The Billionaire’s Big Bold Weakness: A Brother’s Best Friend/BBW Romance (The Billionaires’ Club)
The Billionaire’s Big Bold Weakness: Chapter 1

Present Day

‘I’m so jealous of you right now, Jessa,’ my best friend, Gwen London says, her round face scrunched up in a scowl that makes her look far younger than she is. ‘You get to spend the night hanging out with Cami and Bentley Reynolds.’

‘I’m not hanging out with them. I’m working,’ I say with a laugh, carefully wiping down the top of the bar even though it’s already spotless. The waxed wood shines in the late afternoon sunlight spilling in from the three glass walls. So does the hardwood floor. The entire place is squeaky clean, which is great. Before I came to work here, I always imagined bars would be messier.

This one isn’t. It’s honestly kind of beautiful. The karaoke bar is situated on the rooftop of the best hotel in Chattanooga. The sun seems so much closer from up here, like I could reach out and touch it if I wanted to do it. It’s one of my favorite things about working up here.

At night, fairy lights and the bonfire pits set up outside give the place a cozy vibe. Both the bar and the floors are made of some sort of wood that’s so dark it’s almost black. Plush sofas and armchairs are scattered around in groups, allowing patrons to get comfortable after eating at one of the bar tables. It’s intimate, the perfect setting for small, private parties like the one scheduled for tonight.

‘You’re working a private event for Cami and Bentley, Kasen Alexander, and Clayton Devine,’ Gwen says, still pouting. The guys and Cami are big country music stars, here to play a charity benefit at the hotel tomorrow night. Six years ago, Cami fell in love with Bentley Reynolds and gave a lot of curvy girls like my best friend hope that there is a place for girls who look like us in the music business.

Cami has been Gwen’s idol since we were seventeen, serving up ice cream at Papa Scoops and dreaming about our futures. We both had grand plans for our lives. Gwen wanted to be a big star. I wanted to be a school psychologist.

Not much has changed in the last five years.

We’re older, wiser, and as determined as ever. Gwen still dreams of getting her big break. I still want to be a psychologist. We still work together, though I now serve alcohol in the luxurious hotel where we work. Gwen runs the hospitality desk. Despite how she makes it sound, my job is by no means glamorous. I spend most of my time serving expensive drinks to people who spend the whole time looking down their noses at me.

I’m not rich enough, skinny enough, or important enough for most of them to waste their time on me. But grad school isn’t cheap, and I make good money here. I’ve worked hard to keep my grades high enough to make it through all four years at UTC on a full scholarship. Which means, thanks to this job, I’ve been able to tuck away enough to cover what my fellowship isn’t going to cover when I start grad school in Nashville this fall.

My older brother, Cyrus, keeps trying to slip me extra. I’ve told him a thousand times that I’m fine, but he never listens. I love him to death, but he drives me crazy sometimes.

Cyrus is nine years older than I am. He joined the Air Force right out of high school and fell in love with the life. I missed him like crazy over the years, but he’s stationed at the base in Tullahoma, which is only an hour from here. He’s working on a flight simulation project.

I love having him so close to home, even if he is overprotective and bossy. He’s been that way my entire life. No one messes with me without answering to him. Picking on the smart, chubby girl was quality entertainment for some of the boys in my class when I was little. They really didn’t like that I made better grades than they did. Tommy Wahler was the worst. He always tried to destroy my homework so I couldn’t turn it in.

That ended the first time I ran home in tears. Cyrus pried the truth out of me. He walked me to class the next morning. I still don’t know what he said, but Tommy and his friends never bothered me again. My brother has been my hero ever since.

I’ll never tell him that, of course. Are you kidding me? He’d never let me forget it. Just like he never lets me forget the time I puked on the Ferris wheel. Or the time I had a crush on Justin Bieber. He may be awesome, but he’s still an annoying older brother.

