An Accidental Date with a Billionaire

Not too long ago, he would have said no.

But now…he wasn’t so sure.

“You don’t have to answer that, never mind,” Sam said, probably mistaking his silence for evasion rather than introspection.

Tearing his attention off the family, he finally answered her question. “He died when I was four. My sister was a newborn. A drunk driver hit him when he was walking home from work. He never even saw it coming, from what I’ve been told.”

She touched his hand, her fingers lingering over his. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, me too.” He cleared his throat. “I don’t remember him at all, but supposedly he was a great guy. I guess it’s true. I mean, why else would my mother mourn him for the rest of her life, right?”

“Love,” she said quietly.

He twisted his lips. “I guess.”

“Do you believe in love?” she asked quietly.

“Yes and no.” He cut into his omelet. “I believe that people love one another, and that they have feelings, but I don’t believe in soul mates or any of that shit. I don’t believe that my mother couldn’t have found more love in her life if she wanted to. If you can fall in love once, and you lose that love, why not just go out and get another?”

She choked on a laugh. “I don’t think the modern image of love is replaceable like that.”

“If it isn’t, why do so many people remarry or date new people?” He lifted a shoulder. “Seems pretty damn replaceable to me. Why else have a type?”

She blinked. “What do you mean?”

“Everyone likes a certain type of person and gravitates toward that, right?” he asked. “Blonde. Brunette. Slim. Curvy. Funny. Quiet. We all have a type we find attractive.”

She nodded.

“So, if you lose the ‘love of your life’ to death or divorce or whatever, just go out, find a new blonde, or redhead, or artist—whatever gets your rocks off—and try again until you get it right. Eventually, one of them will stick around.”

“You can’t just go around buying people at the store and returning them until you find the right fit. People’s time can be bought,” she argued. “Not the person themselves.”

He lifted a brow. “I politely disagree. Everyone can be bought, for a price.”

She didn’t answer.

Chapter Thirteen

The next night, Sam was still no closer to being tired of Taylor than she’d been when she went home with him the first night. They’d just finished eating and were curled up on the couch with each other in front of the fireplace, watching the flames dance against the brick backdrop.

Taylor’s home was starting to feel like—well, home.

The floors were no longer overkill. The fire no longer seemed lavish. The soft leather wasn’t exotically soft to her, but rather how leather was supposed to be. Little by little, she was getting accustomed to the lifestyle that Taylor lived, just like she feared.

Was she losing herself?

“Camping?” he asked, his voice tight. “You can’t be serious.”

She smiled, loving the sound of pure horror in his voice, and turned off the fear that plagued her. “Not just camping, but also rebuilding nature trails, since they’ve been destroyed by disrespectful people over the past few years. We’re hoping to give underprivileged kids a place to enjoy nature, right here in the city. Isn’t that amazing?”

He stared blankly at her.

“Don’t worry, we’ll have a tent.”

Taylor crossed his arms. “Oh, yay. That makes me feel so much better.”

She couldn’t help it. This time, she full-on laughed at him. “Have you never been camping?”