Page 24 of Old Money

I think for a minute, confused.

“But I wasn’t—oh,” I say. He chuckles on the other end of the line as that same white-hot heat rushes between my legs.

“Wear whatever you want. It’s just you and me,” he says. “See you soon.”

Fuckkkk.Why does he do this?

And why does my body react this way?

As much as I probably should have said no to this excursion, I also am telling myself that I need to be with him again to get a temperature on things. If he was serious about never fucking me, then I need to take this “relationship” for what it is: a much older man who happens to be in the top one percent of the entire fucking world, who saved me from a mass shooting and occasionally checks in with my mom. Totally normal.

I decide on an old Carrington hoodie, my old Nikes, and a pair of jeans. And before I know it, there’s a knock on my door. I take a breath as I grab my bag and walk to the door. When I open it, the breath rushes from my lungs at the sight of him, his dark hair waving just right, his ripped arm muscles bulging out of the long-sleeved tee he has on. He doesn’t look like a billionaire. He looks like…I don’t know…someone I want to fuck.

Fuck.

“Morning, sunshine,” he says with a killer smile. I flash a quick one back and brush by him.

“Morning,” I say, slamming the door shut behind him.

“Whoa,” he says with a little giggle, but when I don’t turn around, he snags my arm. “What’s going on?”

I sigh. He called me. He arranged this. He’s taking me somewhere, and he gave me a fuckinghome.I force a smile.

“Nothing,” I say. “Just…missing my mom. Sorry.” He smiles and pulls me in for a hug. Then he takes my hand and leads me down the stairs and to the Escalade. Russ lets us in, then we’re off.

“So, are you gonna tell me yet?” I ask as we pull out of my neighborhood.

He smiles.

“Mighty impatient, aren’t we?” he asks. I smile and shrug.You have no idea.“Have you ever heard of Bedell House?”

I look up at him.

“Like the mansion?” I ask. He smirks. “Oh, yeah! I totally forgot you guys owned that. Is that where we’re going?”

He nods.

“They start putting up all the Christmas decorations today before they open to the public for holiday tours tomorrow. I thought you’d like a sneak peek. And maybe a personal tour.”

I smile and nod.

“I’d love that,” I say. “I’ve never been.”

Thirty or so minutes later, we pull up to a huge iron gate with a screen and buttons. Russ types in a code then places his hand on some sort of scanner that then opens the gate. He drives through, and I see nothing but sprawling, grassy hills and the tree-lined driveway in front of us.

As we get farther up the road, I see a huge parking lot on either side of the drive and signs that readPublic and Tour Parking. Then farther up, we come to the crest of a hill, and you can see everything: the whole manor, the rocks, the ocean, the private beaches.

My jaw drops as Russ pulls us farther down the drive to the huge circle at the front. As he opens my door, I’m still in awe, staring up at the old-school architecture.

Let’s call Bedell House what it is: a palace. It has wing after wing, story after story of brick and stone with ivy climbing up its walls as if to lead my eyes where to look next. There are towers that perk up above the rest of the house with balconies that face the water and massive floor-to-ceiling windows that seem to cover the entire first level.

“Think my great-grandfather was overcompensating for something?” Julian says from next to me, snapping me out of my daydream. I laugh and shake my head.

“This is amazing,” I say. He nods then takes a few steps up, reaching his hand out to me.

“Wait till you see the inside,” he says, and I smile and take his hand. I follow him up the rest of the massive stone staircase, and huge doors open up as we approach them. I jump back, and he laughs.

“We had the sensors installed a few years ago,” he says. We walk into the huge entryway, and I realize we’re still holding hands. I am conscious of it, but I don’t make a move to pull away, and I’m hoping he doesn’t either. In the center of the foyer is what looks to be a thirty- or forty-foot Christmas tree. There are people all around it on ladders, decorating it.

---