Mr. Grayson: Billionaires’ Club Book 4: Chapter 16

Iblame Breanne wearing next to nothing when she opened the door to her condo tonight for my brain misfiring when she called me out for helping her. The truth was, I had no good answer for why I suddenly felt more invested in her well-being than I should have been.

I tried answering her confusion about me wanting to help her, but I was perplexed by it as well. Beyond perplexed, actually. The brutal truth was that I didn’t give a shit about anyone except for my close group of friends. So, I don’t know when, where, or what the hell happened to make me give half a damn, let alone this fucking much, about Breanne’s unfortunate situation.

None of that shit mattered at this point because trying to justify what I was doing would only give me a headache. All of it made perfect sense until she questioned my motivations.

“Listen,” I finally spoke after we got back onto the highway and continued driving, “I’m probably as confused about why I’m…”

And there went my goddamn brain again. Blank. What the fuck was happening to me tonight?

“Why you’re what? Suddenly switching up from Satan in a suit to my savior in a suit?”

I grinned. “Pretty much, yes,” I answered, seeing that the tables had turned. “But you did mention that you believed I was doing this because I enjoyed watching you go through shit.”

“There’s no other better reason, is there?”

“I understand what you mean.” I sighed and rubbed my forehead as I blew out a breath. Now her perfume was fogging up my brain. I needed to floor it and get to the house. “Since you and I are on the truth train,” I found my bearings in the horsepower of my car, “I’ll be honest when I say I think your perfume is fucking with my mind or something.”

Breanne laughed in a way that made me think that maybe I was fucking right about the bewitching fragrance she wore.

“What the hell is that scent anyway?” I had to ask, given the woman’s infectious laugh and the fact that I knew I’d solved the mystery of why I was acting entirely out of character with a woman I hardly knew on a personal level.

“It’s called Sundazed,” she laughed again. “Byredo is the one you should blame, I guess?”

“Makes sense.” I glanced at her. “Seriously, I can’t fucking think with that fragrance all up in—”

“Spare me.” She rolled her eyes. “I hardly think my perfume is the reason you can’t focus.”

“Really?” I questioned. “Then explain to me why I’m suddenly at a loss for words for doing any of this. I know that I’m not reveling in your unfortunate situation. I also know for a damn fact that I wouldn’t be bringing you to the one house that I’ve never brought a woman to, aside from my friends.”

I pinched my lips, knowing I’d admitted to something I should have kept my mouth shut about. Could I make any of this more awkward for either of us?

“Well,” Breanne finally said when I felt the heat of her gaze on me, “it looks like my perfume is going to have you and me well on our way to living in the suburbs together then, huh?” She chuckled. “I guess I should feel honored that you’re bringing me to the one place you don’t bring random women, eh?”

“I need a goddamn bourbon,” I admitted. “Let’s just get to the fucking house before I say another word.”

“He’s uncomfortable,” she taunted. “Wow. I’m intrigued now.”

“Intrigued or not,” I answered, “I need to flush my sinuses and have a drink.”

Fuck me. Okay. I gave more than just a damn about her. I loved her dimpled smile. I wanted her at my beach house tonight, and the power outage was a blessing from above to make that happen. Yes, I could’ve called her friends or allowed her to get out of this, but I didn’t want that. I wanted her to myself. That was the truth-bomb. That was what I’d been too afraid to admit to her or myself—I wanted her.

How I went from being merely attracted to Breanne to this was the million-fucking-dollar question. I’d gone so far as convincing myself there was some love potion mixed into her perfume to rationalize all of this shit. This is why I needed a drink, this is why she should stay away from me, and this is every reason why I didn’t want her to. For the first time in my impossible life, I was attracted to a woman beyond wishing to fuck her.

I wanted to see her smile at me in a humorous conversation. I desired to watch her green eyes dazzle when she flashed that dimpled smile—oh, sweet Jesus, I’d even called her dimples earlier! I was in so far over my head. Thank God she was so angry I was on this rescue mission that she’d missed that part.

“This is your place?” she asked when the overhead door opened, and we pulled into my immaculate garage. “Impressive.”

I pulled in and parked next to my CJ7 Jeep, the vehicle that only left this garage on the rare occasion I strapped my board to it and met my friends to surf.

“Not really, considering the cars you’ve seen me drive.” I smiled at her.

