LOGAN (BAD BOY BIKER ROMANCE) (21 page)

Chapter 2

Owen

"Buy him chocolate. Billionaires love chocolate!"

Owen Underwood paused in his shopping, basket full of goods in one hand, and scowled down at his smart phone's image of his sister. "And what do you know about the eating habits of billionaires, Naomi? When did this become a thing with you?"

From the other side of the planet, in New York City, Naomi allowed herself an expression of confusion. "Well, everything!" she blew her nose into a tissue. "I'm not just laying in bed, sick, just so you can prance around in the tropical sun by yourself. I've been doing research."

Owen rolled his eyes, and somehow managed to take a bag of peanuts off a shelf and place it in the basket.

The clerk from behind the counter asked, "Need some help, sir?" He looked pointedly at Owen's basket stuffed with snack food of various kinds.

"No, thank you," Owen said. "I'm almost done." He moved deeper down the aisle. The selection of goods in this tiny store was even more limited than he would have expected. Not that he expected much. But, when you have a potential client like Cole Grant to cater too, you did what you could.

Owen switched off the phone's loud speaker and held it to his ear. "Do you have to announce to the world who I am meeting today? Can that be a secret please?"

Naomi blew her nose, again, honking in Owen's ear. "Why? It's good advertising, isn't it? What if people need to know we serve billionaires? They might know a billionaire and refer us!"

"Not this time," Owen said. He was aware of the certain level of privacy Cole Grant had cloaked himself with. Starting, and operating giant Internet companies made him rich at a very young age. Very, very rich. But he obviously didn't appreciate the attention such wealth brought him. Hardly any images of the man existed that Owen could find. Which, in this day and age, was kind of a miracle.

Not that Owen minded. Grant was a client, and even though his representatives didn't state as such, privacy would be provided as best as Owen could do. Owen just didn't need Cole Grant's name shouted about for all to hear by his sister.

"This time," Owen said, "we keep things quiet. It's bad enough we had such short notice. Maybe that's a good thing. No time to advertise what we're up to." He and Naomi had built up their Realtor business to the point that they could start representing big, international properties. They had people to handle the local listings, but the Underwood siblings would handle anything overseas.

Preferably warm. With lots of beaches and tanned, hunky men.

This resulted in their first big call. Someone was very interested in an old resort on Vadisha island, long abandoned by some bankrupt conglomerate. The listing price was huge. Colossal, even. Which meant the commission was a sizable percentage of colossal. Of course, Owen and Naomi jumped at the chance. But with Naomi sick, Owen had to handle it on his own.

Owen grinned. "How you feeling, anyway?" He tried not to sound too smug.

"How do you think? Like I'm on the edge of death!"

Owen went to the front counter and started to pull things out of the basket for the clerk to register in. He spotted a display of chocolate bars to one side.

"Look, I'll give you an update when I can."

"Call me from the island. No. Call me and tell me how handsome he is! He's single! Dammit! Why do I have to be sick?"

"Because you're the lucky one," Owen said, and almost cackled.

"Fine. Just keep me updated. It's the only thing keeping me alive!"

"Uh huh," Owen said, and caught himself rolling his eyes. He then glared at the display of chocolate bars, and grabbed a big handful to put on the counter.

"Did you get the chocolate?" Naomi whined into his ear.

"Nope," Owen said, and hung up.

Outside, he was slightly relieved to find his taxi still waiting for him. Not that he really expected it to take off with another tourist. There really weren't many around.

I'm to used to New York taxis, he thought, as he piled the bags of snack food into the back seat. He noticed the driver leering at him, and glancing down Owen's shirt at his well cut frame.

"Help, you, friend?" Mr. Leer asked. "Handsome thing like you shouldn't strain yourself. I can help with that."

Owen managed a laugh as he got in and slammed the door. "No, thanks. I can manage."

"I don't doubt it," he said, and grinned.

Ah, geez. "Take me to the pier, please." He wanted to rip a strip out of the guy, but for right now, he just needed to get the boat ready.

"Okay, then." The driver said, with obvious disappointment.

As they drove, Owen started shoving bottled water, and soft drinks into the little cooler he had the foresight to buy on his arrival at Marrisha. He had arrived on an overnight flight, checked into the hotel, showered, and grabbed his work stuff before leaving to start his day. He had told the hotel staff not to expect him back until well after dark.

No rest for the weary. Dollar bills danced before his vision. Some things were just worth losing a little sleep over. He can catch up later on a well paid for vacation. A long one. The commission would guarantee that.

They drove at a moderate speed down narrow windy island roads. Houses of various sizes and costs, passed his vision. Most of it poor.

Well, at least they have the sun year round. This weather beat the hip deep snow back home by a long shot.

