Page 20 of The Billionaire Is Back

I made a promise a long time ago that I would never let that happen to this family again.

“Great to see you, Dad.”

“‘Great to see you,’” he teases, mimicking me. “Who am I? The chairman of the board? Do I look like I’m wearing loafers with no socks?”

Grinning, I try that again. “Hi, Dad.” I step back and take him in. He’s a couple of inches shorter than Damien and I are, a little rounder in the belly, but we got our good looks from him. He seems healthy too, not at all like he had just had a major heart episode. “You look good,” I tell him, probably failing to keep the surprise out of my voice.

“I feel great,” he says defensively. “And I would very much like to enjoy this barbecue in your honor. But your mother, as always, wants me to be miserable.”

“I want you to live!” she hollers from two feet away.

“Eating the rabbit food those doctors want me to eat is not living!”

Even though they’re bickering, I see the little smiles. They can’t help themselves. They’ve been madly in love with each other my whole life.Thathas been my standard my whole life. Maybe it’s unfair, but on every first or second date with the women I met in New York—and it never goes much beyond a second date—I can tell that the connection will never be what my mother and father have.

There’s only one girl who has ever made me feel thatway. Like coming home. Like she could be my home. But she isn’t an option. And she doesn’t seem to be a very big fan of mine at the moment anyway.

“Is that the cake?” my mother asks, pointing to the box in my hand. She takes it from me, places it on a side table, and opens it. “Ohhhh, it’s lovely. It’s just perfect!”

“Tell you what, dear. I won’t have any dessert. I’ll just stick to the main course,” my father says like he’s a wise, old benevolent king.

“Nice try, Michael. I know you don’t care about sweets.” Mom turns her attention back to me. “Did you see the shop, Grady? Isn’t it the cutest? I just love what Claire’s done with the place.”

“Yes, she—I mean,itlooked great. The bakery looks great.”

“Did you two have a chance to catch up?”

“Yeah, she, uh, welcomed me back,” I say, suddenly losing the ability to lie well when it comes to Claire.

“Did she, now?” my brother says with a shit-eating grin. I feel like he can see right through me.

Time to change the subject. “So, I have a question. Why was there a family beach trip planned for when I decided to come home?”

My mother folds her arms and sighs, deftly shifting her annoyance from my father to my brother. “Your brother does not currently have access to a car, so we had to drive him to the beach.”

“What? Why?” I look to Damien for answers.

My brother shrugs, clearly not giving a shit. “Just drunk driving. Whatever.”

I glare at him. Pissed. “What?” While he has neverbeen particularly responsible, he isn’t dangerous or stupid. Putting himself and other peoples’ lives at risk is not okay.

He lets go of his guitar momentarily, holding up his hands to calm me down. “It’s not what you think. I wasn’t driving a car. I would never drive a car drunk.”

“Then why did you get a DUI?”

“It’s not a DUI, it’s an OUI. It was…a lawn mower,” he mumbles.

“A lawntractor.My lawn tractor,” my father adds.

“You can get a OUI for that?” I ask, bewildered.

“Can you believe that?” my brother says with a sense of bitter injustice.

“You shouldn’t be operating any vehicle while under the influence!” My mom points a finger at my brother.

“She’s right,” I scold him. “It’s still a vehicle with a motor.”

“Ahhh, the damn cutting deck wasn’t even on,” my father interjects.

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