Melody Anne's Billionaire Universe: Roadside Assistance (Kindle Worlds Novella) (3 page)

Jeremy scrubbed a hand over his face and sighed. “Stony Hollow Rehabilitation called today. They want to know what our plan is for Dad.”

She braced her hands on the counter as she leaned back against the sink. “He’s staying in the home.”

“Did you find a pot of gold I don’t know about?”

“I’ll figure it out.”

“We have enough for three months. We need to have an alternate plan before time is up.”

“We can sell a truck.”

“We could, but I don’t think downsizing is the way to go. We need to start considering other places.”

A pang in her chest made her wince. “The other places sucked.”

He sighed. “I know. Look, we’ll figure it out. I just wanted you to know.”

Before she let it get to her, before she let the burden drop in the middle of her chest, yet again, she reached for the fridge. “I need another beer.”

He nodded to the living room. “Don’t get loaded around that guy. I’m not sure I like the way he looks at you.”

She snorted and popped the top off of both beers she’d pulled out. “I’m twenty-eight. Let the big-brother routine go.”

He tugged her ponytail, something that used to drive her nuts, but now that he did it less and less, she found comforting. It was the little things that told her she wasn’t alone in this. She may be practically an orphan, but she had Jeremy. “Never, brat.”

She kissed his cheek. “Pinhead.” Then she left him standing in the kitchen and returned to her guest.

She took a guess by grabbing two beers. If Lathan didn’t need another one yet, well, he would just have to catch up. Her steps faltered when she spotted him lounging on the leather sofa, his ankle crossed over his knee, one hand over the back of the couch, the other holding his beer as it rested on his knee.

Her eyes locked on his and there it was again. The heat. The attraction. The thousand different ways they were mismatched and the chemistry that just didn’t care about logic.

She stopped before him, her steel-toed boot bumping into his impossibly shiny dress shoe with who knew what designer name. She didn’t know about these things and didn’t care. She probably couldn’t pronounce it anyway.

“More?”

“Oh, yeah.”

She bent to set her beer on the slate coffee table and out of the corner of her eye caught the way his gaze flickered down her shirt as she did. Not much to see there. She wasn’t flat, but Sports Illustrated certainly wasn’t calling either.

“Here, I’ll take that.” She reached for his empty beer and, as she handed him the fresh one, their fingers brushed. His lingered. All the female parts of her she’d tried to suppress since she met him flared to life. It didn’t matter what lie she told herself. Her body wanted him.

Breaking the contact, she took the empty to the kitchen and returned. Not one to play coy, she grabbed her beer and dropped to the cushion next to him. Why fight it? She might was well enjoy the zing while he was here. He would be gone soon enough.

“What are we doing?” she asked, and took a long drink.

“Just enjoying a cold drink and each other’s company.”

“This is a shit idea.”

“Maybe, but only one way to find out. So what’s the deal with your dad?”

“How much did you hear?”

“All of it.”

She nodded. “He has an aggressive form of Alzheimer’s that’s stealing every last part of him, one piece at a time.”

“Shit. I’m sorry.”

“It is what it is. I hate to say it but I’m just relieved he’s in the care facility, because I just couldn’t do it anymore.” She rolled her head to the side and eyed him openly. “I couldn’t wake up one more time and watch my father die before my very eyes. If that makes me weak, then so be it.”

“The last thing I think of when I look at you is weak.”

“Yeah, well you don’t know me.”

“I know plenty.”

“Really, Casanova. Hit me with it then. Sum me up in a neat little package.”

“Strong, responsible, loyal, forgiving, generous, and hands-down the most beautiful women I’ve seen in my almost thirty-five years.”

“God, you’re old.”

He laughed and brushed his fingers over her ponytail.

“I wish I was half of that,” she said.

“You’re all of that. What if I told you I could help you?”

“I’m not a charity case. So, no.”

“I’m not talking charity; more like a mutually-beneficial arrangement.”

“Uh-huh. If it sounds too good to be true, it usually is.”