‘If you were downstairs, you could probably talk to Cami yourself,’ I tease Gwen, checking to make sure the bar is completely stocked. Since I’m the only one working tonight, running out of something isn’t an option. Gretchen Landers, our manager, would have a fit. She demands perfection, especially when celebrities and the upper echelon stay here.

Gretchen may be in her sixties, but she knows that one negative Tweet or bad review from a high-profile guest could spell trouble for all of us. She refuses to let that happen. Unlike the guests who stay here, most of the employees depend on this place for survival. They have families to think about, households to run. Gretchen may seem stern, but she’s a marshmallow.

‘I’ll go in a minute,’ Gwen says, waving me off with one perfectly manicured hand. Unlike me, Gwen makes being curvy and fashionable look effortless. She’s always dressed to impress in bright, bold colors. She’s African American and has a flawless tawny complexion, curly black hair, and gorgeous hazel eyes. Everything looks amazing on her.

I’ve got porcelain skin and blonde hair, both of which look washed out and pallid in bright colors. I stick to more traditional, boring colors, wear my hair pinned up to keep it out of the way, and hope I make it through the day without spilling something all over myself. As for my nails…well, I usually slap on a coat of clear polish and promise myself I won’t pick it off when I get nervous. It never works.

The sad truth is, I’m a twenty-two-year-old cat lady in the making. Except I don’t own a cat. I have a teacup chihuahua who owns me. She has more sweaters than I do. We spend our nights knitting and watching true crime documentaries on Netflix. Well, I knit. Ruby judges me.

‘I came up here to tell you that Jax is here,’ Gwen says.

I jerk my head up to look at her, smacking it on the bar in the process.

‘Ouch!’ I mutter, reaching up to rub it as I slowly back out from beneath the bar.

‘I don’t understand how you manage to pour drinks all night without spilling them yet can’t walk across a flat surface without tripping,’ she says, shaking her head. ‘Are you okay?’

‘Fine,’ I mumble, still trying to process that Jax is here.

Jaxon Archer is my brother’s best friend, my secret love, and my new boss all rolled into one delicious six-foot-four package. I’ve been in love with him since Cyrus found out he didn’t have any family and dragged him home to spend the holidays with us the year I turned eighteen.

He is so freaking gorgeous. He’s tall and broad, imposing save for his glasses. The thick black frames make him seem more like a hot nerd and less like the Navy SEAL he is. They soften his mocha-colored eyes, hide a little of the danger gleaming there.

The man is deadly, in more ways than one. Every time he looks at me, I want to throw myself into his arms. I can’t do that, of course. For one, Jax could have any woman on the planet. There’s no way he’d go for his best friend’s chubby little sister. For two, Cyrus would kill us both. The last time one of his friends flirted with me, he had a fit. I don’t think my brother has talked to Chase Bennett since then. I don’t want to be the reason he stops talking to Jax.

Jax needs every friend he can get right now.

Six months ago, he inherited a fortune from the father he never knew. He went from a warzone to the boardroom virtually overnight. He’s now in charge of one of the biggest hospitality conglomerates in the southern half of the United States. He owns everything from luxurious hotels to upscale restaurants to a freaking cruise line.

As the newest member of the billionaires’ club, he’s got his hands full. Women are crawling out of the woodwork to try to snare him. Men are lining up to befriend him. They’re as fake as they come. Seven months ago, they wouldn’t have given him the time of day. Now, they’re fawning all over him like he’s the Second Coming.

Jax isn’t the kind of person who plays well with others. He can be autocratic and ruthless and a little grumpy. He doesn’t have any family, and he doesn’t trust most people. My brother is one of a few exceptions. So am I. Jax values our friendship and guards it closely.

It’s one of the things I’ve always admired most about him. Even though he’s a dozen years older than me and is Cyrus’s friend more than mine, he’s always been protective of me. He treats me like I’m important. When Cyrus was deployed, he called to check on me and my mom a lot. He came over for dinner. Even mowed the lawn so I wouldn’t have to do it.

Of course, that only made me love him more.

