Waking Up with a Billionaire (The Overnight Billionaires Book 3) (21 page)

“Okay,” he said against the top of her head, “whose ass do I need to kick?”

She laughed through her tears. “How many times do I have to tell you that I can fight my own battles?”

He pulled back, his eyes serious. “Who or what upset you?”

She released a wobbly breath. “No one upset me. Girls can cry at the drop of a hat. Didn’t you know that?”

“I knew that about other girls. I didn’t know that about you.”

She sniffed. “Well, now you do.” She smiled, just because she felt like smiling. “I like your new subject.”

He returned her smile, and she felt even happier. “Deacon wants to give it to Olivia for her birthday.”

“She’ll love it. I bet she’ll love it as much as your dad would love you coming to his wedding.”

His eyes narrowed. “Deacon or Nash?”

“Nash, but I really do think you should go, Grayson. Family is important. You helped me figure that out. It’s only fair that I reciprocate.”

He released a sigh. “I’ll think about it. That’s all I can—”

Before he could finish, there was a noise that had both of them turning to the divan. The sight that greeted them was not pretty. It was, however, funny. At least to Chloe. While she burst out laughing, Grayson stared in horror at the mess his nephew had made of the couch.

“I am not cleaning that up.”

D
eirdre Beaumont knew how to throw a party. Everything about the charity benefit, from the gallery she’d chosen as the venue to the champagne being passed around by the waiters, was top-notch. Grayson had to admire the woman for pulling it all together so quickly and making it such a big success. Everyone who was anyone was in attendance, including the mayor, a senator, and a famous actress whose name escaped Grayson at the moment.

“She’s more beautiful in person than she is in the movies, isn’t she?”

He pulled his gaze away from the actress and turned to Chloe. Talk about beautiful, she looked like a movie star herself. The red evening gown she wore clung to her slim body like a second skin and offset her dark features. Her hair had been cut short again and was moussed back in a chic style that made her brown eyes appear twice as large…and twice as captivating. A man could lose himself in those eyes. Although as he stared into the chocolate depths, Grayson didn’t feel lost. For the first time in his life, he felt found. Like he knew who he was and where he was going.

“Did I tell you how stunning you look tonight?” he asked as he brushed a finger over her cheek.

She rolled her eyes, but a smile teased her lips. Lips that had been painted the ruby red of her dress. “Only about a hundred times. And those compliments would work much better if you weren’t staring at other women.”

“I was just trying to remember the actress’s name. But I love it when you’re jealous.”

Her brow knotted. “I am not jealous.”

“Really? Then why did you inform all the models at French Kiss to keep their hands off me or you’d punch their lights out?”

Her lips pouted. “I should’ve known they were all tattletales.”

He couldn’t help the satisfied grin that split his face. “So you did say it.”

“You should talk,” she grumbled. “At least I’m willing to let them pose for you. You won’t let anyone else photograph me but you.”

Grayson could’ve justified himself by saying that he had a certain vision for her photo shoots that only he could pull off. That’s what he had told his brothers—although if the smirk on Nash’s face was any indication, he hadn’t fallen for it. But maybe the time for justifying himself was over.

He slipped his hands around her waist and pulled her close. “I don’t want you posing for anyone else because I’m jealous as hell. Because I don’t want you giving them the same smiles…the same sexy looks…the same intense feelings you give me when you pose.”

It was hard to read the emotion that flickered in her eyes. Especially when she lowered them so quickly. But her words gave him the confirmation that he needed. The confirmation that she was falling as hard for him as he was for her.

“Okay then,” she said in a soft voice. “I won’t pose for anyone but you.” She carefully adjusted his tuxedo bow tie. “And I would appreciate it if you didn’t touch the women who pose for you.”

“No one has posed for me since you—except Michael. And that is the last time I paint that poopy kid. I still can’t get the smell out of my studio.”

She laughed. “It will be well worth it when Olivia sees the painting. It’s amazing, Grayson. And it proves that you don’t need to paint me to paint well.”

Unable to resist, he brushed a kiss over her lips. “I might not need to paint you, but I love to paint you. You are my muse, Chloe Cameron. Without you by my side, my painting means nothing.” He leaned in for another kiss, but before he could deepen it, Deirdre Beaumont walked up, displaying more diamonds than a Cartier store window. The only things not sparkling were her eyes.

“That will be enough of that,” she said. “As the artist, you need to be mingling and pushing people to bid on your paintings, Grayson.” She looked at Chloe. “And as the model of the main attraction, you need to be doing the same thing.” She glanced over her shoulder at the crowd that had formed around Chloe’s painting. “Although I don’t think they’re going to need much pushing. We already have numerous bidders on the painting of the famous French Kiss model Chloe Cameron.”