“It won’t be a cake walk, but it will solve your problem and a problem I’m having of my own. If I don’t marry in seventeen days, I lose my trust fund. That money is promised to a project I’m working on in Kenya. If I don’t deliver, a lot of kids are left hanging with no way to get an education. I can’t let that happen.”

Jack tilted her head. “You’re funding a school. I didn’t see that, but now that I know, I’m not surprised.”

Lathan squirmed. He didn’t want recognition; he just wanted to honor his obligation. “How much is it going to take to provide care for your father for the rest of his life?”

“If we keep him where he is, in a facility that takes exceptional care of him…it could run a half million by the time all is said and done.”

“Not a problem.”

“Oh, I’m sure it’s not. What’s it going to cost me?”

“A year.”

“I don’t follow.” She knocked back a healthy swallow, ready to be done with the riddles.

“You and me, married for a year.”

That did it. She sucked in a breath, and beer, leading her into spastic coughing fit. She doubled over with her head between her knees. Lathan grabbed for her beer and set it on the coffee table while rubbing her back with his other hand. As her gasps evened out, her focus shifted from the discomfort in her throat and her watering eyes to the large hand rhythmically tracing over her back.

Marriage. Jesus. Obviously, she figured one day she might get around to it. You know, when she figured out what to do about her dad and had the financial freedom to enter into something long-term. Of course, that meant finding a guy she didn’t mind looking at every day for the rest of her life, too.

That might be an issue. She didn’t do long-term. Never had. Her longest relationship had been just over six months. First, he’d seemed upset that she wasn’t one of those typical females who started leaving this and that at his place in an effort to insert herself into his life. Then he started bringing bits and pieces over to her house. When he added his shave gel preference to the grocery list she and Jeremy kept on the fridge, she booted him out of her house and out of her life.

She didn’t shed a tear or feel a twinge, because, apparently, he just didn’t matter that much to her. One day, he would realize she’d done him a favor.

“Is the prospect of being married to me for a year so horrifying that you can’t speak?”

“Yes, but probably not for the reason you expect.”

“Enlighten me.”

“I’m shit with men.”

“That’s your argument?”

“What if we don’t have chemistry?”

He grunted. “That’s just weak.”

“Well, we don’t even know if we like kissing each other.”

“So let’s find out.”

She leaned away from him and shook her head. “What? No.”

“What’s the matter, Jack? Scared?”

“I’m not scared of anything.”

He stood then, and gave her a grin that ratcheted her internal temperature up a good ten degrees. “Spiders?”

“No.”

He took a step toward her. “Snakes?”

She shook her head, setting her ponytail swinging. “Nope.”

“The Bogeyman?”

“Please? What are we, five?”

“Then let’s dispense with the playground banter and test the attraction that’s been simmering since the minute you stepped out of that rig of yours.”

She waited a beat, then two, with her heart thudding heavy in her chest like it was pumping through molasses. “Fine, one kiss. If it’s any good, I’ll consider you offer.” She held up a finger. “Consider!”

“Consider this, Jack.”

Before she could take a breath, he had hooked those long fingers around the back of her neck and pulled her mouth under his. Warm lips fit perfectly over hers. His confident tongue slid inside her mouth to toy with hers. She burned from the top of her head to the bottom of her feet. Her scalp stung. Her nipples tightened painfully. Her body readied itself for complete domination.

The damned attraction was off the charts, and unlike any attraction she had ever experienced. The humming she thought was low in his throat, no, oh God, it was her. She wrenched her lips away from his, mortified to see both of her hands fisted in his shirt. She had pulled one side free of his pants.

He stood there staring at her, his chest heaving. “Chemistry is not a problem.” Headlights shone into the living room window as his ride pulled up in front of the house.

“You work tomorrow?”

“I have a four-day weekend.”

“Good.” He scrawled an address on the back and handed it to her. “Here’s my card. If you want to take me up on my offer, be here, tomorrow, 6 p.m.” Before she knew what he was doing, he laid a gentle kiss on her forehead and was gone.

She flipped over the card and found an address on Highwood Street in Brentwood, an area known for its multi-million-dollar estates.

Damn.

