Mountain Billionaire Page 2

  He wanted all that shit.

  All I wanted, however, was to be left alone.

  “A beer and a regular martini, please,” Caden said.

  “I don’t know how you drink gin.”

  “It tastes phenomenal,” he said.

  “It tastes like pine needles. And olives are gross.”

  “You’re gross. Drink your beer, and be happy I’m paying.”

  “You don’t have to pay. I’ve got money of my own.”

  “I’m sure you’ve got lots of it since you never spend it,” he said. “Are you still living in that falling apart cabin of yours?”

  “Yep, and it’s treating me just fine,” I said.

  I preferred the fucking term “rustic.”

  “You know it’s way out there in the mountains where no woman would ever want to live?”

  “Good thing I’m not looking for a woman to live with me, like you are,” I said.

  “I don’t want a woman to live with me. But I do want to make sure I tailor my life to suit that type of lifestyle in the future. When are you going to start thinking about settling down and starting a family?”

  “Never, because that’s not what I want.”

  “Oh, come on. You’re quiet, but you have yourself a decent amount of experience with women. I’m sure any girl would be lucky to snag you.”

  “I’m not a family man, okay?”

  “You know you won’t be like your old man, right?” he asked.

  “Bring him up one more time and this bottle won’t make it in the trash can in one piece.”

  “Is that a threat that you’ll beat me with it?” he asked.

  No shit, Sherlock. I clenched my jaw and stayed silent as I drew a deep breath through my nose.

  “Don’t let your old man take that shit from you. If you don’t want a family, then don’t have one. But if your reasoning for not having a family is because you think you’ll be like him, then he’s winning.”

  “Whatever,” I said.

  “Another beer for my friend, please,” Caden called out to the bartender.

  I took the opened beer and threw it back faster than I’d intended. The last thing I wanted to talk about was my father. That abusive fuck could stay in my past for all I cared. I didn’t need a damn thing from him, nor did I need anything in my life making him think he could wiggle his way back in. Like a wife or a child that made him think we could all be one big happy fucking family.

  “You know what I think the perfect business for us would be?” Caden asked.

  “What?”

  “Photography.”

  “I really hate you sometimes,” I said.

  “Just hear me out. I’ve got a little bit of an artistic streak and you’re a nature person, right? I mean, your haunted warehouse apartment thing has a waterfront view. You gotta be a nature person to like that, right?”

  “I rent the place because it’s cheap,” I said.

  “And has no central air, but I digress. Photography or something like that. I could take pictures.

  You could fix shit that broke. I could deal with the customers, and you could pick out the venues. It would be perfect. You wouldn’t have to interact with people, and we could split shit fifty-fifty.”

  “Now you just gotta learn everything there is to know about photography,” I said.

  “Did someone say photography?”

  I turned my head to find where in the world that sultry voice came from. There was a woman taking a seat next to me. Her fiery red hair bobbed just at her chin. She had slim features and perfect little handfuls of tits sitting right there on her chest. She had them shoved up underneath her chin while a belt cinched her waist.

  She was too skinny for my tastes, but she was looking at me like she was trying not to drool. I figured she would do, for tonight. Which was the only future I ever thought about with any woman.

  “Caden Griffin. This is my friend, Zach Harte.”

  “Well, Zach Harte. I was standing over there admiring your tattoos, and I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation.”

  “You a photographer?” I asked.

  “I am. It’s a side gig.”

  “What do you do for a living?” Caden asked.

  “I’m a teacher,” she said.

  “If I had a teacher that looked like you growing up, I would’ve been in trouble,” I said, just to lay my flirting on really thick.

  Her giggle was low and rich. Like hot caramel being poured over a freshly-baked cake.

  “What does this tattoo represent?” she asked.

  Her fingertips were soft on my skin, and I knew she’d be the woman to keep me company tonight.

  Well, for the majority of the night anyway.

  “It’s a phoenix rising from its ashes,” I said. “I got it just after I graduated high school.”

  “Ah, signaling a new beginning in life,” she said. “And what about this one?”

  I walked her through the tattoos on my arms one by one. The strokes of her fingertips became longer and more languid, and soon, her whole hand was wrapped around my forearm. She had deep, dark brown eyes that were pulling me in, and I could see her lips dancing from my eyes to my lips.

  I slammed down more of my alcohol and the more I drank, the better looking she became. I leaned in close and gave her a grin, waiting for her to close the gap between the two of us.

  If she did, she was mine.

  And her lips felt wonderfully soft against mine.

  “Wanna get out of here?” I asked. “My cabin is near the waterfall. There’s a little hike to get there so we should go before dark.”

  “Oh, what a beautiful view that must be,” she said. “I’d love to… take it in.”

  My cock jumped at her words as I helped her slide off her stool.

  She would be decent company for a majority of the night, but she’d be gone before the morning sun rose. No company I kept at night like this ever stayed overnight. Women read way too much into things and got the wrong impression that way.

  If I kicked her out in the middle of the night, she knew she was a one-night stand. I didn’t have to be rude about it, but I did have to be stern sometimes. If women stayed until the morning, they got ideas about making breakfast, and soon, they were showing up at random points, asking me if I was free, and it just became a complicated mess.

