Page 16 of The Billionaire's Son

“I’ll bet you end up with a nasty bruise.”

“Maybe,” she said. “Hey, thanks for the clothes. Much appreciated.”

“You’re welcome. Lunch is waiting,” Trey said. “Come downstairs when you’re ready.”

Jason grumbled when she returned him to the floor, so Trey stepped forward and took his hand. “Let’s go eat, Jase. Mommy needs to get dressed.”

Jason frowned, remaining stubbornly in place. “Why can’t we stay with Mommy while she gets dressed?”

Trey glanced to Kelly. When their gazes collided, an unexpected arc of awareness shot between them. Yeah, he’d definitely like to watch her get dressed. Her breasts were magnificent. Perfectly formed and completely natural, a rare thing among the women in his social circle. He wouldn’t mind confirming the rest of her body was just as stunning.

“I’ll be right there, Jason,” she promised, breaking the moment. “Just give me a minute, okay.”

“Greta made your favorite sandwich just for you,” Trey said, wondering where his inappropriate thoughts had come from.

“Peanut butter and jelly?” Jason asked in a hopeful voice.

“Yes.”

“Grape jelly?”

“Of course.”

“Okay, Daddy.”

Trey breathed a sigh of relief as Jason scampered toward the stairs. “Grape works every time,” he told Kelly. “We’ll see you downstairs.”

“Sure,” she said, and disappeared inside the guest room. Trey followed Jase downstairs, his thoughts returning to Kelly’s body. He’d also noticed an old burn mark near her collar bone. Its shape suggested someone had ground a lit cigarette into her flesh.

He shook his head, not wanting to think about how much that must have hurt. “Uncle Brian!” Jason spotted Brian and ran across the room toward the attorney, his arms extended wide. “Airplane ride.”

Smiling at his son’s display of normal childhood enthusiasm, Trey dismissed thoughts of Kelly Jenkins’s possibly troubled past. He had enough problems to worry about and didn’t need to add hers to his pile.

Making whooshing sounds as if he were a flying airplane, Brian swept a giggling Jason high into the air, and then placed him back on the floor.

“Ready for some lunch?” Brian asked.

Jason nodded and they moved into the dining room where Greta had laid out a buffet of sandwiches, a tureen of soup, cut melon and fresh cookies. Dr. Donna Carico sat at the huge thick glass table speaking on her cell phone with an untouched sandwich before her. She looked up when Jason ran into the room and terminated her call.

Trey nodded at the doctor, knowing she’d had to reschedule appointments. “Thanks for coming, Donna.”

She nodded back, and a troubled smile crossed her face as Jason sat down beside her. “Hey, Jason,” she said.

“Hi, Dr. Donna.”

Trey thought Jason sounded shy. Their eyes met briefly, but then Jason turned back to the doctor.

“Are you here to talk to me?” Jason asked.

“Yes, sir. If you want to talk to me.”

Jason shrugged and focused on his sandwich. He took a bite. Then another. “Okay,” he mumbled around the bread in his mouth and held out his hand to the doctor.

Trey relaxed. Jason was willing to talk to his therapist, so maybe Donna could make some progress. Trey was beginning to doubt the wisdom of carrying on the charade that Kelly was his son’s mother. Perhaps the longer that went on, the harder it would be for Jason to face reality.

Maybe the break should be a clean one. Like ripping off a Band-Aid.

Donna accepted Jason’s offered hand, and the two left the room to go to Jason’s play room where they usually spoke. Dr. Carico would know the best way to proceed. He’d filled her in on the tumultuous morning during their phone call.

Trey nodded at Greta who hovered by the door in case she was needed. “Please take their lunch to them in the play room.”

As Greta gathered the plates, a fully dressed Kelly Jenkins entered the dining room looking as if she were on her way to play nine holes on the Collins Island course. Stunned by the transformation, Trey came to his feet and had to jerk his gaze away from her long, tanned legs. Her blond hair hung loosely around her shoulders, framing a pretty but serious face. She cleaned up nice, an old saying of his mother’s, filtered through his brain. The only thing that spoiled the image was her filthy running shoes.

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