Spring Break with a Billionaire (Love Beach Spring Break Collection #10)

1. Chapter One

One

Chapter One

Cameron

The breeze rolling off the ocean whispers against my skin, and I take a deep breath, inhaling the salty air. As I climb from the driver’s seat of my black Range Rover, my shoulders immediately drop, the tension draining from my body. Everything here feels quieter, simpler—exactly the opposite of my world back home.

I glance around, taking in the scene that unfolds in front of Luke and Natalie’s sprawling beach house. The sand stretches beyond the walkway, pale gold fading into a vibrant blue horizon. Even in March, Love Beach looks like paradise. And right now, paradise is exactly what I need.

“You finally made it!” Natalie calls from the front porch, waving enthusiastically. She’s barefoot, wrapped up in a thick sweater over shorts, and her blonde curls blow gently around her smiling face. The warmth in her welcome melts the last fragments of tension in my chest. She rushes down the steps to hug me, her arms tight around my shoulders.

“Hey, sweetheart.” I squeeze her close for a moment, enjoying how quickly the comfort of family seeps into my bones. “Thanks for inviting me.”

“You know you’re always welcome here.” She steps back, grinning. “Luke’s inside, pretending he knows how to grill snapper.” Natalie lowers her voice, “Spoiler alert: he doesn’t.”

“That’s slander,” Luke’s deep voice rumbles from the doorway. He emerges, looking every bit the laid-back beach bum even though he’s a tech billionaire. His grin stretches wider than usual. “Good to see you, Cameron.”

“You too.” I clap him on the shoulder, feeling instantly at home in their presence. There’s something undeniably grounding about being with family.

“How’s the drive?” Luke asks, already taking my bag despite my protest. He’s always been that guy—hospitable, generous, easygoing. I’m so glad that we got past all the drama that I made when he and Natalie got together.

“Quiet, thankfully.” I rub the back of my neck, releasing the lingering stiffness. “Exactly what I needed.”

Natalie nudges my arm gently as we head inside. “You look tired, Dad. Have you taken a break since Christmas?”

I chuckle softly, though there’s truth in her teasing. “Not really. You know how I get.”

“We do,” Luke agrees, his voice serious despite the playful jab. “That’s why we insisted you come. You deserve to slow down and breathe a little.”

He’s right, of course. It’s the curse of success: the harder I work, the less I know how to stop. Every project, every investment, every decision demands constant vigilance. Years of late nights and endless flights between coasts have left me craving something simpler.

Luke shows me to the guest suite, and I pause at the threshold, absorbing the view. Sliding doors open onto a balcony overlooking the beach, where the Atlantic stretches endlessly beneath a clear sky. The soothing roar of waves breaking gently onto the shore is already pulling at me, reminding me exactly why I’m here.

“Think you can survive a few weeks of peace and quiet?” Luke leans against the doorframe, his arms crossed casually.

“I’ll try,” I smirk, glancing around the perfectly decorated guest room. Natalie’s thoughtful touches—fresh flowers, soft linens, a few of my favorite books placed casually on the nightstand—tell me how much they want me to feel comfortable.

Luke chuckles, clearly reading my mind. “Nat spent hours fussing over everything. She worries about you.”

I sigh, feeling a pang of guilt. “She shouldn’t have to. I’ve managed fine on my own.”

“Have you?” Luke’s gaze is knowing. “It’s okay to admit you need a break. Life doesn’t have to be one big sprint.”

I laugh quietly, knowing he’s right, but old habits die hard. “I don’t know if I even remember how to relax.”

He pushes away from the doorframe with a grin. “Lucky for you, you’ve got experts around. Natalie will make sure you relearn fast. We’ll start tonight—seafood and drinks out on the deck at sunset. No business talk allowed.”

“I’ll try to restrain myself,” I joke, feeling lighter already.

He leaves me then, closing the door softly behind him. Alone, I move to the balcony, stepping outside to lean against the railing. The vastness of the ocean captivates me, pulling my attention into its rhythm. It feels like a heartbeat, a steady pulse that grounds me, calming the chaos that constantly hums in my veins.

I take another deep breath, savoring the silence broken only by waves and the occasional cry of a gull. The knot between my shoulders loosens slightly, my mind starting to unwind from months of constant pressure.

What would it feel like, I wonder, to truly embrace the simplicity of this place? To walk along the shore without an itinerary, to enjoy long afternoons without checking emails or conference calls? It sounds foreign, almost impossible. Yet it’s exactly why I came here.

Maybe this break will give me a glimpse of the life I’ve quietly longed for: uncomplicated, genuine, and slow. As I watch the gentle rhythm of the ocean, I make myself a silent promise. For the next few weeks, no business. No stress. Just sunshine, sand, and family.

