Billionaires Dollar Series

“Hmm. That’s true, buddy. But we’re definitely better friends than dolphins and whales.”

He nods, returning to his homework, like my answer explains everything.NôvelDrama.Org owns this text.

Maybe it does, and maybe it’s not particularly complicated. But at the same time, Isla’s been getting on my nerves in a way she never used to. Just tonight, she’d ignored me when I’d said I’m busy tonight, guilt-tripping me into changing plans to look after Timmy. It hadn’t been big plans-yoga, dinner, calling Cole again-but I’d looked forward to it.

Just thinking it feels traitorous. I love having Timmy around. His shoulders bent over his homework, the vulnerable nape of his neck, the cheerful whistling… he’s the best nephew I could ask for.

But would it hurt Isla to plan ahead for once in her life? Sometimes, I’d appreciate more than a few hours’ warning. And Timmy deserves far better.

Not that she gets that. Where reason is concerned, my sister has always had a mind like a colander. She hears what she wants to hear and siphons off the rest.

Timmy leans back, ink on his fingers. “Did you know that sea turtles can live to be a hundred?”

“They can? That’s impressive!”

“And so old!” He flips a page in his book, and even from this distance I can see the outsized drawings of orcas on the page. “Have you ever been to the aquarium?”

“Yeah, but it was a long time ago. Do you want to go?”

“Can we?”

“Of course. I’ll talk to your mom and figure out a good time. Maybe this weekend?”

His smile is massive. “You’re the best.”

“No, you are.” I walk around to the reading room table and ruffle his unruly hair. Freckles dance across the bridge of his nose. “I’m almost done with closing up, and then we’ll head home. Do you want to make homemade pizza for dinner? I have dough in the fridge.”

“Yes, let me just finish my homework first.” His voice is so serious that I have to bite my lip to stop a smile.

“Of course, sweetheart. Take as long as you need.” He turns back to the page, and I smile all the way to the cash register. Isla’s son, the picture of studious. I might not see eye to eye with my sister, but we both think Timmy’s the best kid around-and we’re both right about that.

I wipe down the counter with a wet rag. There’s not a customer in the store, but that’s not unusual for a Tuesday evening. Besides, customers have been filtering in and out all day-and our sales are definitely on the rise. The thought makes me whistle, too.

But then the door opens, the bell sounding, and there he is. Without warning or prior notice-a day before his trip was supposed to end.

Cole’s eyes find mine right away. They’re blazing with purpose, his suit jacket stretched taut over wide shoulders. No tie. Undone top button. The determined lines on his face hit me with force and all I can do is stare.

He crosses the distance between us in long strides. “Did you get my delivery?”

“Yes. But-”

He bends me back with the force of his kiss. It’s demanding, lips moving across mine with a clear message. We’re finishing what we started when you called me in the tub. And then, when his tongue slips inside, something far filthier. We’re using that vibrator.

Or maybe that’s just my mind.

I push him back, breathless. “Cole-”

“I came back early.”

“Welcome back.” My eyes flit to the reading room. “We’re not alone.”

He leans back, his arm dropping from my shoulders to my waist. “Karli?”

Timmy peers at us through the cased opening, a smile on his face. He ducks his head as soon as he sees us looking.

“Hi again, kid!” Cole calls loudly. “Sorry to interrupt your time alone with your aunt.”

“That’s okay!” Timmy calls back. I extricate myself from Cole’s arm. How will I explain this? Not to mention to my sister, when he inevitably tells her about it?

Cole must have read this and more on my face, because he shoots me a smile. “Don’t worry,” he says under his breath. “We’ll handle it.”

“Okay. Yeah.”

“You need to close up the store?”

Timmy has closed his book-homework forgotten, apparently-and is leaning against one of the fantasy bookshelves. “You know a lot about baseball,” he tells Cole, without a shred of the shyness he usually shows around strangers.

Right. They’ve met before. I release the breath I’ve been holding and force my shoulders to relax. Beside me, Cole is the picture of ease.

“A fair bit, yeah.”

“There are tryouts at my school,” Timmy volunteers. “Later this year, I mean.”

I blink at him. “You’re going to join the team? That’s awesome!”

He shoots me an exasperated you-wouldn’t-get-it look, coupled with an eye-roll that says I’m being embarrassing. All of a sudden he’s ten going on fifteen, teenager savvy and all.

Cole nods knowingly. “Tryouts are scary,” he says. “I get it.”

“I’ve had to do a bunch of them.”

“You have?” Timmy takes a step forward, his hand itching at his side. He’s started writing up anything he considers important lately.

“Yes, for the swim team. It’s not the same sport, but I can give you some pointers.”

Timmy nods enthusiastically, pointing to the reading room table. “Let’s sit,” he says, like they’re about to have a meeting.

Cole shoots me a crooked what-can-I-do kind of smile. “Is that okay?”

“Yes. Yes, absolutely,” I say. His charm is irresistible, it seems, both to ten-year-old boys and their old-enough-to-know-better aunts.

I close and lock the register. I turn off the lights upstairs, and double-check the back entrance through the storage room. And all the while I listen to snippets of their conversation, Cole asking Timmy if he’s played before, if he has a good baseball racket to practice with.

Something about it strikes me as a distinctly masculine conversation. Peering around the corner at them, Timmy is wide-eyed and enthusiastic, watching Cole as he explains something that is beyond me. Coach. Pitch. Angle. Bracing a strong hand on his thigh, he’s the picture of male vitality. It’s something neither Isla nor I can provide.

By the time I’m finished, they’re still deep in conversation. Timmy has half a page filled with notes. I lean against the cased opening. “Hey, guys. Ready to head out, Timmy?”

The grin he aims my way is blinding. “Cole said he’d take us to a baseball game! To see the Mariners!”