He checked the time on his phone. It was going to be tight, but if the ship his company had booked was already prepped, and fuelled he would be good to go, once Cole Grant arrived.

Cole Grant. Single.

Thanks, Naomi. I didn't need to be reminded of that.

Owen had recently dumped his loser boyfriend, Jason. It was such a bad break up that he resolved never to date another Jason, again. Ever. All Jasons in the world were completely off limits.

"So, where are you going today, with all that food?" the driver suddenly asked.

"On a boat," Owen said. He was on the verge of offering to pay this man double fare just to shut up.

"Ah, a boat!" the driver said in the manner a child might when finding a prize at the bottom of a box of teeth rotting candy. "As an islander, boats are second nature to me. I can help. Maybe be your captain."

"No, thank you. I have one already." No need to get into it with this guy.

The man made a tsk tsk sound and shook his head with exaggerated disappointment. "Ah, to spend the day on the sea with a cute guy like you would be something someone could treasure for the rest of his life."

Laying it on a little thick, aren't ya buddy? Owen thought. Outwardly he just laughed, but politely. He appreciated the compliment. He just didn't need such a compliment today, of all days.

"Thanks, but I'm meeting my boyfriend." That was a good lie.

"Ah, lucky man, then."

He was, he thought. He just didn't know it. The fool.

Mercifully, before the driver could make another impassioned go at him, they pulled up to the pier's entrance. Through a long chain link fence could be see dozens of boats, with the vast ocean spread out past the horizon behind them.

Owen paid the driver, gathered up his day bag and the cooler, and hopped out. As he walked away the driver called out, "Don't sink, now, baby boy!"

Oh, please, he thought. The cooler was a little heavy, and the hot morning sun was beating down on him. Already, he was starting to sweat up a storm.

It will make for a great first impression.

Next to the pier's gate was a tiny building with the sign above saying 'Harbor Master'. He made his way toward it, and pushed his way through its glass door.

After some muddling with the harbor master, he managed to pick up the ship booking Naomi had made for him. It was a forty footer, with high powered engines, and already fully fuelled. Considering the price it had better be.

As he was leaving the little office the harbor master called after him, "Don't you need a captain?"

Owen simply rolled his eyes and made his way down the pier.

He gazed in amazement at all the beautiful boats docked here. He envied the owners of each one, even the crappy little sail boats. At least someone got to own it and use it here in this stunning area of the world.

He located his rental, 'The Ocean Pearl', and coughed a laugh. "Really? This is going to look professional." he climbed aboard, and made his way up to the open top bridge.

He dropped his bag and the cooler and immediately got out his phone. He texted the name of the ship to Naomi, back in New York. Then he went below, using the key to open the main hatch. A quick survey told his everything was clean and in order.

Well, at least I have that going for me.

As he was loading up the little fridge with drinks Naomi texted him back.

'Messaged relayed and big B confirmed.' Big B was what Naomi was referring Cole Grant as. Big Billionaire.

'The Ocean Pearl? Is that name serious?' Naomi sent.

Owen texted back, 'Yup. Wish me luck.'

'I wish for you a big fat commission!' Naomi returned.

Owen could only laugh. It was okay for Naomi to be excited about this potential deal. It was a little infectious, now that he thought about it. But he couldn't get too giddy. He needed to act professional.

Or at least pretend to.

He moved up to the bridge and started to check the equipment. After a short while someone called from below. "Hello, there!"

Owen had to lean over to see who it was.

There was a man standing on the wharf, smiling up at him.

Oh, God. He's here! So soon!

Slightly flustered at being caught not fully prepared he said, "Yes! One moment!"

He leaned back, and quickly gave the bridge a visual once over.

He's here. This is happening. It really is happening!

He shook his head to clear his mind of Naomi's gabbling voice, then climbed down the short ladder to the main deck.

Owen turned to look at him.

He was tall, muscular, and deeply tanned. His dark hair was short and cropped. He was wearing a simple pale blue buttoned collared shirt, and pale white cargo pants.

He grinned at Owen from behind his dark sunglasses. His teeth were bright to the point of being blinding.

"Hello," he said, again.

Owen was caught off guard. Sweet Lord, he was devastatingly handsome.

When he didn't respond immediately, the man hoisted an eyebrow at his in mild concern. "Oh, yes," he said. "I almost forgot." He removed his sunglasses and the picture was now complete.

Somewhere, deep inside him, Owen felt his soul move.

Wow. Just... Wow.

Then, the man started to sing.

"The Rain In Spain Falls Mainly On The Plain." And as if this was the most normal thing to do, the man kept smiling at him.

Uh. What? Owen's mind managed to ask. Here he was in an island paradise being serenaded by a drop dead gorgeous billionaire. The very thought caused his head to spin.