The Billionaire Boyfriend Proposal: A Kavanagh Family Novel (2 page)

"Everyone except Blake."

My heart didn't a little flip in my chest, as
it always did when I heard his name. Old habits died hard, I guess.
"Maybe he's left Roxburg again." I tried to sound like I didn't
care, but I heard the hitch in my voice. "Now that Reece has
decided not to tear this place down, Blake has no reason to
stay.

"Maybe. But it seems like he hasn't got a
reason to leave now either."

I fumbled the nail she passed me and it fell
through the space between the steps and landed on the ground. "What
do you mean?"

"Didn't you know? He's quit the army."

Holy crap. Blake had been in the army all
this time? That explained the muscles upon muscles. "I didn't even
know he'd enlisted." I took another nail and concentrated on the
task. If I let my focus lapse, I'd wind up with a bruised
finger.

"Apparently he didn't tell his family for
years either. I think they hired a P.I. to locate him, but he never
wrote or called. What kind of guy does that to his family?"

One who wanted to disappear.

"He seemed pretty intense with you
yesterday." Becky's tone was teasingly curious, but I wouldn't get
sucked into answering. "You guys have history." It wasn't a
question.

"We've known each other all our lives. I used
to date him." I left it at that. I liked Becky, but I preferred to
keep our relationship on a teacher-student footing. It was easier
that way.

"Good job," she said, inspecting the
step.

I tested it with my weight. It held so I
jumped on it and it still held. "Coffee first or do I tackle the
garden?"

"Coffee," she said, grinning. "Then I'll help
you. I'm pretty sure I did some of that damage."

I tossed the hammer back into the toolbox and
closed the lid. "Don't sweat it. Considering the chaos of
yesterday, the place came out all right. Besides, gardening is
soothing."

"At least you don't have to clean up your
fence."

"Huh?"

She looked at me like I was stupid. "The
fences all along your street. Haven't you seen them?"

"I haven't left the house." I glanced down
the drive, but my front fence was out of sight. That's the thing
about living in a suburb like Serendipity Bend. The properties were
huge and the fences a long way from the houses themselves. There
could have been a herd of elephants walking down our street and I
wouldn't know it.

"All the fences along Willow Crescent were
tagged overnight," Becky said.

"Tagged with graffiti? All of them?"

"Except yours."

I frowned. "Why not mine?"

"That's what Ellen Kavanagh wanted to
know."

Ellen Kavanagh was the matriarch of the
family, and an indomitable woman. She managed her own business and
it was doing extremely well, by all accounts. She'd been strict
when we were kids and a ferocious advocate for women's rights and
the preservation of Serendipity Bend. From her manicured
fingernails to her Prada heels, she was sharp and fierce. She
wasn't a woman I wanted to aggravate.

I headed down the drive, Becky beside me, and
through the iron gate. Unlike my neighbors, I left my gate open,
partly because I had nothing to steal so theft wasn't an issue, but
mostly because the intercom didn't work. All along the street were
signs of people cleaning graffiti off stone or brick fences. Not
members of the families themselves, but garden staff or someone
they'd hired in. Only my fence remained untouched, and one other
where the fence was a hedge, not brick or wood.

"Whoa," I said on a breath. "I wonder why the
street was targeted."

"I wonder why your place wasn't."

If I had to guess, it would be because
someone out there had seen yesterday's mayhem on the news and had
felt sorry for me. It was the classic David versus Goliath case,
and nobody ever sympathized with Goliath. Maybe they thought the
fight wasn't over and were expressing their anger at corporate
America squeezing out the little guy. Or maybe it was just someone
who saw all the big bare fences on TV and thought their artwork
would look good on them.

"That one's pretty good." I nodded at the
fence directly opposite. It sported a painting of a brightly
colored clown face with tears dripping down his cheeks. The rest of
the fences were merely tagged with the artist's signature, but that
one must have taken some time to complete, and in the dark of night
too. The proportions were all correct, and shadowing had been used
to great effect to highlight the clown's sad eyes and the teary
smudge through the white makeup. It was evocative, beautiful, and
made me want to give the poor clown a hug. I certainly didn't want
to scrub him off. Sadly, that's exactly what the man dressed in
orange overalls was doing.

"Have the police seen these?" I asked, hoping
to delay the process just a little longer.

