jonathan to eat a sardine by waving it in front of him. The bird didn’t even look at the fish. He just sat in the pot with his eyes closed.

“I thought you learned your lesson yesterday. The bird doesn’t mind biting the hand that feeds him.” She sat down in a chair. “So when did you get home? I didn’t hear that growling beast of a car pull into the garage.”

“I took the trolley to work today.” He placed the sardine back in the can and, without another word, got up and walked back inside. It was obvious that he wasn’t in a talking mood, and she should have taken the hint and given him some space. Instead she followed him downstairs to his bedroom. After the first night, Chloe had moved into the guest room. Which explained the messy condition of the room.

“Did anyone ever tell you that you’re a slob, Grayson?” She sat down on his mussed bed and crossed her legs pretzel-style. “What are you doing home so early?”

“Nash is back at work.” He disappeared inside the walk-in closet.

“That should be a relief,” she called. “Now you don’t have to be there so much.”

A few moments later, he appeared in the doorway of the closet in ripped jeans and his dress shirt, now unbuttoned. It was hard to keep her eyes away from the thin strip of hard chest and firm abs. But his next words pulled her attention to his face. “Why did you pinkie swear to Eden? We both know that you’re not going to say goodbye.”

It didn’t surprise her that he’d overheard her talking to Eden. She and Eden had been standing right under the balcony. “Goodbyes are overrated,” she said. “No one wants tears and sadness to be the last memory they have of someone.”

“That’s bullshit.” He jerked off his shirt and dropped it to the floor. “My dad thought I was too young to see my mother the night she died so I didn’t get to say goodbye. And I’m still pissed at him for that. People need to say goodbye. They need closure—or at least the opportunity to tell the people leaving how much they’re going to be missed. But you aren’t going to let anyone do that, are you? You’re just going to run off in the middle of the night like a chickenshit.”

Chloe’s anger rose to the surface, and she jumped from the bed. “I’m not a chickenshit!” She paused. “You’re going to miss me?”

He ignored the question as he walked to the dresser and pulled out a T-shirt. “I don’t know what you’d call it. It seems pretty chickenshit to me. When are you going to stop running and face your problems head on?”

“Oh, let’s talk about facing problems, shall we? You can’t even pick up a paintbrush without hyperventilating. All you’ve done for the last three nights is doodle—and I’ve peeked at your sketches, Graysie, and they stink!” It was a lie. They didn’t stink. They were amazing. But she was hoping the statement would make him want to prove her wrong. And it did exactly that.

His eyes widened for a second before they narrowed. “You want to see me pick up a paintbrush? Fine!” He dropped the T-shirt and headed to the chest of drawers where he kept his paints. He chose numerous tubes and brushes before placing them on the table next to the easel. Unsure of what to do, Chloe just stood there and watched as he opened each tube of paint and dabbed some on the palette before mixing them with something that looked like a little gardening trowel.

When he glanced up, he lifted an eyebrow. “What are you waiting for? Get naked.”

It was weird. Five days ago she would’ve stripped for him without any compunction whatsoever. But after getting to know him, she now felt suddenly shy.

“Right now?” She fidgeted with the hem of her T-shirt. “I mean, don’t you need to do some warm-up exercises first? A few finger flexes. Some more drawings of me…with my clothes on.”

“I’m as warmed up as I’ll ever be.” He cocked his head. “What’s the problem? I thought you wanted to do this. Have you changed your mind?”

“No. No, I didn’t change my mind.” She took a deep breath and slowly released it before she pulled off her T-shirt and shimmied out of her jeans. She wore another one of the bra-and-panty sets that Madison had given her. This one a deep maroon with a black satin ribbon laced through the eyelet material.

When she’d posed for Grayson before in her underwear, she hadn’t felt the least bit bashful—probably because he’d been hidden behind a camera. But now he wasn’t hidden behind a camera. He was just sitting there on the stool next to the easel and canvas, his gaze running over her with an intensity that made a blush heat her body from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. And she couldn’t seem to get the rest of her clothes off.

Grayson must’ve figured it out because, after picking out a canvas and placing it on the easel, he walked to the door. “By the time I get back, I want you naked and on the bed. And if you need to go to the bathroom, do it now. You won’t be moving much in the next couple hours.”

Once he was gone, she didn’t hesitate to take off her underwear and dive on the bed. She was completely covered with the sheet when he walked back in with a bottle of wine. He poured her a glass and handed it to her.

“There’s no need to be nervous,” he said. “All you have to do is lie there. I’ll do the rest.”