Page 3 of Spring Break with a Billionaire

This is exactly how I plan to spend my week—calm, content, and utterly carefree.

Yet as Abby and I wander hand in hand through the streets, laughing at the silly signs and soaking up the warmth, I can’t help feeling an inexplicable tug of anticipation.

This week, I remind myself firmly that, is just for relaxation, but even as I say it to myself again, a tiny, rebellious voice whispers a challenge in the back of my mind:We’ll see about that.

Two

Chapter Two

Cricket

The fading afternoon sunlight bathes everything in a golden haze, casting long shadows across the sand. Soft music drifts through the air, mingling with laughter and the gentle murmur of conversation as Abby and I approach the beach gathering our new friend, Natalie, invited us to after we met while getting iced coffee. Warm tiki torches line the perimeter, flickering in rhythm with the ocean breeze, lending the scene a cozy intimacy.

“You think we’re underdressed?” Abby whispers, glancing down at our casual sundresses.

“Absolutely not.” I nudge her shoulder, smiling reassuringly. “Natalie said it was casual, and she didn’t seem the type to exaggerate.”

“True.” Abby grins, her confidence restored. “Besides, we look cute.”

“Damn right we do.” We both laugh, nerves fading as Natalie waves us over, her welcoming smile radiant even from a distance.

“I’m so glad you two came!” Natalie hugs me warmly, her embrace sincere. In the short time since we’d met earlier, it already feels like we’ve known her for ages.

“You’ve got a perfect night for this,” I say, glancing around at the relaxed group spread across the sand. Some guests cluster around the fire pit, roasting marshmallows, while others lounge on blankets near a long, rustic table piled high with appetizers and cold drinks. Everything feels easy, laid-back, just like Natalie herself.

“Let me introduce you around,” Natalie says cheerfully. “Luke’s down by the fire—he’ll be thrilled you made it.”

Abby nudges me softly, whispering under her breath, “This is exactly the kind of thing we swore we’d avoid.”

I roll my eyes playfully. “It’s just a casual beach party. No romance involved.”

“Uh-huh,” she teases gently. “There are those famous last words again.”

We trail Natalie down toward the fire pit, the sand warm beneath my bare feet. Natalie calls out to her husband, Luke, and he waves back. Beside him, a tall, silver-haired man stands sipping casually from a bottle of beer, eyes scanning the horizon thoughtfully. When his gaze finally lands on us, it holds for a beat longer than necessary, sending an unexpected ripple of warmth through me.

“Luke, this is Cricket and Abby,” Natalie introduces warmly, smiling up at her husband with obvious affection. “Our new friends are renting the cottage down the beach.”

“Great to meet you both,” Luke says, shaking our hands firmly. “Welcome to Love Beach.”

“Nice to meet you, too.” Abby grins broadly, clearly charmed by his relaxed confidence.

Luke gestures to the older man beside him. “And this is Cameron Shaw—Natalie’s dad.”

My surprise must show on my face, because Cameron chuckles softly, extending his hand to me with a wry smile. “I hope that’s a good shock, not a bad one.”

“Good,” I assure him, feeling oddly flustered by his presence. He’s tall, solidly built, his handsome face framed by neatly trimmed silver hair. He has the kind of distinguished look that speaks volumes about experience and authority, yet there’s a relaxed ease about him that makes me instantly comfortable.

I shake his hand gently, startled by the spark of electricity at the simple contact. My gaze locks onto his, noticing how clear and deep his eyes are, a striking shade of ocean blue.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Cameron,” I manage, suddenly aware of how dry my throat has become. “Natalie didn’t mention her dad was visiting.”

Cameron laughs warmly, the sound rich and inviting. “Probably because she didn’t want to scare off her new friends.”

Natalie playfully elbows him. “Be nice, Dad. Or no marshmallows for you.”

He holds up his hands in mock surrender. “Forgive me.”

“Only if you roast my marshmallow perfectly.” She points dramatically at the fire. “Golden brown, no black bits.”

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