Becky nodded and laughed. "You live in a
bubble, don't you?"

"I can't see the street from the house." I
shrugged one shoulder. "It's isolated and peaceful."

"Or lonely."

I blinked at her, but she didn't notice. She
was waving at her sister and Reece standing at the Kavanagh gate.
They waved back. Becky took my hand and dragged me over.

I steeled myself for my first proper
conversation with Reece since he'd called off the bulldozers. The
few minutes he'd spent telling me he would leave my house untouched
didn't count. I'd still been buzzing from the protest and my
encounter with Blake, and he'd been on a high after kissing Cleo.
Maybe he was going to tell me he'd changed his mind.

Cleo embraced me before I could even get "Hi"
out of my mouth. I glanced past her to Reece and he gave me a
sheepish smile.

"It's never quiet in Willow Crescent," he
said.

"What a mess," Cleo said, pulling away from
me. She nodded at the clown. "That one would look good on canvas,
but it doesn't really suit the street." We all stood with our backs
to the Kavanagh gate and looked at the sad clown.

"I don't know," Reece said. "There are a few
clowns living along here."

"Mega rich ones," Cleo said, hooking her arm
around his waist. "I bet they're not crying."

"Money can't buy happiness and all that." He
kissed the top of her head. She glanced up at him with so much love
in her eyes it hurt to be an outsider looking in. I felt like I was
intruding.

"Apparently your mother thinks I had
something to do with this," I said, crossing my arms.

Reece frowned. "No, she doesn't."

"But she is wondering why my fence wasn't
targeted."

"We all are," Cleo said. "But not because we
think you had anything to do with it."

It was easy to fight with a Kavanagh, but not
when a Denny joined forces with them. I liked Cleo and Becky. I
didn't want to argue with them. I let the matter drop.

"The police are inspecting the CCTV footage,"
Reece said, pointing out the security cameras attached to the
nearby gates. "They'll probably catch their suspect soon enough,
especially with that tag. It's pretty distinctive."

"I just hope the poor kid gets let off with a
warning," I said. "Graffiti is hardly a hard core crime."

"In that case, you'd better hope he doesn't
come back. There are some along here who want to see him given the
maximum sentence."

Figured. The residents of Willow Crescent—of
Serendipity Bend for that matter—prided themselves on their
manicured lawns and perfect hedges. If the graffitist were a poor
homeless kid like so many of them were, they wouldn't care what
happened to him as long as he stopped. They had never had to worry
about where the next meal was coming from or how to keep themselves
warm in winter. I included myself in that. I may not be as wealthy
as everyone else in the Bend, but I'd always had a roof over my
head. I did hope that I was more sympathetic than most,
particularly to a talented artist which our graffitist clearly
was.

"I was on my way to come and see you," Reece
said to me. "I've got a proposal for you."

"Kicking me out already?"

"I won't be going back on my word,
Cassie."

I swallowed and didn't say anything.

"I want to renovate," he said.

"So you said yesterday. You haven't changed
your mind?"

He smiled. "No. It needs work and I'm
worried—
we're
worried—it might fall down around you."

I was under no illusion that I had Cleo to
thank for this change in his attitude. "You don't have to," I told
him.

"I do. It's a landlord's responsibility.
Besides, I want to. If I let the property go now, it'll cost more
to fix it later. It's more economical to attend to problems before
they become major."

That attitude I understood. It sounded more
like the way Reece would think. He was all about the money and
protecting his investment, rather than ensuring I remained dry in a
downpour.

"Okay," I said. "Just let me know when the
builders will show up."

"That's the thing." He cleared his throat. "I
want to hire Blake."

"No!"

"Come on, Cass, please. He knows what he's
doing."

"I'm sure he does, but I don't care. I don't
want him around."

Cleo and Becky exchanged speaking glances.
"He needs something to do," Reece went on. "He's at a loose end,
and he's someone who needs work or he'll go mad. I'm worried—"

"I said no. Find him something else to do if
he's bored."

"Cassie," he said quietly, ominously. "It's
my property. If I want to employ my brother, I can."

"It's my
home
, not a
property
.
And as the tenant, I'm within my rights to refuse to have a
particular tradesman there." I didn't know if that were true or not
and I didn't care. The thought of having Blake within the same
walls as me was making me feel light-headed. It had been bad enough
seeing him yesterday, but to see him all day, every day, would turn
me into a pathetic mess. I couldn't let my students see me like
that. I couldn't let Blake see me like that. "I don't want him near
my house or me. Is that clear?"