I opened my door faster than I should’ve, and I stepped out to inhale the masculine scent of my street bike, the opened top Jeep, and whatever else was manly in my garage, trying to shake off these unfamiliar emotions that’d sunk their teeth into me.

Was I really getting hung up on love? I wasn’t in love with anything. I loved my cat, cars, and friends, but women? No. Hell no. I wasn’t capable of love in a relationship, and every ex-girlfriend I’d ever had could testify to that. My thoughts had me flustered and confused, and my brain hurt, trying to reconcile everything. Regardless of what I told myself, this stunning woman who just stepped out of my car—messy bun on the top of her head and all—was about to follow my sorry ass into the place I’d never brought a woman before.

I glanced over at her, and she leveled me with that goddamn dimpled smile, an arch of her eyebrow, and a giggle to add to this chaos of emotional bullshit I had to deal with. If I was straight-up honest at this very moment, I was officially fucked.

“Alex.” She had the upper hand on my ass, and she knew it. “I love your Jeep.”

“Me too.” I kept it cool. “Now, it’s high time you and I get to talking about why you have such a loose relationship with the truth over a stiff drink,” I said, leaving the woman to follow me into my house as if I were fleeing a demon. “Hop to it, dimples…”

Fuck my life.

“That’s the second time you’ve called me that, and unless you’re referring to the dimples on my ass, I assume you’re calling me that because—”

Fucken-A. And now I’m thinking about her perfectly round ass and examining it for dimples? God help me.

“Your smile,” I said, keeping it together after the salty breeze from the opened doors in my living area slapped some brain cells back into me. I’d have to tip my cleaners more than usual for leaving the doors open tonight. “Your cheeks have dimples when you smile. I find them quite appealing.”

I scrambled to my outdoor bar, leaving no room for chit-chat. I rushed to the bar to down a quick shot, and once I’d set my glass down again and then gripped onto the bar counter, I found the woman watching me with a sassy smile.

“If you’re that much of a chicken shit, perhaps I can call one of my girlfriends and leave you to have your house to yourself tonight.”

I eyed her, the warmth of the bourbon chilling out my frazzled-ass nerves. “Nah,” I smirked. “You’re stuck with me.”

“You’re acting weird as hell.” She laughed, then boldly walked to where I was and poured herself a finger of bourbon. I watched her down it and smile. “There, now we can talk.”

I smiled, feeling like kind of a bitch. “What’s your flavor? I have my outdoor bar prepped by my housekeepers when I know I’m coming down here to escape for the weekend.”

Her smile was more mischievous than I’d ever seen it—or her. Hell, I didn’t think Breanne had this side to her if I were honest about that too. Since I was getting hit right and left with these blasts of fucking honesty with myself tonight, let’s add this one in there also. She looked sexier than fuck with this smile.

“Well, you seemed to enjoy me and that blow job…”

She paused and laughed while I choked on my bourbon.

“What, now?” I managed.

“God dang, man. You’re a mess.” She snickered pleasantly, watching me behave like an idiot. “This bourbon tastes quite delicious. I’ll have what you’re having.”

“Good.” I arched an eyebrow at her, taking advantage of me acting like a schoolboy who’d just caught his first glimpse of a pair of tits, and slid her a drink.

“Where can we sit to capture the best view on this fabulous patio?”

I watched her stroll around my lit-up pool, and her tanned skin appeared to glow under the party lights that were strung throughout the area. She was fascinating, and she was beautiful, so why fight any of this? I was attracted to her, so what?

While I watched her follow the path through the garden area that led out to the deck’s second level, I was filled with compassion for her situation. My heart was bleeding for this woman and what she’d been through.

Her father, Brian, had liquidated his assets—which were many—to set up a trust fund for Breanne when he died. I knew that because he reached out to Mitchell and Associates as soon as he was diagnosed with early-onset Alzheimer’s, and he did his best to set up the company for Bree. How could he know those rotten bastards would pillage everything? Her mother had died of breast cancer when Breanne was a little girl, so Brian knew his best chance at helping his daughter was to do what he did. I had the feeling his ghost was haunting the ungrateful mother fuckers who did Bree so dirty.

When talks of our merge began, and I saw Stone’s financials, I knew something had gone dreadfully wrong with Brian’s plans. To think that her vast inheritance was so swiftly depleted, to the point that she’d had her goddamn power cut tonight as a result of the betrayal she’d endured, made me feel angry and sad at the same time.