I’ve tried so hard to hide it, but I think Cyrus knows how I feel about him. He hasn’t said anything to Jax though, thank God. I live in fear of Jax ever replaceing out. Listening to him try to let me down gently would break my heart. It would break it even more to be the reason he and Cyrus stop speaking.

I don’t think Jax even knows he’s my boss. Gwen got me the job here eight months ago, but Jax was overseas at the time. He only got back stateside a few days before he found out about his dad. He came over to see me once right after he got back to Chattanooga.

He was…not good. Intoxicated. Angry at the world.

He tried to kiss me.

I dodged him and called Cyrus to come get him.

I’ve only seen him once since then. He’s been busy and avoiding him seems like the safest option. He doesn’t remember what happened. I’d prefer to keep it that way. Jax has never crossed a line with me or been anything less than a gentleman. He would be mortified to know he tried to kiss me.

Pretending it didn’t happen is so much easier than listening to him tell me I’m a sweet girl but.

That’s one conversation I never want to have with him. But I can’t help but wish things were different…that they could be different. He makes me ache for things I don’t understand, crave intimacy that I’ve never known. I’m a twenty-two-year-old virgin who has never been on a real date. The only kiss I’ve had was with Curtis Daniels during a game of Spin the Bottle when I was fourteen. He’d spent the whole party eating sour cream and onion chips. It was not a great experience for me.

But all I have to do is think of Jax and those mocha eyes, and my entire body aches. I fantasize about his rough hands and how good they’d feel against my body. I dream of him saying my name in that gritty voice of his, of feeling his lips on mine. Honestly, I’ve had dirty dreams about him so often over the years that it would probably make a porn star blush.

Gwen is the only one who knows just how bad I have it for Jax. Not even she knows that I’ve turned down more than one date because I can’t imagine going out with anyone who isn’t him. It’s true though. The thought of anyone else touching me or kissing me makes my stomach hurt.

The thought of moving to Nashville for grad school and leaving him behind hurts too. We talked almost every day before he tried to kiss me. I’ve missed him so much. Trying to keep my distance is killing me, but it’s the best thing for both of us.

At least this way, I get to keep him in my life in some way.

‘Jessa?’ Gwen snaps her fingers in front of my face. ‘Do you have a concussion?’

‘No, I was just thinking.’

‘About the night he tried to kiss you?’ she asks, placing her elbow on the bar and then leaning forward to place her chin on her hand. Her gaze runs over me, missing nothing. She’s the only one who knows about that almost-kiss too. All Cyrus knows is that he showed up drunk and hurting. ‘You regret not letting him?’

‘No,’ I say carefully. ‘I’ve been in love with him forever, but in every one of my dreams, when he kisses me, it’s not because I’m convenient and he’s in pain. It’s because he wants me as much as I’ve always wanted him. And that won’t ever happen. That can’t happen. So no, I don’t regret it. I’m not even mad at him for it. I just feel…bad for him.’

‘You want to know something?’

‘What?’

‘My whole life, I’ve wanted to be a famous musician. But when you told me what happened with Jax, I felt bad for him too. Can you imagine being normal one minute and then suddenly having all of this money and responsibility dropped on you by a man who couldn’t even bother to be part of your life?’ she asks me, her eyes wide and earnest. ‘It’s messed up.’

‘Yeah, it is,’ I say softly, my heart pulsing with empathy for him. His mom died when he was younger. He went from thinking he was an orphan to replaceing out that his dad was alive and well and just couldn’t be bothered. I never met his father, Charles Concord, but he doesn’t seem like a very good man to me.

Jax is a far better person than I am. I probably would have burned his company to the ground and then felt badly about it later. Not Jax though. He stepped up to make sure that no one lost their jobs or livelihoods. He’s doing the best he can to learn the ropes and make sure everyone is happy working for him.

Which is, I’m guessing, why he’s here now. He’s been making the rounds, trying to view every property he owns and meet as many employees as he can. I’m proud of him. He’s an incredible man, determined to do what’s right even though he doesn’t owe his father a damn thing.

