What Matters Most: The Billionaire Bargains, Book 2 (19 page)

Tony wasn’t about to deny that good sex could get people to do a lot of things they might not usually do. Still, he felt his grand gesture was being too easily dismissed.

“I’m in love with her. This isn’t about me needing an apartment.”

Trish stopped in front of apartment 3G. She inserted a key into the lock and turned. “So what do you need?” she asked. “Because I know people and no one ever does anything without getting stuff in return.” She pushed the door open. “Except for Reese.”

Tony followed Trish into the apartment, incredibly intrigued by what she’d just said. “Except Reese?” he asked. “What do you mean?”

“I mean your new wife is the best person I’ve ever met.” Trish let go of his suitcase and turned to face him, hands on her hips. “And if you mess with her or hurt her, you’re going to have most of this apartment complex and probably several dozen other people all over your hot rich ass.”

Tony stared at her. There were a few things in her declaration that he was very interested in, but he finally asked simply, “How do you know I’m rich?”

“Honey, this suitcase here could pay for all of my car repairs
and
buy me dinner.”

Tony looked at his luggage. He’d never really given much thought to his suitcases. Will picked them out. As long as they held his clothes and shoes, Tony didn’t care much about how they looked or what they cost.

He went to the bag beside her, knocked it onto its side and dumped the contents onto the floor in Reese’s foyer. “Know where to sell it?” he asked.

Trish looked doubtful “Yeah.”

“Then it’s all yours.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“My clothes are staying right here for a very long time. It’s all yours.” He zipped it back up and set it back on its wheels. “And it’s up to you if you take your husband with you to dinner.”

Trish shook her head and actually smiled slightly. “I wouldn’t believe this for one second, except that you are married to Reese. That’s enough recommendation for me.”

Tony felt a surge of pride at that. Reese was already making him a better man.

Trish left, with his suitcase, and Tony took his clothes into Reese’s bedroom one armful at a time. As he went, he took note of everything in her place, from the small loveseat and matching chair in her living room, to the small double bed in her bedroom. Everything was small and lightly colored and very feminine.

He wasn’t uncomfortable with pastels and flowers. Sleeping in her bed would simply mean they’d have to sleep right against one another—definitely not a problem. The issue was that there was no room on that loveseat, coffee table or the tiny table in her kitchen to get down and dirty without breaking a leg—if not a human leg, definitely a wooden furniture leg.

He was grinning about that when he heard a knock on the door. He glanced at the clock. The moving company had gotten here early. He’d have to tip them big. And this would solve the problem of the tiny loveseat and bed for sure.

He swung the door open, prepared to greet the big burly movers, only to find himself staring into empty space.

“Is Reese home?”

The voice came from several feet below. Tony looked down. Three kids—two girls and a boy—stood looking up at him with big eyes. One girl held a piece of construction paper, the other girl was in the middle holding hands with both of the other children, and the boy was on the end with his finger stuck in his mouth.

“Reese isn’t home yet,” he told them. He was good with kids. He’d helped with raising Emily and had always been very comfortable making her friends giggle at her birthday parties and hauling them around to sleepovers and camp and swimming lessons. “How can I help you, ma’am?” He crouched in front of them with a smile.

The tallest of the girls thrust the piece of pink paper at him. “This is for her.”

He took it and looked it over. It was folded in half and was clearly meant to be a greeting card. The front had a character that was obviously a bride and a man standing next to her with a bow tie. But there was a big red X over the man. Inside it read
Sorry you didn’t get married
in purple crayon. At the bottom was an additional note in black ballpoint ink and more adult-looking cursive writing that said
I’ve got margarita mix and Godiva truffles—I want the whole story about TONY STEELE
.

Ah, so these must be children of one of Reese’s friends. Clearly, whoever was offering margaritas and chocolate knew the wedding hadn’t happened and that Reese had left with him. He also liked his name in capital letters. That made him grin.

Tony glanced up at the kids and hid his smile at their somber faces. They were upset about the non-wedding.

“I’ll be sure to give this to her the minute she gets home,” he promised.

“Are you the doctor?” the second girl asked.

“The doctor?” Tony repeated. “No, I’m not. Why?”

“Mommy told Vincent that she was sure the guy with Reese was making her feel all better.”

Tony hid his laugh with a cough. He didn’t know much, but he did know that Reese was feeling better than she had when she’d left Kansas City.

“Well, Reese is definitely feeling better,” Tony said. “In fact…” He pulled a red marker out of the pencil holder that sat next to the pile of mail and a notepad on the countertop and wrote
Reese is better than ever
, then handed the notes and the box of macaroni to the kids. “Give this to your mom and tell her I’m very happy to meet my new neighbors.”

The little girls’ eyes both got round. The little boy continued to suck on his index finger.

They ran off and Tony watched them until they barreled through the door four down from Reese’s with a loud, “Mom!”

Chuckling, he shut the door and resumed his snooping around his wife’s living space.

But fifteen minutes later, he didn’t know anything more about her than he had to start with. She had lots of photographs, almost entirely made up of people. No landscapes, no abstracts, no paintings. Photographs taken by personal cameras of the people and events in her life. She was in some of them, but it was clear that she was most often the photographer—capturing moments in her life that she wanted to remember.

A strange twinge grabbed Tony in the chest. It was stupid to be jealous of the moments he hadn’t been there, the moments she’d shared with other people. Reese had had twenty some years of life before he came along.