Strange that I could hardly give a fuck about it all back then, but now, all this knowledge I had about her father and her was hitting me directly in my heart at this very moment.

I sipped my bourbon and followed her to my lower deck. It was a well lit area with palms, a large spa, comfortable seating, and most of all, a railing that I leaned against more than once in thought when the things in my troubled past seeped in and tried to haunt me.

Strange how she seemed to find refuge and solitude in that railing herself. To hear the ocean, feel the breezes on a warm spring evening, and just altogether lose yourself in the waves below rolling into the wet sandy beach; it was quite a thing.

I had no idea why I was strumming up all of these emotional thoughts about Breanne’s father on a night when all hell seemed to be breaking loose inside me. I might not have given two fucks about who Breanne Stone was when Mr. Stone spoke highly of his daughter back then, but now, I felt it more than ever. I cared deeply about this woman’s happiness, and I wouldn’t allow her to sell her condo. She’d been dealt a shitty hand, and she deserved a fair shake.

“All right,” Breanne said as I stood next to her. “What’s your story, Alex?”

“Nope,” I responded as I stretched forward and rested my forearms on the top of the rail. “We’re not doing that.” I moved my snifter glass between my palms, studying the small ripples it made. “We’re here to solve the riddles of why you’ve been lying—”

“No,” Breanne answered me resolutely. “You don’t get shit from me unless you cough up some facts about yourself too.”

I looked at her cheeky grin and was lost in the dazzling eyes I wanted to see so desperately before. Now, these alluring eyes were working against me, not for me. I couldn’t help but smile and nod in compliance.

“You know, you’ve got to be a witch, or maybe I had an ex-girlfriend start to dabble in the dark arts, and she’s using you to break down a side of me that I don’t talk about to anyone.”

“No one?” Her eyes widened in humor. “Wow. It sounds like you are pretty screwed tonight because unless you get emotionally dirty with me, I’m not confiding jack shit into you. So, spill it.”

I exhaled and narrowed my eyes at her. I wasn’t a man who gave up details of his past to anyone. Hell, Jim was my best friend and closer than a brother to me, and he didn’t know half of the shit in my past.

“What do you want to know?” I asked the question because I wasn’t going to talk out of my ass for the hell of it.

She shrugged. “You seemed to spaz out back there after you questioned what love felt like. I’m curious why you were running efficiently on all cylinders, forcing me out of my powerless home, but ever since that word came up, and you’ve been acting strange.”

I chewed on the corner of my mouth. This wasn’t a question I was going to answer. Period. I was an excellent interrogator and negotiator; I was not the one who sat on the other side of that table. Turning things around is what I did, and I’d never fallen victim to someone flipping shit on me. I didn’t plan on starting now, either.

“Spaz out?” She was nothing if not observant. She’d seen right through me earlier. “Truth be told, I was a bit surprised that you’d think I would enjoy watching you going through hell. I suppose we don’t truly know each other, but you formed a hasty opinion of me, which caught me off-guard. So, with that said, I will clear the air.”

“Please do because I have no other reason to believe you’re not an asshole in a suit. I see the way your employees like to have you as their boss, but they are extra careful never to fuck up around you.”

“I’m sorry, but shouldn’t every employee behave that way with their boss? If they fuck up, I’ll fire them,” I answered truthfully. “That’s no reason to believe I’d enjoy firing them, though.”

“Fair answer, I guess.” She took a sip of her bourbon.

“It’s the truth,” I returned. “If I allowed emotions to run my game, I’d be a goddamn wreck and would suck at my job.”

“And your employees would possibly steal from you?”

I raised my eyebrows. “You’re not fair with yourself about that. Jim and Spence have even ordered an audit at Mitchell and Associates because dirty employees come in all shapes and sizes. Jim’s always being kept on his toes, and it appears that everyone except you thinks you should’ve easily known it was happening.”

“You found it the first week in,” she answered.

“That’s because the thieves we busted got sloppy about a month before I started auditing shit myself. One confessed, and the other tried to steal your clients right in front of you and me and gave all the dirty secrets away.”

“You’re saying you got lucky, then?”

“Pretty much. They were sloppy, and I sniffed their asses out, and now they’re gone. So, if that’s what led you to believe I would enjoy you in the shitter financially, then you have a lot more to learn about me as your business partner.”

“It’s not just that, I suppose,” she said

“What else do you suppose would make you form an opinion that I’m a twisted sociopath who would be happy to watch you lose everything?” I questioned.