"Abundantly," came a voice behind me as sharp
and cold as a steel blade. A voice that made me hot and cold all
over. Blake.

CHAPTER 2

I shut my eyes as my heart sank to my
stomach. I felt like the world's biggest bitch, even though I meant
every word. I didn't want Blake near me because his presence
screwed with my head. But if I'd known he was listening, I wouldn't
have said it so harshly. Hating Blake to his face was much harder
than hating him from afar.

"Cassie," Reece said. The plea in his voice
surprised me. Reece never pleaded. None of the Kavanaghs did.

"Forget it," Blake snapped at his brother. "I
told you she'd say no."

I heard the gravel crunch behind me as he
walked off. How had I not heard him approach? Either he'd already
been there or he was as stealthy as a cat when he wanted to be.
Maybe that was his top secret military training at work.

"Sorry," I muttered, as much to Reece as to
Cleo and Becky. It wasn't fair that they should be involved in our
dramas. "But I can't have Blake around, Reece. You know that."

Cleo's arm circled my shoulders. "It's partly
my fault. Ellen and I thought it would be a good idea to get you
two talking again."

"Ellen!" I put my hands up, warding the whole
darn lot of them off. "Cleo, don't get mixed up in Kavanagh crap,
okay?"

Reece bristled and she sighed. "We saw you
two talking yesterday," she said. "I admit to thinking you looked
like you belonged together."

"Clearly you weren't looking hard enough.
Blake and I are over. Too much water has passed under our bridge
and knocked the whole thing off its foundations. There's no going
back now."

She gave me a humorless, wincing smile. "I'm
sorry, Cassie."

I blew out a breath and, on impulse, clasped
her hand. She squeezed. The connection felt good, real, and I felt
bad for making her feel lousy. "Forget it. I know you meant well. I
owe you and Becky a lot. I didn't get a chance to thank you
properly, but I want you to know I appreciate your help. You two
were with me all weekend and in the thick of it yesterday. Not to
mention you convinced Reece that he was being an asshole."

Reece had the decency to blush a little. Cleo
laughed. "I'll make sure he's a good landlord from now on. Starting
with getting some contractors in to do the work. How about you make
up a list of the most urgent jobs and we'll see that they're
tackled one by one."

"I have a property manager for these things,
Cleo," Reece said, his eyes dancing with amusement.

"This is not
just
a property," Becky
butted in. "Like Cassie said, it's a home and a home requires a
personal touch. Cleo can oversee the builders."

"She'll be busy. I'm hiring her back as my
PA."

"I can manage," she told him. "Becky, you can
help."

"Me! Why me?"

"Because you've been asking to do more and
making rumblings about getting a job. Why not try this one on for
size?"

I nudged Becky. "Go on, do it. We'll get to
spend more time together."

"Okay."

I liked seeing her grin and I think her
sister did too. Becky may have been in remission now for over a
year, but Cleo had been treating her with kid gloves, not wanting
her to worry about the day-to-day things that most eighteen
years-olds should worry about. It was good to see that Cleo was
finally giving her some space. Becky was the sort of woman who
would soar if she got to spread her wings.

The two of us headed back to my place and
spent the afternoon making lists of jobs. It was a very long list.
It's a common misconception that the owners of Serendipity Bend
houses are rich, but that wasn't true in my family's case. My
great-grandparents had been the first to buy land in the street,
snatching a block while it was still reasonably priced. My
great-grandfather had built the house himself and, while not poor,
his financial situation wasn't on the same magnitude as the other
residents. My grandfather maintained the house during his lifetime,
but after his death, none of us had the skills to do the
labor-intensive repairs required, so Gran had to pay for them as
well as raise the three of us after our parents died. The costs
simply became too much and she let the repairs lapse. After she
died and my brother inherited the house outright, thanks to our
grandfather's antiquated ideas of male primogeniture, the repairs
still didn't get done. Lyle left Roxburg and squandered what money
he had, finally breaking his promise to Gran to allow me to stay in
the house. He sold it to Reece not long ago. I hadn't spoken to
Lyle about it since then. In fact, I hadn't spoken to my brother in
years, nor did I want to.