Page 15 of Dr. Stone (Billionaires’ Club #9)

FOURTEEN

Andie

Today was a much-needed, slow-paced day at the gallery.

I’d been up all night with Brandon, who was cutting his molars and spiking a high fever.

He barely slept, which meant I barely slept—maybe an hour or two, if that.

At least my poor boy could get to nap at Julia’s today while I dragged myself through the day, still praying my last two cups of coffee would finally kick in just in case a client walked in, and I had to flip on the sales switch.

“All right, I’m heading out for the day,” Ash said, leaving her painting studio.

I smiled, grabbed a Kleenex tissue off my desk, and used it to gently remove a brush stroke of tan paint that must’ve gotten away from her while she worked on her latest masterpiece.

“There, got it,” I chuckled, balling the tissue into my fist. “Did you and the paintbrush get into an argument again?”

“Always,” she beamed. “I know you hardly slept last night, so if nobody comes in within the hour, just close early. I’m sorry I need to leave early today, but the kids have dentist appointments.”

“I’ll be fine. If I go home now, I’m just going to go to bed for the rest of the day, and that would suck.”

“I remember those nights. They always seemed to happen when Jake was on-call at the hospital,” she said while she shouldered her purse.

“Which reminds me,” I said. “After I came down from my ego-boost the other day at the beach?—”

“Don’t tell me that you went home and overthought everything?” she said, bummed as if someone had told her that her favorite reality television show was just canceled.

“It’s not that I’m going to reject the idea of whatever those two men are up to, but I’m just having a hard time with the idea of dating two men at once.

” I shook my head, feeling like an idiot.

“I shouldn’t be talking like I’ve already been asked out by both of them already, but you know what I mean, right? ”

“I understand, but just think of it as something fun and exciting to do whenever it happens,” she answered.

“It’s easy for you and Avery to encourage me because you’re both safe and sound in loving marriages.” I folded my arms and smiled at her, “As I said, I’m not going to reject it, but I’m also not going to be the billionaire boys’ play toy, if you know what I mean.”

She grinned, “If there’s one thing I know about you, it’s that. I suppose that’s why I find it so amusing. With the fiery personality you’ve had since that night on the yacht, Jace and Titus will be shocked when they throw their egos out there for you to play with.”

I rolled my eyes, “What happened to the Ash who was terrified to see me walk off with Jace? That Ash didn’t want me to get hurt, you know?”

“She watched you transform into a firecracker who is full of life. So, I say have fun with it. I would’ve told Jake to back his friend off if I thought you’d get hurt.

Instead, I see two men absolutely fascinated by the mere memory of being in your presence, and I love that for you.

Keep it casual if you’re worried about getting hurt, sweetie. ”

“I’ve just never experienced something like this before, and I don’t know how to navigate it.”

I stopped myself. I sounded like a fool, rambling on about this again.

“We should’ve never told you and just let it all happen naturally,” Ash said.

“Just take your knowledge and use it as a weapon to stay ahead of them. If Jace asks you out on a night that Titus has already beaten him to it, decide who you’d rather hang out with that night.

Like a normal person who isn’t committed to anyone. ”

“It just feels wrong.”

“It feels wrong because you were committed to one man in a serious relationship for a long time. Now, you are as free as a bird with two handsome men who will be vying for your attention. Run with this and have a little fun with it. That’s all Avery and I were saying.”

“I guess so,” I relaxed a little more. “I suppose I’ve been making myself feel like the star of the next season of The Bachelorette.”

“I had a feeling you would go home and overthink everything,” Ash said. “Just remember that no one is forcing you to go make out with Jace at lunch, then lock lips with Titus at dinner.”

“All right,” I said. “Now, get out of here, or you’re going to be late for your appointments for the kids.”

“Like I said, close up early if you’d like.”

I raised my coffee mug to her. “On my fifth cup now and already feeling better,” I smiled.

Ash breezed out of the gallery, and an hour later, as I adjusted the lighting above the new coastal exhibit, I heard the soft chime of the front door, followed by a low, familiar voice that made my stomach tighten in response.

I glanced over my shoulder, and there he was—my one night of utter satisfaction and the first contestant on my personal show, The Billionaires’ Bachelorette.

I had to clear my thoughts and steady myself. I watched him walk in, wearing a tailored suit, no tie, and top button undone like he’d just left surgery and seduced someone in the hallway.

Unfortunately, I knew from experience that wasn’t a stretch. Our eyes locked, and instead of having all the weird feelings I’d had about him since I was told he had some interest in me, I felt the opposite.

His blue eyes locked on mine—clear, steady, and so quietly intense they felt less like a gaze and more like gravity pulling me back to that night as I watched him come deep?—

Fucking stop it. Now’s not the time to think about that, I thought, snapping out of it and pulling down the front of my blazer before I approached him.

“It’s been a minute,” he said in his casual and cocky tone that I remembered from our night together.

“It’s been a bit longer than that,” I chuckled.

“I must say I’m quite shocked to see you here.

I wonder what it is with you billionaire types buying art suddenly?

Are you trying to redecorate your egos?” I said, folding my arms together and arching an eyebrow at how he so confidently walked in here, unaware I knew why he’d come.

His mouth curved, slow and amused. “No ego redecorating today, thanks,” he said, looking around the place as if he owned it. “Jake Mitchell told me his wife painted something here that reminded him of my sailboat. He said I should check it out.”

Ah, okay. Jake was already on Team Jace. Well, this should be interesting.