  Yep. This woman, whose name I wouldn’t remember, would do just fine for some company.

  Until one in the morning, at least.

  Chapter 3

  Paige

  “Hello there, sexy! I bring lunch.”

  Kami grinned at the bag in my hand. “Oh, you sweet little lifesaver, you. Thank you so much. And you went to the Sub Palace! Bless you.”

  “Only the best for my best friend.”

  “I’m your only friend, Paige.”

  “Semantics,” I said, winking.

  “Did you put extra banana peppers on it?” she asked.

  “Do I ever not? They had this new chipotle mayonnaise thing going on. I got a little container of it in case you wanted to put some on your sandwich.”

  “I love their chipotle mayo.”

  “You like anything spicy, so I figured I’d roll with it.”

  “It’s why I like you so much,” she said, grinning.

  “So, how’s business today?” I asked.

  “Rip-roaring. I haven’t gotten off my feet since I got in at five this morning.”

  “You backed up or something?”

  “Only always. It seems like my mornings are starting earlier and earlier.”

  “Sucks when you’re such a good baker,” I said.

  I followed Kami into the back of her bakery where we sat down at a little table in the corner. I’d known Kami for years. We met one another in college. She was getting a degree in music, and I was getting a degree in art history, and then we graduated and did absolutely nothing with our degrees. I guess that was how things went these days, though.

  “How go
es the private investigating?” Kami asked. “Anything juicy you can tell me?”

  “Three weeks ago, I wrapped up four separate cases. All clients who thought their spouses were cheating. Two were cheating, one was dressing in drag and performing at a nightclub, and the other was living a fucking double life.”

  “Like, another wife and kids and shit?” Kami asked.

  “Well, another husband and kids and shit,” I said.

  “The woman was living the double life?!”

  “Oh, yeah. And I called it from the very beginning. I knew there was something fishy about her. Her husband came to me and wanted me to look into her because he thought she was trying to steal his money from him or something. That wasn’t the case at all. I was glad I came with plenty of pictures because he didn’t believe me at first.”

  “One of those guys who think they’re heaven’s gift to women?” she asked.

  “Exactly. It was insane. Anyway, last week I wrapped up my last client for the month. You’ll never guess what the fuck was going on.”

  “Do I need to strap in?”

  “Oh, hell yes. Get this. The woman comes in wanting me to track down her husband. He’s been gone for days, but the police don’t want to do anything about it. So, the first thing I do is go to the police station and figure out why the fuck they aren’t taking on a missing person’s case. Turns out, the head of the police station knows this woman’s husband. He told the head of the police station that he was going on a ‘business trip.’”

  “And we know what that’s code for,” Kami said.

  “So we thought, at least. He wasn’t hard to find with all the money he was blowing. In Cabo. Turns out, he was on a business trip… with his boyfriend.”

  “Oh shit.”

  “Yeah. Blowing thousands of dollars left and right. Not to mention… his boyfriend.”

  “You’re insane, Paige.”

  “It was juicy. The woman was absolutely mortified. It took me three days to piece everything together, just in time for him and his boyfriend to disembark at the airport.”

  “Let me tell you, these stories are the only reason why I’m not still on your ass to get you to pursue your art.”

  “Come on, we’ve talked about this,” I said.

  “I’m just saying that it’s what you went to school for.”

  “No, I went to school for art history.”

  “But everyone in that program knew you needed to be there for just art. Or design. Or something that had to do with your painting and your eye for design and color. Come on, Paige. Do you really wanna be a P.I. for the rest of your life?”

  “Look, it was a job I was handed out of college, and I’m pretty good at it. Is it my dream? No. Is it my passion? Not really. Does it pay the bills and then some? Hell, yeah. I’m living comfortably, which is more than a lot of people in this economy can say right now.”

  “But your happiness means something to me.”

  “And I’m happy! Look at us! Gossipping about juicy shit over the best subs in town! Come on. You take one step outside that door and you can smell the damn ocean, for fuck’s sake.”

  “I just want my best friend to be happy,” she said. “Not just content.”

  “And I’ll get there. But right now, I’m okay with where I’m at. Sometimes it’s frustrating, but that’s life. I mean, look at you. You got a music degree playing cello, and now, you’re one of the most successful bakers in the area. Who would’ve thought that?”

  “Me. I’ve always been a damn fine baker.”

  “But that’s not what you went to school for. Remember when we first met our sophomore year? How you were hellbent on playing in the London Symphony Orchestra for the rest of your life?”

  “Yeah, I was going to study abroad in London and then just never come back,” she said.

  “But things changed. Student loan debt happened, and you started selling shit out of your apartment to help make ends meet. It spiraled, and look at you. You’re happy!”

  “I’m chugging down coffee at four in the morning to come bake cakes.”

  “And the sparkle in your eye is unmistakable,” I said.

  “I just want you to have the same, Paige.”

