Billionaire's Accidental Wife

Chapter 22

If she’d thought Dave had looked good in that T-shirt while at Sebastian’s house one year ago –well,

shut her mouth. And open it again, because those dimples were in danger of making Chelsea’s jaw hit

the floor. How could he look so good in a suit?

He wore a dark navy suit, the jacket unbuttoned and the scarlet silk of his shirt making his skin almost

glow. He’d tugged off his tie in the heat and was now absentmindedly wrapping it around and around

his strong, graceful hands. His gorgeous eyes seemed to sparkle in the faint light of the torches and

fireworks, and his hair fell in defiant curls around his face. A hint of stubble graced his cheeks, just

enough to rasp against someone’s skin if he leaned down to claim their mouth with those full, pouty

lips… Oops, Shawn was saying words. She should probably pay attention to Richmond’s words and

not Dave’s lips and notice how Jane and Catherine are eying her like a mother hen. Though Dave’s lips

were definitely more interesting.

He’s got a company to run, Chelsea reminded herself. He’s off-limits, and also, he’s a jerk! He chose

his work over hers. Like, who does that? One minute he was telling her he bloody loved her, and the

next he told her that she needed to stay away from him for a while.

Jerk!

She reminded herself that she had instituted a strict no-jerk policy! All jerks must be put in checked

luggage; if she attempts to board this relationship with a jerk, Security will ask her to step out from the

line. “-all in the museum together,” Shawn was explaining to Jane. “Dave, my wife and I played Indian

Jones together in Thailand. If I’d taken either of their advice back then, i’d have made my fortune a lot

sooner.” Shawn joked.

The rest chuckled while Dave never left his gaze at Chelsea. Jane gazes at them with genuine curiosity

while drinking her tequila. “Pleasure to meet you all.” the dark man said to them. While Dave took

Chelsea’s hand and kissed it. “Nice to meet you again, Chelsea” Catherine and Jane’s eyebrows

climbed so high they could have formed their own airline. Dave took her hand. “Stop being a jerk,

Dave,” she said shortly, pulling her hand away. “Dave, did you forget your manners again?” Catherine

asked. “He likes to put on the whole Prince Charming act now, but way way back home, he couldn’t

speak two words to girls that weren’t ‘move, you’re blocking the Twilight chronicles or whatever those

nerdy guys called.” “Catherine, please,” Dave said, starting to look embarrassed. “This one time,” Dave

started, a wicked grin blooming on her face, “he didn’t know his crush from the debate team was in the

lobby, and he was racing down the stairs, skinny arms flailing in the wind-you should have seen him

before he got into body-building, a toothpick could have taken him in a boxing match—”

C22

“Don’t go digging up my tragic past, sister,” Dave said with a laugh, giving Catherine a friendly punch in

the shoulder. His face took on a mischievous cast, and his slightly awkward. smile widened. “Unless

you want me to bring up that incident with you, the sorority, the drunk homeless man, ice cream, and

the fire department.” Catherine shot a fake-panicked look at Jane and Chelsea, who rolled their eyes.

Shawn retorted with a smile. “Another tale of your misspent youth? I’ve probably heard worse.

“I think I’ll play it safe,” Catherine said, “and change the subject. Where’s your lovely date, Dave? Have

you met her, Chelsea?” Jane raised her brow and winked at Catherine. Chelsea, however, put on her

best blank I-don’t -care-look

HI

She was about to say she had not when suddenly a blonde woman who was fifteen pounds too thin

and three inches too short to be Daniella Gray shot out of the crowd and wrapped herself around Dave,

nestling her head onto his shoulder and letting out a contented little murmur. He had another girl

already? Or in addition? This guy gave ‘player’ such a new name that they were going to have to add

another page to the entry in the encyclopedia. “Oh, there you are, Davey dear!” she simpered like a

little lost kitten. “Ugh, this charity ball is such a drag! And oh my God, books. Like, what are poor kids

even going to do with books? Can they even, like, read? Aren’t they all on crack?” Chelsea breathed in

harder and raised her eyebrows at Dave. Everyone froze for a second. They could see the thoughts

slowly travelling across their faces as they wondered if they had really heard what they thought they

had just heard, and if so, whether they should laugh, yell, or cry. Dave looked like he sincerely hoped

the ground would open up beneath him and he would be kidnapped by Santa before he had to figure

out how to respond.

“Excuse me,” Chelsea said as straight-faced as she could. “I think I need more drinks. Yes. A drink.

Bye!” And she fled behind the kitchen area where no one could see her. Ten minutes later, when

Chelsea had recovered, she poked her head back out and surveyed the scene. The coast was clear;

Dave and his bimbo…she wanted to say ‘date,’ but ‘disaster’ seemed so much more accurate…

seemed to have fled. Jane was nowhere to be seen either, but Catherine and Shawn were still lounging

hand in hand where she had seen them last.

She paused for a moment before going to rejoin them, just watching them, so in love and so

unselfconscious. Shawn teases Catherine by holding a chocolate-dipped strawberry just too high for

her to grab and then kisses her gently before feeding it to her himself. Catherine laughs and relaxes

into his arms, her eyes closing in delighted contentment. Catherine had her man and her kids, and she

loved them both beyond reason. It was the whole package.

And sometimes, Chelsea couldn’t help but wonder if her whole package had gotten lost in the mail.

She set her shoulders and told herself to stop wallowing. She had more important things to focus on. It

didn’t matter if achieving her dream took years or even decades; she had set her mind and heart on it,

and she was going to do it. She was going to fuck the hell out of her fate.

And hey, in the meantime, there was always champagne. She snagged a glass off a passing waiter’s

tray, and he turned to her with a grin like electricity. Oh, hello, cute waiter from before. Still looking twice

as delicious and intoxicating as the champagne he was carrying. “So,” he said with a French drawl that

had her contemplating how that voice might sound coming from between her thighs, “what’s a pretty

lady like you doing in a place like this?” Well, if he was going to flirt with her first, she definitely wasn’t

going to cling to any reservations about flirting with him. “Oh, nothing much,” she answered back,

coming forward and letting her hand rest lightly on his arm. “Just… admiring the scenery.” Dreams are

hard things to achieve. It was a good thing life was stocked with so many pleasant distractions.

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