Love Shack (Tiny Houses, Big Hearts) (20 page)

Picking up his phone, he jotted down “wealthy busy parents” and emailed the note to himself. That way if the dogs woke up, he’d have another piece of the puzzle. When his phone dinged and his note stared back at him, he just looked at it.

Then Felicity started singing along with the music she turned on. He realized he loved listening to her be happy. The note he’d taken wouldn’t do anything to make her happy. He deleted it before running up behind her and wrapping his arms around her. He forgot to plug his phone back in.

He didn’t even want to look at it. His fingers found the strip of skin between Felicity’s tank top and her pants, and her skin was soft enough that he didn’t want to worry about touching anything else for the rest of the day.

Chapter Thirty

Brandon Halston was the opposite of the man he’d always been when he entered Felicity’s home. Her home was his safe haven from who he had to be. He had no idea how she’d managed to flip that switch in his brain, but she had.

By whatever magic she wielded, he was able to pretend there. He was able to run away and never even have the desire to open his overflowing email inbox.

They didn’t leave the tiny house for another two days. Today would be no different if he could have any say about it. They’d occasionally eat as well, but they hadn’t bothered with proper clothes for more than a couple hours since she ripped the buttons from his shirt.

It was hedonistic and raw, and frankly Brandon never thought he had it in him to be so fucking adventurous.

But after taking stock, they had to put on clothes and venture out today. They were out of condoms. And food too, but mostly condoms. Of course the most important shipment had been unable to find its way to Felicity’s door.

Felicity hopped out of her truck and spun in a circle on her way to the farmer’s market. She was wearing a knee-length peasant skirt. Brandon knew from getting dressed beside her, that she wasn’t wearing anything underneath that light fabric. The sun shone high in the sky and illuminated her. Brandon could see the outline of her legs through the material, and he shoved his hands in his pockets to keep from lifting it just a bit higher. The breeze let the skirt float just above her lower thighs and he knew she could feel the warm air between her legs.

They needed to get back home. He might be brainwashed, but he was enjoying every damn second of it.

“Did you grab the rolling cart?” Felicity already had an armful of fresh fruit and vegetables waiting to get loaded.

“Just give me a quick second to unfold it.”

One exasperated sigh shattered his sense of peace. “There you are.”

The outside world started to crack his bubble of sex haze. Brandon finished unfolding the cart and let Felicity load it up. His boss was here. Brandon didn’t want to get pulled back into things, but he came crashing back to reality when his boss’s suit shone like a neon sign among all the natural fibers around them.

“Mr. Pembrook. I didn’t know you were looking for me.”

Felicity frowned at him for the first time in half a week. He didn’t like it, but he let his boss usher him away.

Pembrook made sure Felicity was out of earshot.

The man pulled a chewed on cigar from his lips and scoffed. “How could you know? Your phone has been going straight to voicemail for the last forty-eight hours. We need to talk.”

Brandon turned and saw Felicity giving a leery look to them both, but she made no move to interrupt. Even though she wouldn’t be able to hear their words, she had to know this was about her. Brandon sure did.

“Is this about the purchase of her land?”

The look on Pembrook’s face told him this had nothing to do with buying her plot for her. His boss chewed his cheek and scoffed. This was going to be something Brandon didn’t want to hear.

“Is it something that I have to know before the month is up?” Brandon asked with his voice as low as he could make it. He didn’t want it to be over already. His mind had been able to push reality away successfully, and he had been thoroughly enjoying his ignorance. The look in Pembrook’s eyes told him those days were about to be over.

“You want me to keep information from you?” Pembrook had never been left speechless. This was no exception. “You have to want to know what kind of woman you are sharing space with.”

“I know a lot about her now. It’s true, I don’t know much about her past, but there are a lot of people who leave bad things behind.” The market didn’t seem to glitter as brightly anymore. His mind started to clear, and Brandon didn’t like it at all.

“That’s the thing. She didn’t leave anything bad behind. Quite the opposite actually.” His boss looked around. Pembrook was drawing attention and he wasn’t fond of that. “We need to go somewhere else to talk. Now.”

Brandon pushed a finger in his boss’s face. “Give me one minute. Please.”

He jogged over to Felicity, who was inspecting the same apple for the third time when he reached her.

“What’s going on?” she asked the fruit.

“Let me take this stuff back to the truck for you. I need to head out with my boss. There’s some kind of crisis he wants to talk to me about.” Brandon forced a smile that had come so easily not five minutes ago. “Probably a sketchy sales month without me at the helm.”

“Don’t lie.”

He stepped back. “I don’t know what he wants to say, but…”

She paid for the apple she’d been groping and tossed it on top of the rolling cart. “I’ll call Debbie and set up the final interview. She told me if we decide to cut the tiny house challenge short, she wanted to know.”

“I never said I was leaving.”

Even as he said the words, he realized she might not be asking if he was, but telling him to go. His morning coffee felt like acid in his gut. He didn’t want to go, but he had to. Didn’t he?

“Whatever your boss wants to tell you about me—and I know it’s something about me since he has to take you away—you’re probably not going to like what you hear. And if you do…well, you’re probably not the type of guy I want in my bed.” Felicity grabbed the cart and tilted it on its wheels. “I am perfectly capable of carrying my own groceries. I’ll meet you back at the house when you’re done.”

Felicity wheeled off, and Brandon was at a loss. She didn’t think he’d want to stay with her when he found out about her past, and his boss had braved the hippie market, as he liked to call it.

What the hell was he about to hear?

