Page 75 of The Billionaire Experience

“I love you like this,” Reagan said. “I’m not the only one who’s different. You wore skeptical too well.”

“Did I ever. Being vulnerable is terrifying. One cannot afford to be vulnerable in this Branson eats Bezos world.” Kelly grinned at her own joke. “Maybe I’ll eventually reach the point of enlightenment where I see my vulnerability as a strength.”

“Here’s hoping.”

An hour later, Reagan was humming as she pulled into the driveway. The garage door was open, Brody’s car parked inside. Seeing him round the side yard riding her grandfather’s old lawnmower was a sight to behold. It was like a mirage, or a sliding-doors reality where this was actually her life.

How would they have met in an alternate universe? Would she have been a lost traveler who ran into him in Milan? Or would he have been a local who’d crossed her path at the hardware store? Both scenarios appealed.

He raised a gloved hand to wave and then swiped his forehead with the back of it. His grin was wolfish and inviting. The man made lawnmowing sexy. How had he managed that?

She was still humming when she opened her bedroom door, and then she froze in place, her jaw hitting the floor.

What. The…?

Along with her luggage and the bed, the room also held the contents of her storage unit. She blinked in disbelief at her belongings. He’d even nestled her red armchair into the corner. Her labeled cardboard boxes were still packed, though she didn’t see the one marked kitchen, which she assumed was in the kitchen.

She set her purse on the dresser—her dresser, not the one that had been in here before—when she heard Brody clear his throat behind her. “How did you…?”

“I might have borrowed the key off your keyring after you fell asleep last night.” He swiped it off the nightstand and held it between two fingers, offering it to her. “You mad at me?”

“Um—” She wasn’t mad, but she was experiencing a feeling she hadn’t named before. “I’m not sure why you did this.”

“You live here. I don’t want you to feel like a guest in a house that used to be yours.”

“Ike’s.”

“Whatever. You’ve mentioned your storage unit multiple times, like you were missing the stuff in it.” He leaned a shoulder on the doorframe as she gaped at him. “Now you don’t have to miss it.”

“I’m surprised you’d want this stuff here.”

“I want you here,” he said. “Why not your stuff? Later, we can use that blender you talked so much about. I vote for margaritas instead of smoothies.”

The word smoothies came out on a wheeze because she’d thrown her arms around his neck and had knocked the wind out of him.

“I stink,” he said, his hand coming to her back.

“I like it.” He smelled like sweat and sunshine. A lot like home, which caused her heart to crack down the center in the best way.

His hand slid up until it cuffed her neck. “You can join me for a shower if you want.”

“I already had a shower.” She smiled up at him.

“It’s less of a utilitarian shower for you. Your role is more…decorative.”

She pinched his side when he laughed. “I am much more than decorative.”

“A lot more,” he agreed tenderly.

“I can’t believe you did this.” She took another look around the room. Her furniture didn’t have a speck of dust on it. “Thank you.”

“Anytime.”

He then announced that his shower was happening in five minutes and that she needed to have her “cute bare ass” in there or else. She opened a cardboard box and found her favorite scented candle on the top. As she inhaled the fragrance of sage, she closed her eyes and allowed herself to sink deeper into the fantasy.

Or was this her reality?

After a soapy, orgasmic shower for both of them, Brody had helped Reagan unpack the box marked kitchen. She’d gone to visit her grandfather tonight, which worked out great as Brody had promised to have a beer with Dante, who was leaving for New York in the morning. With a promise to see each other later, Brody kissed her goodbye and headed out the door.

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