Wild Open Hearts (Bluewater Billionaires) - Kathryn Nolan Page 0,56

heard—Luna’s car crunching over the gravel in our driveway, I thought I was dreaming.

She was real though. It was barely seven in the morning and Luna was striding toward me with a cup of coffee in her hand and a bag that smelled delicious. She was makeup-less and smiling at me in the sunshine.

A dream, indeed.

“An apology coffee,” she said, pressing it into my hands. “And apology donuts.”

“What are you apologizing for?” I asked.

“Can I come in?” she asked, biting her lip.

I opened the door to my office, tilted my head to invite her inside. She slid past me, keeping our bodies apart, and settled on the old couch along the back wall.

“From Carbs ’n Coffee,” she said. “I figured you for a classic old-fashioned donut and black coffee.”

Impressed, I opened the bag. Held out a piece for her. “I ate two vegan ones on the way over.”

I settled on the edge of my desk. “Thank you,” I said.

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I felt really weird when you left last night. And as you know, I’m trying to correct my mistakes, analyze my actions more. And I…” She paused, took a deep breath. “I think taking you to the enclave without talking to you about it first was an unnecessary power dynamic shift. To be clear, I’m not apologizing for my success. I earned that mansion.”

“I kind of… wanted you to.”

“I know you did,” she said, smiling more broadly than I expected. “Operating in this world as a billionaire is one thing. Doing it as a woman is another. I take that responsibility seriously and I never want to feel ashamed for achieving something that men get to do all the time.”

I sipped the coffee, turning this over. “I agree. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, really,” she said. “Because beyond that, on a personal level, I get why it made you pissed off or uncomfortable or whatever. Like I was throwing it in your face. I’d never, ever do that to you on purpose, Beck. But I was probably doing it unconsciously.”

“I think I was kind of being a dick though,” I admitted.

“And I think I was kind of being insensitive though,” she said, eyebrow lifted.

I took another sip, my eyes on her luminous ones. “Would you call this the nice kind of impasse?”

“I think so.” She bit her lip. “I’m really sorry, Beck.”

“I’m sorry, Luna,” I said.

“Friends again?” She held her hand out, indicating for me to shake. I shook it like we had that first day. And like that first day, my fingers wrapped around her small wrist, her palm touching mine like a shock. The interesting kind. I let my thumb stroke across her inner wrist. Her breathing hitched.

“Friends,” I said roughly. Tried not to indulge the fantasy that called to me with Luna looking so pretty in my office. Of sinking to my knees and spreading her bare legs. Showing her with my mouth how much I appreciated her honesty.

“Tell me about Bluewater,” I said instead. “I want to know about where you live.”

“You sure you’re interested?” she asked.

I nodded. Sipped.

“My three best friends are also billionaires,” she said. “We wanted a place that was for us. We wanted to be neighbors so we could see each other all the time. Daisy, who’s a real estate mogul, created a design that was pretty epic. So now we live with a bunch of weird and kooky rich people.” She smiled. “At the end of the day, the four of us at least have each other, to listen when we’re victims of misogyny or harassment or manipulation from our male peers. Friends help. Feeling safe helps.” Luna leaned in like she was sharing a secret. “Also we accidentally designed the bay that our four houses face to look like a uterus.”

I coughed around my coffee. “You’re serious?”

“Totally,” she said. “And our street? It’s one of the ovaries.”

I laughed for real, releasing a day’s worth of odd tension. She giggled, sitting back against the couch. “I’m not joking. I live on a street shaped like an ovary with my three best friends. As you know, celebrating the beauty of the female form is a priority of mine.”

If someone had told me a month ago that I’d be sitting with an extremely rich woman, joking about ovaries and drinking a coffee she’d brought me… I would have called that person a damned liar.

“To have friends like that, family like that,” I said, “well, you’re lucky. They don’t