His Fire Inside

“So you really are a billionaire?” The words are said slowly.

Relief fills me; she had no real idea. While I was pretty sure she didn’t give a fuck about my money, to confirm it is nice. “Yep, as of

three years ago. It’s why I decided to start traveling and see the world. I’d achieved a goal I never thought I would hit. I wanted to enjoy it while I still have the years to do it.”

“Wait, you never wanted to be a billionaire?”

“It wasn’t the goal. The goal was to have fuck-you money, enough money to say fuck you to the family my mother abandoned me for, to say fuck you to the family who abandoned Cheryl who became my mother, to say fuck you to my ex-fiancée who wanted to go on a break when I left Stanford to go into the Army, then broke it off entirely while I was in the hospital.”

I shrug. “I just wanted enough to make them all regret what they had done. But once I started it was actually hard to stop working. I was so focused, I didn’t see anything else. Even with the festival, it’s work, I don’t get as much pleasure in what it has become as I used to.

“Then when I started traveling I still ended up working, but it was actually fun, there were no timetables. I enjoyed taking my time. I had no intention of keeping the hotels I bought, and there was a freedom to that I didn’t know I was looking for.”

Her hand runs over my thigh. “You showed everyone. Gorgeous, at the top, you definitely can say fuck you. Are you missing the flipping thing?”

“Maybe a little, it was fun. Today, I’m going back and forth over a contract for a property the guy thinks he’s going to talk me down on. It’s not going to happen. There is no real challenge anymore. When doing a hotel, I make something old and ugly pretty and shiny and leave it for someone else to take care of.”

“Sounds like you prefer leaving the responsibility to others.” A little frown appears between her eyes.

“With a hotel the responsibility is pretty large. It’s also harder these days to make a large profit. I already have three hotels I’m responsible for, then there’s the international travel. Things like currency exchanges and laws about foreigners are different from country to country.”

She nods. “It sounds like a lot to deal with.”

“Very much so.” A scream comes from the television. “I really do like Crowley.”

“Me too!” Her eyes light up. “Dean is my favorite most of all. For a while Castiel was my second favorite, but by the time he—well, I don’t want to give spoilers, but I loved him more than Castiel.”

“Do they kill off Crowley?”

“I don’t want to say.” Olivia purses her lips

“Whatever, they’ll bring him back anyway like they did with Bobby.”

“Just watch.” She smacks my lips with hers. I don’t argue, enjoying the feel of her pressed up against me. Loving the way something as simple as takeout and television is the best damn thing because of Olivia.

18

Olivia

Stretching, I hate discovering Rourke is already up and gone for the day. I love waking up in his arms. I love even more the slow, sleepy sex we have. Turning over, I see it’s almost noon. Damn. Although as I slide out of bed it sounds right, we were up late last night. Not only did we break in the sheets, we broke in the couch and the ottoman and the kitchen island. I’m pleasantly sore.

After a long shower I eat breakfast or lunch or whatever it is by now then go for a swim. By the time I’m out the soreness has faded a little. Which is good because I’ll be on the back of Gabe’s bike tonight. With that in mind I go into my closet to find something nice enough for dinner at a nice place, a show, and that I can wear on the back of a motorcycle.

Since it’s so rare for me to stay in a fourteen for long, I don’t have many options. I’m actually more a twelve in some things, and size sixteen pants are sliding right off. Crap, another day of shopping. I know most women enjoy shopping, but I’m not one of those women.

Rourke calls as I’m getting dressed to leave. “Hey.”

“Hi, sweetheart, I can’t talk long. I just wanted to tell you I hope you have a good time with your brother tonight. I’ll be home around eight or so.”

“Okay, I’ll be home later than that. The show doesn’t start until seven, so it will be around eight thirty I guess. Gabe will be ready to be done with me as soon as it’s over. Knowing him, he’s double booked with some chick right after he drops me off.”

He laughs. “All right, I’ll make sure I grab something on the way home. I have to go.”

“Okay, bye.”

***

Rourke