But they didn’t even have photos from their courtship or wedding. True, their courtship had been only a few hours long, and if he couldn’t remember he’d
had
a wedding, remembering to be sure it was recorded on film was a long shot. But it was hard to believe the chapel hadn’t persuaded him to drop some serious cash on a photo package.

Maybe he should call out there and see. Maybe they had taken some pictures but he and Reese had been too preoccupied—he preferred that term to drunk off his ass—to remember to grab them on their way out.

Tony reached for his phone. But all he could do was swear.

It would help in calling them if he knew which chapel they had used.

His phone rang before he could call Will for all the numbers of all the wedding chapels in Vegas and put his assistant on calling each one to see if he and Reese had gotten married there.

The screen on his phone showed it was Reese calling and he welcomed the way his heart jumped just seeing her name.

As he answered, he decided he was going to throw her a huge, lavish wedding and reception right here in Kansas City with everyone they knew in attendance. Any woman who could make him feel the way she did deserved to be treated like a queen.

And he was still thinking he could talk her into the billboard.

“Hello, Mrs. Steele,” he answered.

There was a slight hesitation on her end and he imagined she’d caught her breath at his greeting. He loved doing that to her.

“Hi.” Her voice was a little breathless.

He liked that too.

“I miss you,” he said truthfully.

Most of the people in his closest circle would be amazed at the way he was acting, but he was proud of his good sense. When you found something special, you held on.

She gave a soft laugh. “It’s only been a few hours.”

“Honey, let me tell you—in great detail—what I could be doing with a few hours if you were here in person.” He had a great list that he was more than willing to share with her.

“That will just make this worse,” she told him.

“What?”

“My flight is delayed. Some kind of mechanical thing. I’ll be two hours later than I thought.”

Tony sighed. “Really liking my private plane more and more.”

“Me too.”

She did sound dejected. Which Tony liked. A lot. She might think this was all crazy, she might even be right, but she wanted to be with him. Sure, maybe it was just that she’d rather be with him than stuck in the Salt Lake airport, but she was thinking about him. He could work with that.

“I can get the plane there, Reese. Pick you up, bring you home. Or take you to the Bahamas or Hawaii or anywhere else. Just say the word.”

She sighed. “That sounds nice.”

“I’m on my way.”

“No. Just—this is better. Just get your stuff organized and everything and I’ll call you when I get to Kansas City.”

“I’ll see you as soon as you get here. I’m at your apartment.”

“Already?”

“Yes. And I’ve met the neighbors.”

“Neighbors?”

“Short, polite, artistic, one sucks his finger.”

She laughed. “You met the Werther kids.”

He loved the sound of her laugh. “I have a sympathy card here for you from them.”

“Sympathy?”

“For your wedding. Your first wedding.”

“Did you tell them about…the second wedding?” she asked.

“I did not. But they are under the impression I’m a medical professional and that my job is to make you feel better. I assured them I was taking my job very seriously.”

“Oh boy. You’re about to have a whole bunch of people on your—my—doorstep,” she told him.

“Great. I love entertaining.”

She groaned. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

“Me or them?” he asked with a grin. He was already anticipating all of the stories he was going to get about his wife before she got home. Not to mention the chance to charm a bunch of people into thinking he was the best thing to ever happen to her. If—and it was a big if—she continued to think that them being married was a crazy idea that would never last, he could use some people on his side.

He intended to have
all
of the people on his side.

“You,” she said without hesitation.

He chuckled. “Well, I hope they bring refreshments. You’ve got nothing here and I’m not supposed to spend any money.”

“Refreshments? You’re not throwing a party at my apartment when I’m not there.”

“Parties tend to just happen around me.” He grinned, imagining the eye roll she very likely gave at that.

“Maybe you need to…leave.”

“Leave? Where would I go? I’m home.”

“You have a house. Probably more than one.” She paused. “How many houses
do
you have?”

“In Kansas City? One.”

“In the world.”

“Oh.” He thought for a moment. He’d recently sold his beach house in California so… “Three.”

“Oh my God,” she muttered.

He chuckled.

“So go to one of your houses.”

“Well, I would, but I don’t have a car. Or money for a cab now. Not to mention a plane ticket.”

Again, he pictured her look of exasperation. “Or friends with cars?” she asked.

“If my friends show up here, the party will just be bigger.”

“I’m married to a teenager with ADHD,” she said, almost under her breath. Almost.

He chuckled. In many ways, she wasn’t wrong. He had a lot of interests, liked to have a good time, enjoyed life and loved to help the people around him enjoy it too.

“A teenager with ADHD who’s been grounded and had his allowance slashed,” he replied, vastly amused.

He’d win her over. He’d make sure that
she
had a good time, enjoyed life, loved having him around. He’d been doing that to people most of his life. His wife should be no different.

Throw in the amazing sex and he should have it made.

“Just…” She sighed. “There’s no way you can sit there and
not
answer the door or invite a bunch of people into my house, is there?”

There was a knock on the door at that very moment. Tony grinned. “I’m afraid not.”

“And somehow this is all my own fault,” she said, almost as if she was talking to herself.

Tony answered the door to a hallway full of people. In the front of the small crowd, were three guys wearing Marv’s Moving shirts. Behind them were the Werther kids, holding a huge blue plastic bowl and a skinny woman dressed in nurses scrubs who Tony assumed was their mother. Beside them were two older women wearing shorts and tank tops and each carrying a plate covered in aluminum foil. The final guest was a big guy who had to be about fifty with a black goatee and bleach-blond hair. He wore a faded Harley Davidson T-shirt over his wide chest and shoulders with ragged blue jeans and black leather boots. He was carrying a bag of potato chips.