Free The Billionaire Boyfriend Proposal: A Kavanagh Family Novel by Kendra Little

years ago. He'd tossed away my feelings as if they didn't
matter as much as Reece's. He'd accused me of being wrong, of
wanting to hurt someone because I was hurting. And when I couldn't
process all my dark emotions let alone voice them, when I needed
him most, he'd left me.
    No way was I going to feel guilty for
shutting him out of my heart. He didn't know how fragile it was, or
that exposing myself to pain again was more than I could bear. My
parents, Wendy, Lyle, Gran and then Blake…I'd loved them all and
they were all gone. Except Blake had come back—but for how
long?
    I made myself pancakes then cooked a batch
more. I should go and see if he was okay. He and Robbie.
After all, they were my guests and a good hostess always checked on
her guests and fed them. The sooner I got this first awkward
meeting out of the way, the better, and we could return to the
comfortable place we'd been in before last night happened.
    It was nice out, sunny. The river, just
visible between the trees, glinted like a diamond amid the pretty
setting of weeping willows and wildflowers. I loved Serendipity
Bend. Sure, it was inhabited by the aloof and privileged, but there
was something so calming about the slow, easy glide of water with
the dragonflies flitting over the surface, and the ancient trees
with their thick trunks and shady canopies. They'd been great to
climb as a kid or to hide behind. Now they were familiar friends to
sit against while sketching.
    "Hey," came a warm, male voice. I hadn't
heard Blake approach. He stood a few feet away near the front door
of the summer house, a saw in one hand and a plank of wood in the
other.
    I smiled, hesitant, and he smiled back,
equally uncertain. It was enough, for now. Any apology or mention
of last night would only lead us right back to where we left off in
my bedroom, and I didn't want to do that. This was better.
Safer.
    "I brought breakfast. Have you eaten?"
    "Did someone mention food?" Robbie called
from inside the cottage.
    We laughed. "The kid is a bottomless pit,"
Blake said.
    Robbie brought out two chairs and sat on one.
I took the other while Blake sat on the top step. We ate pancakes
smothered in syrup then got back to work. I didn't have any classes
on a Thursday, but I thought I might give Robbie some extra
tuition. Blake would insist on paying me, but I could tell him it
was just for fun and to pass the time while he worked.
    "I have to stop at lunchtime," he said
leaning back against the porch post.
    "Oh. Okay." I wouldn't ask him what he was
doing. It was none of my business.
    Robbie didn't seem to have the same qualms.
"Got a hot date?" He grinned and winked at me.
    "Yeah." Blake smiled. I looked away, my heart
sinking to the floor. "With my brothers."
    Oh. Well. That was okay then. Not that it
wasn't okay if he had a girlfriend. A hot guy like him should have
a girlfriend. Then again, I'd just slept with him and I did know
one thing about Blake Kavanagh with a hundred percent
certainty—he'd never cheat on a girl. So, right, there was no other
woman. No woman at all, because I didn't count.
    Why did a hot guy like Blake not have a
girlfriend?
    "So what do the bazillionaire Kavanagh
brothers get up to when they're together," Robbie asked, licking
syrup off his fingers.
    "Surfing," Blake said.
    "You still do your Thursday afternoon thing
down at Prospect Point?" I asked.
    He nodded. "They kept it up while I was away,
and made me join them again after I came back. It's good. Keeps us
active and we talk about everything down there. It keeps us
close."
    Ever since Reece could drive he'd been taking
his younger brothers down to The Point to surf. I didn't know why
the tradition had begun, or how they'd even got into surfing in the
first place, but it was just something they did together. They were
lucky to find time in their busy schedules to spend an afternoon
every Thursday surfing. Very lucky. The brothers were tight. They
stood up for each other no matter what, sometimes at