It makes me love him even more. But then again…there’s not a lot he does that I don’t love.

I don’t know how I’m supposed to hide it for the rest of my life. But he’s lost enough already. There’s no way I’m going to be the reason he loses Cyrus too. Even if it means I have to watch the man I love fall in love with and marry someone else.

I press my hand to my stomach, trying to rub away the way it aches and churns at the thought of Jax with anyone else. As far as I know, he doesn’t date. If he does, he doesn’t talk about it to me. But sooner or later, it’s bound to happen. Especially now that the entire female population knows his name.

‘It’s only three more months,’ Gwen says, reaching out to squeeze my free hand. ‘And then we’ll move to Nashville and you’ll be too busy with your classes to think about anything else.’

‘Right,’ I say, expelling a heavy breath. I just have to make it through today and then avoid him for the next three months, and then I’ll be in Nashville for grad school.

I can pretend for three more months…right?

‘Crap,’ I mutter, quickly shoving my Abnormal Psych book under the bar and standing upright when the door to the bar swings open and Gretchen marches in. She reminds me of a nun. Her gray hair is schooled into a bun tight enough that it pulls taut the skin near her temples. She always looks impeccable in her black pencil skirt and starched white shirt, which is buttoned all the way up to her throat. Despite her severe appearance and strict rules, she’s a great hotel manager. I really like her.

It’s the man ducking through the door behind her that has my stomach fluttering and my palms sweating. Jax has never looked less than gorgeous a day in his life. But right now he looks even better than that.

Holy crap. Does he ever.

His crewcut brown hair is a little longer on top than usual. It’s also a little messy, as if he’s been running his hands through it. That’s the only sign that he isn’t as put-together as he appears. He’s in an expensive black suit that fits him to perfection. His shoulders seem even more broad in it. His crisp white button down stretches over his barrel chest. A silver clip holds the silky black tie in place. His shoes shine almost as brightly as the bar top.

His mocha eyes scan the empty bar, noting the location of everything. If I asked him to close his eyes right this second and describe the bar, he wouldn’t miss a single detail. I don’t know if that’s because he’s a Navy SEAL and is trained to always be aware of his surroundings, or if that’s just him. His memory is incredible. He’s smart as hell too.

His gaze sweeps across the bar before landing on me. As soon as they lock on me, little landmines detonate in my belly, sending a heatwave rolling through me. I clench my hands into fists and plant my feet, trying like hell to keep him from seeing the way he affects me.

He doesn’t seem shocked to see me standing there. His eyes darken a touch as they crawl over me, meticulously checking me over like he’s trying to see if I’m all right.

And that right there is exactly why I’ve been in love with him for the last four years. He looks at me as if he sees me, as if it matters to him if I’m doing okay or not. And he knows when something is going on with me. I don’t even have to say anything for him to know.

‘Jessa.’

His voice washes over me like my favorite song. It’s rough and gritty, barely more than a whisper. I hear it though. God, I hear it everywhere. My womb clenches, my nipples turning to hard points. I doubt he and Gretchen hear my heart pounding against my ribcage, but it seems unnaturally loud to me.

‘Hi,’ I whisper.

His gaze tangles with mine, holding me captive. Maybe it’s my imagination or a trick of the light, but he seems to relax the slightest bit, almost like he’s relieved to see me. And then his eyes narrow, his full lips compressing into a thin, disapproving line.

Crap. He knows I’ve been avoiding him.

‘This is the bartender I was telling you about,’ Gretchen says to Jax. Her sharp voice cracks through the tension between us.

Jax doesn’t miss the way I startle.

‘She’s working the Reynolds party tonight,’ he says.

‘Yes, sir.’

‘She’ll be working it alone?’

‘Yes, sir. They specifically requested no extra staff.’

I grit my teeth, fighting back the urge to tell him that she is right here and can speak for herself. People talking over me drives me crazy. Which is exactly why he and Cyrus do it, I think. They love to annoy the hell out of me at every available opportunity.