Chloe eyes widened. “You told people that I’m the model? But I asked you not to use my name.”

Deirdre waved a hand. “I do not honor ridiculous requests. And that was a ridiculous request. Your body is beautiful, and the painting is breathtaking. People knowing that it’s a famous model’s body will make it sell twice as fast.”

“Well, I’d like to know how you’d feel if everyone in this room knew what you looked like naked,” Chloe said.

“Posh.” Deirdre took a flute of champagne from a passing waiter. “You’re not exactly naked. The sheet covers more of your body than your catalog photos. Which seems rather odd since Grayson’s other paintings of women show a lot more skin.” Her eyes narrowed on Grayson. “It almost makes me wonder if there’s not another painting.”

There were several paintings he’d refused to show her, and all displayed a lot more skin than the one he’d given Deirdre for the auction. But those paintings were for his viewing pleasure. He didn’t like sharing Chloe. Even now he had to stifle the strong urge to walk over and take the painting off the wall and carry it right out the door. There were only two things that kept him from doing it: The money it was making for charity. And the plan he’d devised to be the winner of the silent auction.

“I promised you a painting, Deirdre,” he said, “and you got one.”

She studied him. “Yes, I did, didn’t I? Well, enough of this chitchat.” She downed the champagne and handed the glass to a waiter before she took Chloe’s arm. “Come on, dear. It’s time to get over your shyness and make some money for cancer research.”

“If one guy says anything sexual to me, I’m punching him,” Chloe said.

“If anyone is that vulgar,” Deirdre said, “I’ll hold him while you do so.”

Once they were gone, Grayson headed over to the painting to see how the bidding was going. Deirdre was right. There were numerous bids on the auction sheet right next to the bidders’ numbers. He looked for the number he’d been assigned and was happy to see it numerous times, including in the very last entry for a hundred thousand dollars. His eyes widened. It looked like he was going to have to part with more money than he’d planned.

“Checking to see how much your talent is worth, little brother?”

He looked up to see Nash walking toward him with Deacon. Both of his brothers wore the same style of black tuxedo he had on, and standing all together, they must’ve looked like identical penguins. Nash elbowed Grayson out of the way and glanced at the bid sheet before releasing a low whistle through his teeth.

“Looks like your paintings are worth much more than the pictures of Batman you used to sell to the kids at Cypress Elementary. What did you sell those for? Ten cents?”

Grayson grinned at the memory. “Twenty-five cents. I made a good fifteen dollars and sixty-five cents on that venture.”

Always the businessman, Deacon questioned the number. “How did you end up with fifteen sixty-five if each picture sold for twenty-five cents?”

“Cheryl Tate only had fifteen cents, so I made an exception.”

Deacon laughed. “You’ve come a long way since then, haven’t you?”

Nash slapped both his brothers on the back. “We all have.”

They exchanged smiles and enjoyed their success for a moment before Deacon brought them back to the present. “You’ve certainly outdone yourself tonight, Gray. I thought Nash was the marketing genius, but this charity event was a brilliant idea. And with the buzz this painting has caused, people are going to be chomping at the bit to watch Chloe walk the runway.”

“I’m interested to see how that goes myself,” Nash said with a mischievous sparkle in his eye.

“What are you up to, Nash?” Grayson asked. “You’ve had that same devious look in your eye for the last few days. It’s like you know something that no one else does.”

“Now what would I know that you don’t, little brother?” Nash said before he quickly changed the subject. “Dad called today and wants to make sure that we’re all there for the wedding on Saturday. So are you done throwing a tantrum, Gray?”

Grayson should be done throwing his tantrum. He knew he was being childish and ridiculous, but he just couldn’t come to terms with Donny John’s remarrying. Which was why he grasped for any reason not to attend the wedding. “I just think that someone needs to stay here and hold down the fort. Especially with the fashion show being so close.”

Deacon studied him for no more than a second before issuing an order. “We’ll all be at the wedding, and that’s final.”

“Deke is right,” Nash said. “Donny John wasn’t exactly the best father after Mom died, but lately he’s been making the effort to change. So I think it’s only fair that we make the effort too. And speaking of fathers.” He glanced at Deacon. “You’re looking a little more alert these days, Deke. Is Michael finally sleeping?”

“Not the entire night, but at least for a few hours at a pop.”

“So I guess all those books you read finally paid off.”

