Billionaire on the Loose (Page 73)

“No. But there probably ain’t gorgeous stuff on my background check, if you know what I’m saying.”

“Then I’ll pay you like shit. Room and board and minimum wage or some other equally terrible deal if it’ll make you feel better.” Loch sipped his drink again, waiting for Rex to mull over the offer. “It’s not charity. I’m going to hire someone to look after my horses because I love riding. Might as well be you unless you can give me a good reason for it not to be you. I like to hire friends.”

Rex’s mouth pursed. He stared ahead for a long time. Then slowly, he nodded. “Thanks, man. I . . . I appreciate it.” He looked over at Loch. “You gonna go around saving every hobo in New York? That’s gonna end up being some big-ass house.”

“No, but I imagine I’ll need a groundskeeper and a few other staff if you have any friends that are struggling. You can tell them the pay is wretched but it’s room and board included. And it probably won’t be in the city. I can’t see having horses close to here. Might be too far out for most to bother with.”

“I’ll let you know. And if it’s going to be that far out, I might need another dollar or two an hour so I can afford a car . . . or at least a bicycle.”

“Fair enough. We’ll talk price when I buy the place and move in.” Loch felt good. This was good. It was a start. Plus, he was being selfish—if Rex worked for him, he’d get the pleasure of his company every day, and he enjoyed their chats. They made him think. He needed that in his life, needed people to point out to him that he was being a spoiled child. “Might be a couple of weeks.”

“Well, you know where I’ll be,” Rex said dryly.

“Can I put you up somewhere until then?” At the dirty look Rex shot him, Loch raised his hands in the air. “All right, all right. One step at a time.”

They fell into a comfortable silence as the waitress refilled their glasses and then dropped off their plates. Loch took a bite of his grilled cheese. A bit greasy, but still tasty.

“So,” Rex said, eating a French fry. “Tell me more about the girl. It didn’t work out with her?”

“No.” Loch sighed and wiped his hands on his napkin, immediately losing his appetite. He’d had a hell of a time eating since Taylor had left him. “She got upset with me, and rightfully so. I should have fixed it then, but I let her walk away. Went home to lick my wounds. Kinda thought it was for the best, except . . .”

“Except you miss her.”

He nodded. “I miss her like I miss air. I shouldn’t have let her go. I didn’t realize until after she left that things between us were a little more real than I’d thought. I need to find her and win her back.”

“So do it.”

“I’m trying , but she won’t return my calls. Rightfully so, I might add.” He set his greasy sandwich down and stared at his plate. “I’m not sure how to get ahold of her.”

“Well, you’re doing me a solid, so I can do you a solid,” Rex said agreeably.

“That so?” Loch wiped his fingers absently, thinking about Taylor. She’d probably like Rex. And any horses that Loch bought. Though he’d have to get one for her, too, and it’d have to be gentle. Something high-spirited would dump her on the ground in an instant, his poor klutz. Providing she ever spoke to him again, of course. A hard, aching knot formed in his throat.

“Yeah, I know where she works.”

Loch paused. He turned to look at Rex, who was dragging fries through a pool of ketchup on his plate and then stuffing them into his mouth. “You do?”

“I do,” Rex said. “Ran across her the other day. You told me she wears a Doctor Who scarf and a kitty-cat backpack, right? Can’t be that many adult women that do that sort of thing. Plus, she was real cute. Brown hair? Round face?”

Loch nodded slowly, eyes wide. His heart thumped hard in his chest. “Where is she?”

Rex gestured at his food. “Lemme finish my food and I’ll show ya.”

***

When they left the diner, Rex led Loch down several streets teeming with pedestrians. He followed the man, pulse hammering wildly. Taylor was close, and he was dying to speak to her again. He wanted to look at her sweet face, to hear her happy laugh. To see her bright eyes sparkle when she found something funny.

God, he missed her. It was like being homesick all over again, except this time, Taylor was his home, and he was lost without her.

Rex stopped on a busy street corner, next to the crosswalk. He gestured across the street. “Over there. She’s been there every day for the last week giving out samples. Nice kid. She gives me extras and pretends like they’re leftovers.” He squinted up at Loch. “Don’t fuck it up this time.”

Loch gazed across the busy, traffic-filled street. There was a small table set up on a curb and he could see the back of a woman as she talked to people and made notes on a clipboard. She seemed to be handing something out. It was impossible to make out any features from this distance, but he noticed her trademark scarf and backpack.

Taylor.

His woman. His fiancée for a few days, until he’d fucked things up and didn’t realize what he’d had until he’d screwed it up. The sight of her made him ache with longing. She was beautiful, and the way she moved as she handed out samples and spoke to people just made his entire body tense with this uncomfortable, awkward need. Not sexual desire—though it wouldn’t take much for that—but just . . . a craving. Like a junkie.