Billionaires Dollar Series

“Yes. I’m sorry to just come knocking like this. I moved in just yesterday, and I-”

“I know. I saw you unpacking.” The lady waves me into the hallway. “Welcome to the neighborhood.”

“Thank you,” I say, a sigh of relief escaping me. “It’s a beautiful place.”

“It really is. I’m Maria,” she says, “and I work for Mr. Carter. He’ll be with you in just a bit.”

“Here he is!” The voice is rich, expansive. It fits perfectly with the man I’d seen the picture of just a few hours ago. He comes striding down the hallway.

The years since I’d sat in the lecture hall and listened to him speak have made him even more impressive, the soft fabric of his sweater clinging to a wider chest.

And his smile.

It’s there, lurking at the edge of his mouth and playing in the depths of intelligent eyes. Yes, he remembers me. The topless girl next door. To my horror, my cheeks heat up.

“Mr. Carter,” Maria says. “This is the girl you told me to let in.”

“Bella Simmons,” I say, extending a hand and trying not to drop the giant plate of brownies. Why had I decided to bring so many? It looks like I’m supplying a bakery.

“Ethan Carter.” He gives my hand a firm shake, his skin warm. “Welcome to the neighborhood.”NôvelDrama.Org (C) content.

“Thank you,” I breathe, relief sweeping through me. “I’ll be honest, I wasn’t sure if this was common practice here. Saying hi to your neighbors when you’re new and all. I’m sorry if I’ve just committed an unspeakable faux pas.”

His eyes flick down to the plate in my arms. “We usually execute people on sight for this, but you brought brownies, so I’ll make an exception.”

If I wasn’t still so nervous, I’d be laughing at that. “Consider it a peace offering, then.”

“Getting heavy?” He reaches out and takes the plate from me.

“A bit. Thank you.”

“Although I suppose I should be the one with a peace offering.” Holding the plate in one arm, Ethan reaches up and runs a hand through his hair. The smile lurking on his lips is more pronounced now. “I hope you know I wasn’t in that tree to spy on you.”

My cheeks flare up. “Right. I didn’t think you were. I mean, you had a measuring tape.”

“Flimsy evidence, but I’m glad you believe me.” His smile is wide now. “I was location scouting for a treehouse.”

“Really? That’s lovely.”

“I’m glad you think that. I’m not sure what your-parents? Aunt and uncle?-will think when they get back. It’ll overlook their property.”

My response slips out before I can stop it. Caught in his gaze, soothed by the deep tenor of his voice, there’s no way I can tell this multi-billionaire that I’m a homeless house-sitter. “Aunt and uncle,” I say. “I’m watching the house for them this summer. Three months.”

“That’s very nice of you,” he comments.

“Well, it’s a very nice house.”

Ethan’s grin widens. “Good point.”

Up close, he’s somehow more imposing at the same time as he’s less so. He’s flesh and blood, tanned skin and curving lips and smile lines around his eyes. But he’s also clearly a man, one who wears cologne and a twenty-thousand-dollar watch and manages a billion-dollar business.

“So,” he says, snapping me out of my admiration, “do you work around here? Or do you-”

A childish shriek sounds somewhere in the background. It echoes down the hall to us, followed by padding feet and Maria’s low voice. Somewhere in the house, a door slams.

Ethan sighs. “I’d better go. My oldest just learned how to dramatically shut doors from some TV show.”

“Ouch,” I say.

“Yes. I’d have a choice word with the writer of that kids’ show if I could.”

I head back to the front door, unable to let him go yet. “Kids, huh? That’s who the treehouse is for?”

The ever-lurking smile breaks out, spreading across his features. It transforms him. He’s welcoming and strong and why had I been nervous for this?

“Yes,” he says. “I’m not planning on building one for myself, Bella.”

“Oh, thank God,” I say, the teasing words escaping me. “That would have made you seem like a professional peeper.”

“Thankfully not a profession I’ve ever wanted to pursue.”

Another shriek echoes down the hallway, and he looks over his shoulder. I open the front door and step outside. “Sorry, I’ll leave. See you around, and thank you.”

His smile is indulgent now. Am I rambling? “Bye, Bella,” he says, the deep voice washing over me. “Thank you for the brownies.”

I make it back to my giant house in an awestruck daze. Toast meows for food at my feet. “Yes,” I tell him. “Right. We have a job to do here.”

And I do. House-sit. Make money. Finish PhD thesis. Figure out my future.

Developing a pointless crush on my no-doubts-already-taken neighbor is nowhere on that list.

Ethan

“There’s no way,” Cole says. “No way at all. You have the time to get out there. You have a nanny, right?”

“Yes,” I say, looking at my friend over the rim of my whiskey glass. For Cole Porter, who has a three-month-old infant, a nanny likely seems like the perfect solution. But when your kids are six and three, they need a bit more interaction.

“So use her,” he insists. “You need to get out there. Life shouldn’t be lived alone, man.”

“Mhm,” I say. “And this is coming from happily-married and soon-to-be-married over there?”

Nick grimaces at that. The man is a renowned commitment-phobe, but over the last couple of months he’s settled into an unconventional relationship with Cole’s little sister. Unconventional in that it’s a relationship, period-and for Nicholas Park, that’s a big thing.

“You don’t have to find someone to marry,” Nick says. “Hell, can you even have one-night stands as a single dad?”

I scowl into my drink. They mean well, but we’re getting into territory I don’t like to discuss. “You can,” I say. “At out-of-town conferences.”

“How emotionally fulfilling,” Cole remarks.