All Chapters of Billionaires And Beaches: The Kisses Series: Chapter 91 - Chapter 100

June 16th, 1990I stumbled into my apartment, dropping the stack of bills on my kitchen table. They merged seamlessly with the other bills and junk mail, all waiting for me to be responsible and look at them. Nothing I was hoping for had come in the mail. I closed the door and kicked off my shoes, letting my toes stretch out and relax. I had been home for a week and was missing the beach terribly. No, I didn't miss the beach. I missed Dean. Six days, eight hours, and thirty-seven minutes since I had seen him last. And I had no idea how to fill the hole that was growing in my heart.I leaned back against the door, closing my eyes and remembering his face. Maybe a letter would come tomorrow. I had sent one off two days ago, carefully checking and then double-checking the address. It had been hard to write, not knowing where to start and then not knowing where to curb my words. I wanted to tell him that he was all I could think about, that I would wait for him to come back if he wanted.

June 20th, 1990Down at street level, I got into the waiting car and stared out the window. The driver was silent as I headed back to my hotel, and my mind was on designs rather than the giant buildings when something caught my eye. A young boy, about five or six years old, was walking resolutely along the sidewalk. He stopped, setting down a brightly-wrapped present, and pulled out an oversized map, his small face frowning as he tried to read it. The boy obviously was trying to get somewhere to deliver the gift, but I couldn't see an adult with him. I watched him for a moment as we sat at a light, wondering why he looked vaguely familiar.I gasped as it hit me where I had seen the boy before. He was the laughing child in the pictures on Mrs. Saunders' wall. His mother would be worried sick if she knew he was out on the streets of New York by himself."Stop the car!" I shouted, unbuckling my seat-belt and practically lunging for the door. The driver looked back at me in surprise, but

Present DayI pulled into the parking lot attached to an old wooden building with small windows that looked exactly like a small town police station in the movies. Dean sat quietly for a moment, as if debating saying something. Inside the darkened glass door with white lettering, I could see a man in a grayish tan uniform sitting at a desk filling out paperwork."I'll get the paperwork started while you're at the hospital. I'll call if we finish before you," Dean said. He opened his mouth like he was going to say something more, but instead changed his mind, pushing his lips together and opening the car door. I watched him walk into the station, his movements full of an unconscious deadly grace that can only come with years of practice. His hands opened the door, and I remembered how they had felt on my cheek. I took a deep breath. I couldn't think about that kiss right now, the way his hand cupped my jaw, the sweetness of his tongue... Stop it! You have work to do! I chided myself.T

Present DayRobbie passed me as I walked down the hallway toward Daniel's room. His eyes were still rimmed with red, and his lips were pursed together as he walked the ornate carpet, his mind lost in thought. I don't think he even saw me as he paced back and forth down the long hallway. I wasn't sure he had even been in to see his father since we had brought him home, but at least he was in the house.I knocked softly before entering the large room that had become Daniel's infirmary. A large hospital bed took up the center of the room, an oxygen tank and an IV pole tucked carefully beside them. Bianca sat in a large easy chair in the corner, her feet tucked up under her as she typed on her laptop. I could hear soft classical music, playing softly in the background. Knowing Daniel, it was probably Mozart.Daniel sat propped up in the bed, pillows and blankets tucked tightly around him. His pale face was so gaunt that his eyes seemed to sink into his paper thin skin. I remembered the he

Present DayI woke up the next morning to find that Dean was already out of bed. The room seemed empty without him. I glanced at the painting on the nightstand, the woman still defiant against the storm after all these years. It made me smile that he had kept it.The floor was cold to my bare feet as I stumbled into the bathroom. Sitting on the toilet seat was a clean pair of sweats and a plain gray t-shirt. I slid the comfortable clothing on, rolling the waist band to keep the pants up. The shirt smelled like Dean, and I breathed it in, enjoying the scent. I giggled as I realized there was no way he was going to get this t-shirt back. Well, maybe, when it lost that wonderful smell and needed refreshing.The rest of the apartment was quiet, but I found a pot of coffee ready with a note in Dean's messy handwriting.Good morning Beautiful,I didn't want to wake you, but I'm getting breakfast. Creamer's in the fridge.I love you.I folded the note and stuck it in my pocket. Even though i