Page 8 of Only for the Season

“What questions?”

He scowls. “Jeremy, what are you doing on Smuggler’s Hideaway?”

“I’m here to celebrate Thanksgiving with your family.”

“One, you hate celebrating holidays with family. You prefer to pick up a supermodel and spend the weekend between the sheets. Two, you hate small towns. I believe you refer to them as ‘Podunk’.”

I can’t contradict him since he’s right. I do hate celebrating holidays with my family. I swallow the growl trying to emerge at the thought of my so-called family.

But I’m done with supermodels. They’re clingy and only want one thing. My money. I want someone to want me for me. Not because of how many zeroes are in my bank account. But I’ve given up on that particular dream.

What about Parker? She didn’t care about your money. She also doesn’t know who I am. Everything changes once women know my name.

“Jeremy,” Eli pushes.

I clear my throat and push all my thoughts away. “I needed a break from California.”

His eyes narrow. “And why did you need a break?”

I shrug. “Just tired of all the California bullshit.”

“You always were a crappy liar.”

I glare at him. “I am not a crappy liar.”

“You scratch your neck when you lie.”

“I do not…” Damn. I am scratching my neck. I drop my hand. “Whatever.”

“Tell me what’s going on. Paisley says I’m a great listener.”

“Paisley never said you were a great listener.”

The door to the kitchen flies open and Paisley rushes in, cradling a baby. “I never said what?”

“You had to marry a woman with the hearing of a bat,” I mutter.

“One, we’re not married. And, two, bats cannot hear the best of all animals. The greater wax moth can. And, three, what were you discussing?”

Eli stands and takes the baby from Paisley. The love on his face has my stomach souring. I want a family. People who will love me for who I am. But experience has taught me the truth. People don’t love you for who you are when you’re a billionaire.

Eli found a unicorn in Paisley. The chances of me finding another unicorn are nearly non-existent.

“We were discussing work,” Eli says to Paisley before kissing her forehead.

“Which is code for ‘it’s none of my business’. Fine, I’ll drop it.” Yep, Paisley is a unicorn. Any other woman would pry and pry.

Paisley digs around in the back of the refrigerator before pulling out a bottle. “You’re feeding Stephanie this morning. I need to cook and get the house ready.”

Eli scowls. “I told you to have the food catered.”

Paisley’s lips purse. “I am not having the food catered at the first Thanksgiving we host.”

“It’s too much for you.”

Paisley slams the bottle on the counter before turning to Eli and spitting daggers out of her eyes at him. Uh oh. This is my cue to exit the kitchen.

I shut my computer and gather my things. But before I can pick everything up, Eli shoves the baby at me.