  “And I get it, Kami. I do. I’ll get there eventually. But right now, I’m okay with where I’m at. Maybe I’ll save up all my money and travel the world and paint until I die. But I need money to do that. And being a private investigator gives it to me.”

  “Which reminds me, when was the last time you went out?” she asked.

  “Oh, no. Not this topic again.”

  “Come on. You chase down cheating spouses for a living. Even they’re getting more than you.”

  “I’m not talking about this,” I said.

  “When was the last time a man just gave it to you good?”

  “Kami.”

  “Really reamed it until your legs shook?”

  “Seriously?” I asked.

  “Used your body for his pleasure before diving between your legs?”

  “I hate you.”

  “You love me, and I’m worried about you. You stay cooped up in that office all day with a boss who always jumps down your throat. The stress alone will kill you before you’re forty if you don’t release it somehow.”

  “I’ve got plenty of toys to keep me company,” I said.

  “Which is a pathetic replacement for an actual man. One with muscles and smooth skin and a baby face.”

  “You know that’s not the kind of man I like, anyway,” I said.

  “Yeah, you like them rugged. Chiseled. With dark hair and a brooding stare.”

  “And tattoos. Don’t ever forget those.”

  “Anyway, you should follow your dreams,” she said.

  “I will when I have the money to. Now, can we please eat and revel in the fact that it’s Friday?”

  “Wait, it’s Friday?” she asked.

  “Yeah?”

  “Oh, shit. I’m so fucking behind. I gotta get back to work. You can stay as long as you’d like, but I’ve got four cakes due tomorrow, and I haven’t decorated a damn one of them.”

  “Whoops,” I said, grinning. “So, I guess you don’t want to hear about the new client I’ve got?”

  “Speak up and tell all, beautiful!” she said.

  “My boss pulled me into his office this morning and told me I have a meeting with a high-end client. My first one.”

  “Your first what?” she asked.

  “High-end client!”

  “Ah! The big bucks. What’s going on with this guy? Cheating spouse? Double life fears? Murder suspect?”

  “Don’t know any of that stuff yet. I won’t until the file hits my desk Monday. All I know is that this client is gonna be paying me some serious money, and the client requested me personally.”

  “Oh, shit,” Kami said. “Look at you, getting a reputation and all that.”

  “I know, right? It’s the first time I’ve ever been personally requested. I’m really excited about this one. He’s going to be paying me so much that he’ll be the only client I take on next month.”

  “That sounds so nice.”

  “Nicer than being a starving artist?” I asked.

  “Oh, I haven’t dropped that shtick yet. You’re too talented to let that painting go to waste. Please tell me you’re still painting in your spare time.”

  “Yep. It’s why I’m not having sex. I’m painting all over the place.”

  “I don’t know if you’re being sarcastic or not, so I’m just gonna roll with it,” she said.

  “Honestly? I don’t know if I’m being sarcastic or not, either.”

  “You’re losing it.”

  “When was that ever a question?” I asked, grinning.

  I took the first bite of my sandwich and moaned as I chewed. The Sub Palace was known for its sandwiches all along the coast of Oregon. I’d met people in the line at the shop that traveled an hour just to get there.

  Their bread was baked
fresh, their meat was from locally-sourced farmers, their seafood subs were to-fucking-die-for, and their seasoned chips were made in-house. It was expensive as hell, but I didn’t care. It was worth every damn bite I took whenever I could stand to wait in the line.

  “How’s that sandwich?” Kami asked.

  “I don’t know. Take a break and come take a bite. I brought you lunch so you’d actually eat it. Not leave it to sniff every once in a while.”

  “You know that’s how us girls lose weight. We sniff the food we can’t have, and if we get desperate we take a bite, chew ten times, then spit it out.”

  “Not me,” I said. “I eat whatever the fuck I want.”

  “That’s because you carry your curves in all the right places. My weight shoots to my stomach. Yours fills out your hips, tits, and ass. I hate you, by the way.”

  “Whatever. You know how hard it is finding clothes to fucking fit my weird-ass body?”

  “Boo hoo. You have a body men drool over. Suck my dick.”

  “Only if you start with me,” I said, smiling. “Come on. Put the damn fondant down and come take a bite.”

  “This isn’t fondant. It’s just regular icing. I hate fondant because people can’t eat it. What’s the use of filling up a cake with something people can’t eat? I might as well put cardboard in it, to get it to stand up the way fondant does, but even better.”

  “Who the fuck cares whether it’s fondant or regular icing or why? Come on. Come sit and eat. You can pull a long day or come in early or whatever. But if you pass out face-first in that cake because you didn’t eat, you’ll have to start all over.”

  “Fine. Okay. The fondant issue is important to me. But I’ll come eat. Under one condition.”

  “What?” I asked, groaning.

  “When you know everything there is to know about this rich-ass client of yours, you have to call me.”

  “You know I can’t do that until a case is wrapped up,” I said.

  “Oh, come on. Who’s gonna know?”

  I shook my head. “I can tell you everything except names once the case is finished.”

  “You take this job too seriously.”

  “Sucks to be an adult,” I said. “Now eat.”

  “Yes, Mom.”