The Billionaire's Matchmaker(13)

In Chandler’s Cove, he’d been invisible. People in that town still talked about his father, adding T.J. as an afterthought to the conversation. T.J. had never wanted the public accolades his father had and had managed to keep his own success mostly off the radar by limiting media interviews and keeping his name out of press releases. All good choices, it turned out, for his cover story with Gabby. But he knew the lies would be that much more hurtful when he finally came clean.

What had seemed like a good idea a few days ago now soured in his gut. Damn.

“T.J.? Does that plan work?”

He jerked his attention back to her and tried to stuff the guilty feelings away. “Sure, sure. Sounds great.”

She smiled, and a part of him warmed deep inside. Damn, she had a nice smile. One that lit her features from within, sparkled in her eyes. For the hundredth time, he was glad he’d gone on this trip with her. However it all ended, he’d have the memory of her smile. “Deal.”

A few minutes later, T.J. returned to the car. “Good news and bad news. There’s some big convention in town and every motel and hotel in a thirty-mile radius is booked.”

She made a face. “What’s the good news?”

“They had one room left.” He dropped a keycard into Gabby’s palm.

She turned it over. “One room? But…but…we can’t… Where will you sleep?”

“I’m not picky. I’ll just stay here.” He indicated the Toyota’s passenger seat.

“T.J., it’s January. In Nebraska. You can’t sleep in the car.” She closed her palm over the key. “Listen, why don’t you share with me? We should be able to share a bed for a night and not have…anything happen.”

“Even after that kiss?”

Her face reddened and her gaze flickered away. “Well, we just won’t do that again.”

“Because we’re grownups. Right?”

“Exactly.” Gabby climbed out of the car and grabbed her backpack and overnight bag from the backseat. Charlie hopped down beside her, waited for his leash to get clipped on, then followed her to the room. T.J. trotted to catch up to them and held the door for Gabby after she unlocked it. “Thanks.”

“Anytime.”

“You know, you don’t have to play the gentleman thing with me,” she said. “I’ve known you forever.”

“That doesn’t mean you don’t deserve to be treated with a little chivalry.”

“It’s been so long since I’ve seen any of that, I thought it was extinct.” She flashed him another of her smiles as she brushed past him and into the room.

T.J. stepped inside and shut the door before the cold invaded the space. Typical motel room—decorated in Early Depressing. Tan carpet, threadbare tan quilted bedspread, and a framed print on the wall that was supposed to be of happy red carnations and orange mums but had faded to colors that blended with the rest of the desert-colored décor. The air smelled of old buildings mingled with something like gym sweat. “Well, I’ll give you one thing. It’s better than sleeping in the car.”

“Not to mention the great company you’ll have.” Her lips curved, and something in T.J.’s gut flipped.

“There is that.” And it was a nice bonus, he decided.

Gabby set her things on the faded mauve armchair in the corner, then shrugged out of her coat and kicked off the zebra boots. She stretched, arching her back, which thrust out her breasts and hips and sent T.J.’s mind down a thought train that began with foreplay and ended with fantasy.

“I’m so glad to be out of the car,” she said.

“Me, too.” He tried not to stare at the enticing cleavage exposed by the V in her T-shirt. His mind flashed an image of her beneath him, her body slick with sweat, skin soft and warm, as she arched her back and he slid into her—

“Do you know Mr. Bonaparte well?”

Her question jerked him back to reality. They were two friends sharing a room. Platonic. Well, almost platonic. Not after that unforgettable kiss. “I don’t know Mr. Bonaparte very well,” he said, remembering his ruse and the reason he’d given Gabby for needing a ride. He was supposed to be poor, unemployed, on his way to a job interview. Not meeting with wealthy men to talk about providing them with customized computer security solutions. “I’ve been thinking of getting into the security software industry, and he said if I was in the area to stop by and he’d talk to me about anti-hacking protections.”

“Anti-hacking? Does he work for the White House or something?”

“Defense contractor, I think. I don’t usually ask.”

“My friends and I are always speculating about that billionaire on the hill. He’s definitely a topic for gossip around town.” Gabby perched on the edge of the seat. “What’s he like? Mr. B.?”

“Haven’t you met him?”

She shook her head. “He’s lived in town for a few months now and no one I know has met him. He’s…reclusive, like he’s a hunchback living in a tower.”

T.J. chuckled. “I can attest to one thing. He’s definitely not a hunchback. But I don’t really know much more than that. I dealt mostly with Cyrus. While I was at the house, Bonaparte only put in a brief appearance. He stuck to the back of the room and stayed in the shadows. Almost like he was—”