“I’ve also heard rumors that when it comes to relationships, or whatever you might call them, you’re an unsympathetic asshole.”

I couldn’t help but smile at this fucking truth and wonder who was talking shit about me these days—so much so that Breanne would already know my reputation with women.

“Yes, I’m an asshole in the romance department and a dick in every sense of the word when it comes to relationships,” I admitted.

“Hence the reason you think you have a nasty witch on your ass?” She chuckled. “Perhaps with flying monkeys too?”

“Right.” I smiled and nodded at her silly response. I’d let her have another pass on the Wizard of Oz jokes, given the fact that I’d ripped her out of her apartment while she was in the middle of watching the show. “I pissed off the Witch of the North, I assume.”

The fact that she lightened up some with her interrogations—especially in the romance department—had me slightly relieved. I was cool to play along with fictional witches.

“That would be the good witch,” she turned back to look out at the water. “You’ve likely upset the Witch of the West; that’s the wicked one with the monkeys.”

“Indeed. Now, about the condo.” And getting back on track. “Why the hell are you getting rid of the last asset you have? Haven’t you lost enough in all of this crap you’ve been wading through?”

“I have lost enough, and as I told you, I don’t need rescuing,” she said. “The sale of my home will pay off every debt I owe, get me into renting a new apartment until I’m financially stable enough to buy a new one, and I’ll be able to afford a cheap car that can get me to and from work.”

“You realize your next check—”

“I know exactly what my next paycheck will be. I’ve been donating most of it to help keep Stone alive. I also know what it feels like to liquidate funds and lose shit for things I think are good.” She looked at me as I studied her. “But you already knew that, didn’t you?”

“I’ve seen the millions that an anonymous person has donated over the years, and in all of the ledgers I’ve gone through, I had no idea who that charitable giver was.” I pursed my lips. “That was, of course, until I learned you were in worse financial trouble than your company.”

“I’ve learned my lessons; I think you know that. Now, back to you.”

“You’re not getting shit out of me,” I said. “In fact, I feel like I’ve answered plenty of interrogating questions from you as it is.”

“You walked into those by explaining to me why you’re not the jerk I believed you were.”

“The operative word here being believed. As in, you don’t feel that way anymore?”

“For now. I still have no idea who the hell you are, though, and I’m not going to confide in you when I only know you as Alexander Grayson,” she said with that stubborn streak I was finding oddly appealing about her.

“Good God,” I sighed. “I’m not giving you details—”

“Then the truth train stops here, and I’m getting off of it,” she said, cutting me off.

“You’re stubborn, for sure,” I said.

Even though it was frustrating as hell, I had to accept that I loved a woman with fire in her spirit. All the women I’d ever known had allowed me to walk all over them. Not Breanne, though. She would dropkick my ass right over this ledge and out to sea if I fucked around or even entertained the idea of walking all over her. This made her highly attractive to me, and as hard as I was trying not to, I was starting to fall for the woman.

“Oh, God. Let’s make this easy, then. Your parents? Siblings? Do you have any?” she questioned, jerking me out of those thoughts.

“In a perfect world with a more normal person, I believe that would be an easy answer, but this is me, and it’s not,” I said.

I watched her frown. “Sorry. I lost both of my parents, and I’m over here acting like something as difficult couldn’t have happened to you.”

The concern I felt coming from her was written all over her face, and it softened me up the moment I’d somehow connected to her on this bizarre level. This truth train was about to turn into a runaway train that I may or may not be able to stop, and if there was one thing I didn’t want to get to the core of in my life, it was the truth.

My lips twitched as my mind told me to shut the fuck up about everything, but the other half of me was feeling as though it wouldn’t be a bad thing to open up—a little.

“Grayson is not my birth name,” I admitted.

“Oh, so just like Logan, you made up that one too?”

Her smile and the way she teased me kept me steady on this course.

“It’s my maternal grandfather’s surname. I left home the summer after my freshman year in high school, and I moved in with him. My grandfather, Logan Grayson, adopted me, and I proudly changed my last name to his. The man was my hero and savior in many ways.”

Her expression grew sincere. “Wow, well…” she stammered and looked away.

“Look who’s perplexed with the questioning now,” I smiled at her. “It’s fine. My mother had a stroke a year or so ago. We had a complicated relationship. She made some pretty questionable decisions about keeping my father around.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” she said.