‘Is there a problem?’ I ask, my voice sugary-sweet.

Jax catches my tone and flashes me the barest hint of a smile.

‘Not at all, Miss Jordan,’ he says, striding across the bar toward me. ‘Gretchen picked the best of the bunch as far as I’m concerned.’ He stops in front of me. His spicy, outdoorsy scent is exactly as powerful as I remember. It hits me like a drug, wrecking me. ‘Just trying to get a lay of the land.’

‘Oh,’ I manage to say.

‘How you doin’, rabbit?’ he asks, pitching his voice low and leaning toward me. The urgency in his voice makes my knees weak.

‘F-fine.’ Working with millionaires and billionaires never shakes me the way this man does without even trying. I take a breath and try again. ‘I’m fine. How have you been?’

‘You’ve been avoiding me.’

‘I…’

As soon as he narrows his eyes on me, the lie dies on my lips.

‘You’ve had a lot going on,’ I mutter instead.

‘I always have time for you, Jessa. Always.’

‘How are you, Jax?’ I ask, not missing the strain in his voice. Guilt shoots through me. He needs friends right now. I haven’t been that for him lately. I’ve been so focused on surviving the next few months that I’ve essentially cut off all contact with him.

‘I’ve missed the hell out of you,’ he says.

‘I’m sorry,’ I whisper, feeling about two inches tall. ‘I’ve been a crap friend lately.’

The door to the bar swings open again and Lena pops her dark head in. She sees Gretchen and quickly scurries over to our boss. I watch out of the corner of my eye as they converse in hushed whispers. Whatever Lena has to say does not make Gretchen happy.

‘You can make it up to me,’ Jax says.

I whip my head in his direction again to see him staring at me. He’s got this look on his face…almost like he’s in pain, burning alive. He had that exact same look on his face the night he tried to kiss me. My heart squeezes in a vise, my soul aching in protest. I hate that he’s hurting. I hate that I’ve made it harder for him. And right now, I kind of hate his dad too.

‘Go out with me tomorrow,’ he says…demands, really. He’s used to being in charge. Like Cyrus, he’s all alpha, all the time. There’s a little thread in his voice though, like he’s begging me to say yes, that throws me off. I see the same thing in his eyes. He’s pleading with me.

‘What–?’

‘Mr. Archer,’ Gretchen interrupts. ‘There’s a gentleman downstairs insisting that he needs to speak with you immediately.’

‘Is his name Daniel Fox?’

‘Yes, sir,’ Lena says. ‘He said to tell you it’s a, uh, a DEFCON situation, sir. He was quite insistent.’

‘Of course he was,’ Jax mutters, dropping his head forward as if in defeat. He stands there for a moment, muttering curses under his breath before he lifts his head. His eyes lock on me again, lightning sizzling in those mocha depths. ‘We’ll finish this discussion later.’

‘Okay,’ I whisper.

He stares at me for a long moment, long enough to make me fidget. And then he shakes his head and spins on his heel before stalking across the bar toward Gretchen and Lena. I don’t know what exactly a DEFCON situation entails for a billionaire…but I’m kind of glad I’m not Daniel Fox right now. Because not even the thousand-dollar suit hides the fact that Jax is mad as hell.

He turns back to look at me. Our eyes lock again. Another heatwave rolls through me, ruining my panties and nearly taking my sanity with it. Or maybe it takes my blinders. I’m not sure, but desire flares in his eyes, turning them darker. There’s no mistaking that look. He’s a big, dangerous cat, staring at dinner.

And I’m on the menu.

‘See you soon, rabbit,’ he says, his voice a dark promise that touches me in places I didn’t even know existed. He rips his gaze from mine and disappears through the door, leaving me gaping after him.

‘Holy shit,’ I whisper, my mind reeling. I’m not sure what just happened…but I’m no longer entirely certain that Jax doesn’t have feelings for me too.