I led him toward the back of the gallery. “You’re not the first man with a yacht and a perfectly timed art purchase. Titus Hawk was in here last week doing the same thing you’re doing now.”

“Yeah?” he asked, too lightly.

“Instead of a boat canvas, he picked a sunset. Said it reminded him of something worth remembering.”

Jace’s jaw ticked. It was subtle, but it was enough. It was adorable.

I eyed him. “You strike me as more storm than sunset,” I added.

We stopped in front of Ash’s recent piece—a single sailboat knifing through a moody, churning ocean. Beautiful and unsettling, like it didn’t belong but refused to leave.

“Ash painted this one right after she and Jake were married, and since Jake referred you, perhaps you should consider a piece that represents your good friend as well.”

“I just might have to do that,” he said quietly.

I watched his demeanor change as he became absorbed in the painting.

“Damn, Ash is a phenomenal artist,” he said. “This painting pulls you into every emotion about being on a sailboat and how it feels while sailing. But not the calm way, you know? Not the picture-perfect way.”

“Oh?” I said, studying him.

He stood there, gripped by the painting, his jaw tight and hands in his pockets as if he were holding something back. The assumptions I’d made about him coming in to hit on me like Titus had begun to fade, and in their place was a quiet curiosity about this man.

A kind of appreciation, maybe. The kind that comes when you realize someone might understand a part of you. He seemed to know about sailing, more than just buzzwords to sound cool, and for someone like me, who’d grown up on boats instead of playgrounds, that meant something.

“Yeah,” he continued. “Everything about this painting speaks my language and captures my style.”

I grinned. “How so? I’m curious…”

His eyes darkened to match the stormy sea in the painting as his gaze held me.

“It’s raw and alive.” Looking back at the painting, he said, “And these days, barely in control.” He chuckled as he looked back at me and locked eyes with mine, “Sailing on unpredictable waters, such as that boat is, I feel the tension in my body, leaning into the gust utterly terrified but loving it, feeling both resistance and surrender simultaneously.”

I didn’t know what to do with that. So, I thought we should probably keep it light.

“You sail?”

“I certainly hope so since I have the damn boat in my marina,” he chuckled, the intensity of his stare becoming lighter.

“Is this something you picked up in college, Dr. Stone?” I teased.

“Cute, but no. I’ve been sailing since I was a teenager. It’s the only place I don’t feel like I’m performing.”

I glanced at the canvas. “The trim’s loose on that sailboat. Whoever’s on that boat didn’t read the wind right, so I doubt that person would feel like you do when you look at the painting.”

He turned to me, brow raised. “That’s an interesting catch. I didn’t take you for a critic of boat dynamics.”

I smiled. “Well, we had a rule not to talk about anything personal that night, remember?”

His smile faltered, but not in a bad way, more like he suddenly realized there was more to the girl he thought he’d already figured out.

“I remember everything about that night,” he said, more direct and in charge of where he and I would go next.

“Forgive me for being forward, but you’ve fascinated me once again,” he smirked his cocky and sexy grin, “and since you’re a woman who knows her sailboats, I’d love to bring you out on mine. ”

“Is that so?”

He stepped forward, and I fell under the spell of his fine cologne, ocean-blue eyes, and the memory of how effortlessly he’d brought out the best in me in the bedroom.

Honestly, there wasn’t a day that had gone by that I’d forgotten his skill with my body. This encounter was something I’d fantasized about more than once—us meeting at random, taking another night for ourselves, and indulging in something we should never have to finish.

“I have no idea what the hell you did to me that night,” he said.

“I swear to God, I thought I would’ve forgotten all about you by now.

” His eyes studied mine, lips just a breath away, “Let me take you out again. Let me take you on the boat. I want to know more about this woman who’s captured my mind and won’t allow me to have thoughts without her in them these days. ”

If I wasn’t so caught up in this moment—every passionate cell in my body alight, my skin practically on fire as if he were already touching me, kissing me, fucking me all over again—I might’ve been intimidated by how close he suddenly was.

But the strangest part was the pull inside me. It was an invisible force keeping me rooted here, unable to move or resist him despite convincing myself the past few nights that I’d shut him down the second he tried to compete with another man for my attention—or whatever he thought he was doing.

“You feel it too, don’t you?” he questioned with a tone that seemed he was looking for answers.

“Maybe we’re just remembering how amazing that night was?”

He smiled that damn wolf grin because he knew I was lying. Hell yeah, I felt this shit. I felt like our bodies were made of magnetic bolts of energy, undeniably drawn to each other, and from his question, he must’ve felt the same.

“I’ll go, but if you want to do the personal shit, too, getting into our real lives, then there will be no fucking,” I said.

He arched an eyebrow. “Something tells me that neither you nor I could resist that...not with what we’re feeling right now.

” Then, he paused, leaned in, and gently kissed my cheek before stepping back with a smile.

“Have Ash charge my card for the painting,” he said, turning to leave.

“I’ll get your number from Jake. I’ve got dinner at my parents’ place tonight, and I’ve already taken up too much of your time. ”

I stood there, watching him breeze out of the gallery like some scene out of a storybook.

He didn’t look back, but it didn’t feel dramatic.

It felt necessary like he needed to compose himself just as much as I did.

I swear there was still electricity crackling in the air between us, the kind of spark that makes your skin remember, your body ache and your mind wander to all the possibilities.

If he couldn’t forget our night, and I couldn’t either, then maybe this was more than a couple of men fighting for my attention. Perhaps this was the beginning of something I wasn’t ready for.