Deacon started to nod, but then stopped and released his breath. “To be honest, they didn’t help worth a damn. Newborn babies seem to have a mind of their own. They eat when they want. They poop when they want. And they sleep when they want. The only thing parents can do is try to survive.”

Grayson and Nash exchanged looks before they laughed.

“I don’t know what you two think is so funny,” Deacon said. “It won’t be long before both of you will be sleepless in San Francisco.”

“We’re not laughing about your predicament, Deke,” Nash said. “We’re laughing because you were so convinced that you had everything handled. That you could train Mikey like a hunting dog.”

“A hunting dog?” Olivia strolled up, looking radiant for a new mother who had had little sleep. She kissed Grayson on the cheek before doing the same to Nash. “I certainly hope you don’t think that you can train our son like a hunting dog, Deacon Beaumont.”

“Of course not, Livy,” Deacon said as he tucked his wife against his side. “Nash was just being a wiseass. And speaking of Michael, you need to call the sitter and tell her that she read him the wrong book.
The Very Hungry Caterpillar
gives him indigestion if you read it to him before he goes to sleep.”

“And just how do you know what book the sitter read him?”

Deacon pulled out his phone. “Because I had Nash set up cameras in his room. You didn’t think I’d leave my only son with some random sitter you hired without being able to keep an eye on things, did you?” He tapped his phone and turned it so they could see. The screen was divided into two pictures of Michael’s room. One showed Michael swaddled in a blanket and sleeping in his crib, and the other showed a grandmotherly woman knitting in the rocking chair next to the crib.

Olivia looked at the pictures for a long moment before she stood on her tiptoes and kissed Deacon’s cheek. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re a very loving man? Controlling, but loving.” She rested her head on his shoulder as they both studied the phone as if their sleeping son were the number one YouTube sensation.

Grayson had never given much thought to kids until he’d had Michael for an hour so he could paint him. Despite the pooping incident, he was a cute little guy. And looking at Deacon and Olivia’s awed faces, he couldn’t stop the longing that welled up inside him. A longing to one day stand next to his child’s crib and watch him, or her, sleep while Chloe rested her head on his shoulder.

“I guess he only stays awake with his parents,” Deacon said.

Olivia smiled. “Probably because we’re such interesting people.” She lifted her head. “And speaking of interesting people, Mother certainly invited some tonight. I just met an extremely interesting older gentleman when I stopped to bid on Chloe’s painting.”

“You bid on Chloe’s painting?” Deacon asked as he slipped his phone back in his tuxedo pocket. “As proud as I am of Grayson’s talent, we already have three of his nudes that we’re going to have to figure out where to hide when Michael gets older. And he just painted a picture of—anyway, I don’t understand why we need another one.”

“I didn’t bid for us.” She looked at Grayson, and he had little doubt that she was about to spill the beans. “Eden, Madison, and I have been doing exactly what you asked. We’ve been staking out the silent auction sheet and outbidding the highest bid, but there seems to be another person who wants the painting as much as you do. And we weren’t sure how high you wanted us to go.”

“Who’s the bidder?” he asked, now more concerned about being outbid than about what his brothers thought of his bidding on his own painting.

“I’m not sure. But I think it could be the man I was telling you about. Bob seemed very interested in the painting—even if his grandson Gavin wasn’t.”

Grayson wasn’t surprised that some of Chloe’s relatives were in attendance. Especially Gavin. He’d been expecting a visit from the older cousin since he and Chloe had gone to the vineyard. Although he would’ve preferred their first meeting to have taken place without the nude picture of Chloe. But since there was no help for it now, he excused himself and went in search of the Camerons.

He found Chloe’s grandfather first. Bob had dressed for the occasion and looked like a typical Texas millionaire in his expensive Western suit and big tan cowboy hat. He stood at the bar with Madison, telling her a story that had her laughing so hard that tears rolled down her cheeks.

“…I kid you not,” he said. “That bull chased me all the way to Drucker’s farm—me dodging his horns and yelling at the top of my lungs.” Bob finally noticed Grayson. “Well, there is the man of the hour.” He clapped an arm over Grayson’s shoulders. “Good to see you, son.” He winked at Madison. “Why didn’t you tell me that San Francisco had such pretty ladies? I would’ve been to visit much sooner.”

Madison sent him a flirty smile. “I’m sure you say that to all the ladies, Bobby.”

“Only the ones that laugh at my stories.” He glanced at Grayson. “Can I get you a drink, son?”

“No, thank you,” he said. “I heard you brought Gavin with you, and I wanted to introduce myself.”