* * * * *

Brandon ordered the eggs benedict. They were at a restaurant the bank commonly used for meetings. Top of the line food, with privacy on the side. They were in a small room the bank reserved for wooing clients. Brandon didn’t feel wooed at the moment. He felt like he was getting some very heavy wool pulled from over his eyes. And what he was hearing made him itch.

“She’s rich?” Brandon wiped his mouth after nearly spitting out his food.

“From one of the richest families in the country. A couple years back, she was set to begin a reality show about her family life in luxury hills. They had her contract signed and some of the promotional work shot. Then in the middle of an awards show, she just walks out, and drops out of the spotlight.”

Brandon looked at the files, and pictures, and could not believe it. He had to look past the colored and straightened hair, but those were definitely his Felicity’s eyes. “She’s a Newowski?”

“I’m guessing the only one with a natural hair color now, but yes. I’ve been in touch with her parents, and they haven’t heard from her in over six months. They weren’t exactly the easiest people to get in touch with, but when I finally heard back from their assistants, I got the confirmation I needed.” He leaned in closer. “If you can convince Felicity to return home, they’ve agreed to move all of their local accounts to our bank. And we are talking enough money to buy and sell the city several times over. The growth bonus alone will pay for my kids’ college. In Europe.”

“You don’t want to take this to the press? You want me to convince her to go back to mommy and daddy morebucks?” Suddenly the fancy food was just a reminder of what he’d been fooled into believing. He didn’t want another bite.

“It’s always been about business, Brandon. Having you bend to this stunt request from the local reporter was good PR. But PR doesn’t translate to this kind of return. I think we need to make these people happy, because making them happy will make me very happy.”

“Won’t the news stations pick up on this anyway? They’re all invested in Felicity’s charity. This won’t go away.”

Mr. Pembrook obviously didn’t have the same dead sick weight in the pit of his stomach that Brandon did. The man destroyed his plate of crapes in a just a few bites. “You think the media can’t be bought? If we bring home daughter dearest, the Newowskis’ will take care of the press.”

“Those people are spotlight hogs. They will use this to spin off more tell-all books or publicity for their parties. I don’t think Felicity will want that.”

“You think you know about what this woman wants?”

“I know a lot about her.” Brandon had to say it. He had to believe it at least on some level.

“Then how come you didn’t know this?”

And that was all he could think about heading back to the tiny house in a cab. It was two hours later. Brandon had let himself be distracted at the restaurant with sales figures and spreadsheets, and planning projects for when he returned to work.

He realized he was fooling himself thinking he could get away from reality for a whole month. He would just be running away from who he was. Because as much fun as he’d had working on the building projects with Tom, and as much as he loved the smell of a woodwick candle, and knowing where everything he used on a day to day basis came from, it wasn’t
his
reality. Hell, it wasn’t even Felicity’s.

Brandon had a big apartment that was perfect for entertaining clients. Before he’d lived with Felicity, he would have called those same people friends, but in reality, he was more connected to this woman who he didn’t know a damn thing about. He shouldn’t be angry. She hadn’t promised him anything. He’d known she was hiding something. But he hadn’t expected this.

After putting cash in the hands of the cab driver, who conveniently didn’t have change for a fifty, Brandon stood outside the tiny house, staring at it. The building was simple in shape and design from the outside, but inside it was exactly what Felicity needed it to be. Inside was something just perfect for her. For a few days, it had felt like Brandon could fit too.

He squared his shoulders, turned off the phone Pembrook had forced him to take until his own recharged, and stepped inside.

Chapter Thirty-One

It was a mistake to let someone get this close. It was a mistake to want to help people. Her mother had always told Felicity that charity work had to be looked at as an investment. Her mother told her that it was important to know what press would be in attendance, and how many people were already interested in the cause before taking it up.

Felicity didn’t want to think about the payoff for giving people homes. She just wanted to make people happy.

Turned out the road to hell was paved with good intentions.

Brandon didn’t even knock as he stepped inside her home. He didn’t say anything as he pulled a chair from the wall and sat down.

His boss had uncovered who she used to be. It was the only thing that made sense. Felicity hadn’t even called home in…it had to be at least a year. She was sick of her parents’ demands and even more tired of them putting her down. She’d had to walk away. She couldn’t be happy with them, and they couldn’t be happy for her. So she’d done what was best for her heart, and stopped trying to reason with a brick wall of money.

There was a part of her that had held out just a smidge of hope she was wrong. Brandon crushed it.

“I have to say…” he started and looked up at her, and the disappointment was crushing. “This is the first time I’ve ever slept with someone and didn’t know their real last name.”

He crossed his legs and his arms, and she watched as his face washed clean of the emotion she’d shared with him the last few days.

He finally just asked, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I changed my name. Who I was in the past wasn’t relevant to who I am now, or what I’m trying to do.”

“If you needed money, why didn’t you use your trust fund?”

“I don’t want their money.” Felicity wrapped her arms around her stomach. “And I would have to change my name back if I wanted to access it. My parents refused to recognize my name change.”

“They do all kinds of charity work. I’m sure they’d write a check for this whole thing and you could go off and do whatever you wanted. Like…go back home.”

Felicity felt the bile rise in her throat at the suggestion of returning to her parents’ house. They weren’t abusive, and they weren’t violent, but they were apathetic. They came from money, and their only skills seemed to revolve around making more of it. Any difference they made in the lives of other people was dwarfed by the amount of work they put into maintaining their status. She was sick of it all.

“I don’t belong there. And they might not even want me back at this point.” Which she wasn’t all too upset about.