I exhaled. “Whatever you say, don’t apologize for anything I’m dumb enough to reveal about my fucked-up family.”

“All right. Were you an only child?”

“Do we have to do the family tree shit?” I rolled my eyes when I saw her challenge me with her quit acting like a little bitch look. “I have two sisters. My younger one is married and lives in Arizona with my mom. The other, my oldest, went into the military to get the hell out as fast as she could and hasn’t looked back since.”

“The military?” she questioned.

“She’s a badass fighter pilot.”

“Top Gun?” she smiled thoughtfully.

I’d merely stated basic facts, and Breanne already had that concerned expression on her face that I despised people giving me. One question would lead to five more, which inevitably led to all the things that I would do anything to keep buried.

“Yep,” I ignored the pity-gesture and continued. “Jane is the only thing I can say I’m proud of in my family. She’s kicking ass on her aircraft carrier even as we speak.”

“That’s awesome. I didn’t—”

“Listen,” I interrupted before I took a sip of bourbon, “that’s all you’re getting out of my fucked-up past and family life. Your turn.”

“I feel like I pissed you off,” she said.

“No,” I answered. “I just don’t give this stuff airtime in my mind or conversation to anyone. In a nutshell, my family is like a goddamn Jackson Pollock painting.”

She ran her hand along my arm, and I nearly jumped at the soothing gesture. “I can see that this is rubbing you the wrong way, and I’m sorry I brought it up. You’re a strong man, though. I see it every day I work with you. It’s half the reason I didn’t want you to know about me fucking up my dad’s company.”

“Even the strongest person has a painful past,” I said, repeating a quote that rang too true about me.

“Now that we got the headbutting out of the way,” she smiled, and I could tell she was over my sudden shitty mood. “I have to say that I admire the way you think. The fact that you’ve had your feet held to the fire, and you’re one badass mother-fucker in business is impressive,” she said in some funny way that could only make me smile.

“Well, I’m happy you feel that way,” I said. “Now, since I’ve confessed more than I should have, allow me to help you keep your condo and get you back on your feet again.”

“I want you to explain why you care enough to help.”

“I have my reasons, and those will stay with me. I’ve met your father, and I know it’s the right thing to do.”

Her face grew solemn, and she sighed. “I think we’ve both had our fair share of talking about things that are upsetting. Seriously, I think I’m done for the night.”

“Hey,” I touched her chin and brought her sad eyes to meet mine, “I brought you here to take care of you and help you out. Sending you off to bed alone wouldn’t be my idea of helping you. Why don’t we jump in the pool or something? I’ll pour us some more drinks, and we can kick back and talk about dolphins or something.”

She grinned. “Why don’t we…”

I watched her tap her fingernail to her teeth, and the most daring smile reached her eyes. Whatever she was thinking, I wanted to be a part of it. This was the side of the woman I wanted to meet; the feisty, mischievous woman who seemed to be in there hiding behind the dimples I adored so much.

“Have sex?” Why not take a stab at that one?

“My girlfriends and I used to run into the surf late at night. It was exhilarating.”

“I have wetsuits.”

“Nah,” she grinned. “You’ve got to do it in your clothes like a thrill seeker.”

“You’ve lost your goddamn mind.”

She chuckled. “Let’s do it! If we’re going to see if we’re compatible with each—”

“Bull-fucking-shit, and I’m serious. I only go in that ocean at night when my friends have begged me to go night surfing or if I’m drunk.”

“And here I thought we had a connection.”

“From the flying fucking monkeys, or the fact that I’m not the dick you thought I was?”

“Both.” She giggled. “You can be a chicken shit and stay here, but I’m taking a quick dip.”

“Says the chick who died in Jaws,” I smirked.

“And he doesn’t like scary movies.” She pulled off her top, revealing her perfect breasts displayed nicely in her white lace bra. “Another fun fact about my kind business partner.”

“I never said any of that.”

“Then get your ass in the water with me, and then we’ll relax with a drink in your enticing spa. I need to cut loose, and that ice-cold ocean is calling my name.”

“I think a goddamn great white shark is hunting the surf, and that thing is calling your name.”

She grabbed a beach towel from the holder next to the gate that led out to the shoreline. Who the hell was I kidding? This was crazy as hell, yet I craved to be out doing something wild. I was done asking myself what the fuck was happening, and I was ready to start saying why the fuck not?