3

Lathan sat at his brother’s desk with a stack of reports from the heads of each department of Kincaid Industries. He looked at the clock. 8 a.m. He would be lucky if he was done in time to attend his own engagement party.

That’s right, engagement party.

The one person he counted on to have his back, Jessica, had texted that morning to say she couldn’t make it. The baby was sick.

These things happened and he certainly didn’t hold it against her, but he was dreading the party now, even more so than before when his only potential problem was not having a fiancée in attendance.

Also, his fault.

He went and opened his mouth to his family about proposing to Kim and, in turn, they jumped the gun and threw together a small party of at least a hundred people: family, friends, and business associates. This may have been because he never officially introduced them to her, and a party would lock in the engagement. Appearances were everything in his world. They were a bit nosy, a lot overbearing, and the last thing he wanted before he had the chance to propose was for them to scare her off.

Plans change, if Jack took him up on his offer. They couldn’t scare her, of that he was positive.

Just the image of her with that beer tipped to her lips, those toned arms… that tattoo. He shifted in his chair and redirected his thoughts. Getting worked up wasn’t going to get the reports signed. He’d never met anyone like her. So unaffected, so confident in who she was. It wasn’t just that she wasn’t the typical rich chick. He’d dated several women outside of his social circle before Liam died. Now he felt like an idiot for thinking he would have better long-term luck inside his social circle. When it came down to it, he wasn’t even inside his social circle.

His family loved him. He knew they did, but when they looked at him they wondered how he had turned out the way he did. He knew that for a fact. He’d heard his parents talking about it one night. He had stumbled in after a rather wild party. He’d returned home sunburned, drunk off his ass, and sporting a huge black and blue on his thigh from his surfboard.

They were in his dad’s library; his dad was enjoying a late-night cigar, his mother joined him with her late-night glass of wine. She thought they didn’t know. She made it a point to say that she only had a glass with dinner, “because we mustn’t let our drinking get out of control” like so many of their country club friends.

Because that second glass of wine might really drive things over the edge.

“Really, Bradford, you need to do something about Lathan.”

“Last time I checked, Annette, he was your son, too.”

“Of course, but he’s a man now and a man needs his father to steer him. He’s not going to listen to a word I have to say.”

“He’s just sowing some wild oats. It’ll pass.”

“He’s been like this since he was a young child. He’s always done the opposite of what’s expected. It’s only mildly embarrassing right now, but what if one day he controls Kincaid Industries? What then?”

“Liam is the heir to Kincaid Industries.”

“Yes, but if anything were to happen…”

“I’ll speak with him, ma cherie.”

Who knew his mother would end up being right? About both of them. He owed it to Liam to give running the company a shot. If that meant hiring a team to help him so he didn’t screw it up, like it was looking he might do, he would do that, too.

The Chief Financial Officer, Davis Conroy, reported a ten percent decline in profits for the quarter. Lathan pulled out the quarterly reports for the past two years, and after poring over them, he decided to call the one man Liam had trusted, well-known financial expert, Everett Harden.

“Good morning. Everett Harden speaking.”

“Hi Everett, this is Lathan Kincaid, Liam’s brother.”

“Lathan, good to hear from you. What can I help you with?”

“I see that you did an evaluation for Liam before…” Lathan cleared his throat. “Before, uh, before he passed.”

“I did. I’m sorry about your brother. He was a good man.”

“Thank you. I just went over the latest financial report and there’s a ten percent dip in profits. For the past two years, we’ve steadily increased. I’m concerned I’m missing something, so before a leak becomes a flood—”

Everett laughed. “You want me to take a look?”

“If you could spare the time, yes.”

“Absolutely. I can be there by the end of the day, if that works for you. Corrine is going stir-crazy and could use the time away. We’ll make a weekend out of it.”

“That’s far sooner than I expected. Thanks, Everett. I owe you huge.”

“Don’t worry about it. You’ll be doing me a favor.”

Comfortable with Everett and maybe a little desperate, Lathan made a go for broke. “If you want, you can join us this evening. It’s my engagement party.”

“Congratulations, man! Who’s the lucky woman?”

“Jack Price.”