Page 59 of The Billionaire and I

She blearily opened one eye. “Huh?” she croaked.

“Coffee,” I enunciated slowly. “You know, the beverage?”

“Oh, that’s funny. Ha ha.” But she grimaced a little as she sat up. “You’d think I was some novice, mixing rum punches with tequila. I guess I got carried away with all those little umbrellas.”

“You aren’t the only one.” I laughed. “I saw Todd at breakfast. Three of the bridesmaids were throwing up last night.”

She rubbed her temples. “You already went to breakfast?”

I nodded. “It’s almost noon, so I’m waking you up. I knew you wouldn’t want to miss the day.”

“It’s that late?” She sounded distressed. “I don’t want to miss a minute of our vacation! Let me go and get dressed?—”

I gently grabbed her wrist. “Easy, girl. There’s no rush. There’s plenty of time left this week. And I’m sure there’ll be more Caribbean vacations in your future.”

There was an awkward silence, and Jenny winced. But she recovered so quickly, I might’ve imagined it.

“I’m going to take a quick shower and get dressed,” she said swiftly. “Then we can go out and do whatever you want.”

I watched her face. It was a smooth, impenetrable mask.Fuck. I’d just said the wrong thing, and I knew it.

This might be Jenny’s first and only trip to the Caribbean. The things I took for granted—like the inevitably of another luxury vacation—were by no means guaranteed in Jenny’s world.

“How about some lunch, a beach walk, and then swimming?” I asked, trying to make it right. “Maybe we can find Iggy and feed him a snack?”

“Sounds perfect.” She gave me a bright smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes and then hustled to the bathroom. I heard her turn the shower on, and I lay back in bed, cursing myself.

I’m sure there’ll be more Caribbean vacations in your future.

I really was an insensitive ass sometimes. First of all, we were currently on a romantic vacationtogether. And yet, I’d said “your future” to her, not “our future.” Second, who was I to assume that Jenny would ever take another vacation like this? If we weren’t together, what would happen to her once we returned to Boston?

That was the question that had kept me awake as I’d tossed and turned all night. I’d awoken this morning with no answer. I’d also apparently awoken with no tact. I’d hurt Jenny’s feelings, and it had been entirely inadvertent.Way to go, Cole.

Jenny and the bridesmaids weren’t the only ones to suffer from the rum punches and tequila shots. I hadn’t slept much due to the combination of alcohol and my swirling thoughts. Day one of our vacation had been great—one of the best days ever. But it had left me unsettled. Why would I want our arrangement to end if I was having so much fun and feeling happy?

The truth was, I didn’t want to say goodbye to Jenny when we got back home. I couldn’t even imagine it. But what else could I do? We were from two different worlds. And I’d onlyknown her for a week. When I hired her as my fake date, I had zero intention of getting attached. Given my relationship track record, I hadn’t even considered it a possibility. And now I had my father to think about, my inheritance, my empire…

I stared up at the ceiling, remembering the idea I’d had—the one about having akept woman. The term was antiquated, misogynistic, and disparaging. It also had an undeniable appeal. I could keep Jenny safe, and more importantly, I could keep her just forme. No other man was going to touch her. I could set her up in a condominium, ensure she had everything she needed, and maybe things could stay the way they were between us. No one had to know about my private life, not even my father: that’s why it was calledprivate.

What would Jenny say about any of this? I had no idea. I’d been too chicken to raise the topic of the future with her. Whenever I thought about bringing it up, an unfamiliar and uncomfortable feeling swept through me—self-doubt. What if she wasn’t interested in pursuing our relationship? What if she wanted nothing to do with me? What if shewasfaking?

I lay there, considering the uncomfortable questions circling in my mind. Then, I had an answer:nah.First of all, women, in general, loved me. They always had. I was handsome, muscular, rich AF, and great in bed. That was just the truth, and I knew it.

Second, Jenny herself liked me. I knew she did. I made her laugh, and she wasn’t faking. Our sex was electric—and she wasn’t faking that, either. I believed she was genuinely having a good time with me. And I had as much fun being at a fancy dinner with her as I did walking down the street. All of it was good. Being close to each other seemed natural for both of us. I’d woken up that morning holding her hand. The affection between us wasn’t my imagination; it was real.

I just didn’t know what to do with it.

A few minutes later, Jenny came out of the bathroom. Her curls were still damp, and her face was bare of makeup. She looked more beautiful to me than ever.

“I’m almost ready,” she said. “Are you wearing your bathing suit to lunch, or do we come back to change? All this resort stuff is new to me.” Jenny still sounded slightly off, and I knew I’d hurt her.

“You can wear your suit and a cover-up. We can leave right from lunch to walk the beach. I’ll pack a bag with sunscreen and waters. And some mango. And beet greens.” I would literally do anything to make it up to her. “Okay, babe?”

“Okay.” She smiled, but again, it seemed forced.

I sighed. “Can you come here for a second?”

“Sure.” She came and obediently sat on the edge of the bed.

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