I’m going to find peace, whether I’m ready for it or not.

* * *

Cricket

The tiny cottage sits nestled among palm trees, weathered pale-blue paint peeling charmingly from the siding. The whole scene is picture-perfect, like something from a postcard. I pause next to Abby, my best friend since forever, breathing in the salty breeze that stirs my hair. Already, I feel the relaxation creeping into my bones, a welcome release from months of teaching second-graders how to sit still and listen.

“Wow.” Abby lets out a happy sigh, shielding her eyes from the afternoon sun. “This is exactly what we needed.”

I smile and nod, unable to argue. “It’s adorable.”

Abby bumps my shoulder playfully. “Just think—a whole week of no alarm clocks, no grading papers, and no kids asking why the sky is blue.”

We laugh, and I adjust my sunglasses, feeling genuinely excited. “Sounds like heaven.”

“It is.” Abby leads the way up the sandy walkway, unlocking the front door with an exaggerated flourish. “Welcome to our temporary escape from reality.”

I step inside and instantly fall in love. The cottage is cozy and bright, with whitewashed walls, pastel accents, and oversized windows that frame perfect beach views. A breeze blows gently through sheer curtains, carrying the scent of salt and ocean with it.

“This is perfect.” I spin slowly, absorbing every charming detail—the weathered furniture, nautical décor, the bookshelves stocked with worn paperbacks. Someone put thought into making guests feel at home.

Abby drops onto the overstuffed couch, her legs draping comfortably over the armrest. “Okay, rules for this trip. Number one: no worrying about work. Number two: we eat whatever we want, no counting calories. And number three—”

“No falling for charming vacationers,” I interrupt, finishing the sentence for her with a firm nod. This isn’t the first time she’s gone over the rules. “Got it.”

Abby grins, giving me a pointed look. “Exactly. We’re here for us, not to end up with spring break heartbreak.”

I laugh softly, moving to peer out the window toward the beach, where the waves crash rhythmically onto the shore. A group of surfers floats idly, waiting patiently for the next swell. It’s easy to imagine spending the entire week lounging in the sun, ignoring anything remotely complicated.

“I’m serious, Cricket,” Abby adds gently. “You’re not allowed to fall in love with anyone here. It’s a fling-free zone.”

I glance back at her, amused by the worry in her eyes. She means well, and it’s not like I haven’t done exactly what she’s saying before. Our senior trip to Cozumel is not something I want to repeat. “Trust me, Abby, love is the last thing on my mind. I’m here to read books, relax, and forget about anything resembling romance except for what I find between the pages.”

Abby raises her eyebrows skeptically. “Famous last words.”

I roll my eyes playfully. “It’s only one week. How much trouble could I possibly get into?”

She laughs outright. “Oh, you want a list?”

“Fine.” I hold up my hands in surrender, laughing softly. “No falling in love, no charming strangers, no trouble.”

She gives a satisfied nod. “Perfect.”

We spend the next half-hour unpacking quickly, filling the cottage with our familiar clutter—bikinis, sunscreen, stacks of novels we’ve been meaning to read all year. The more we settle in, the more relaxed I feel. Abby cranks open the windows wider, letting the breeze flow freely through every room. Soon, the whole cottage smells like salt, sun, and freedom.

“Should we explore a little?” Abby suggests, adjusting her floppy beach hat in the mirror. “Find a cute café or something?”

I nod eagerly. “Definitely.”

Outside, we walk barefoot down the sandy path toward town, the warmth of the sun seeping into my skin. Everything feels soft here, slower than Star Mountain. My life back home is full of teaching, planning, and other responsibilities.

It’s exactly what I need, a simple, uncomplicated week with zero expectations. I’m not searching for love or even romance. I’ve learned the hard way that vacation romance rarely survives beyond the trip, and I refuse to set myself up for disappointment. My heart needs rest as much as my body and mind.

Abby stops at the corner, scanning a signpost marked with hand-painted arrows. “Hmm. Coffee or ice cream first?”

I grin, considering our choices seriously. “Both?”

She nods, matching my enthusiasm. “Both.”

As we stroll through Love Beach’s charming downtown, I let myself truly relax, my heart rate slowing to match the gentle rhythm of this seaside escape. The entire vibe is charming and unpretentious—colorful storefronts, quirky beach-themed décor, and smiling locals waving from open windows. It feels like stepping into a movie, a magical place where nothing bad ever happens.

This is exactly how I plan to spend my week—calm, content, and utterly carefree.

Yet as Abby and I wander hand in hand through the streets, laughing at the silly signs and soaking up the warmth, I can’t help feeling an inexplicable tug of anticipation.

This week, I remind myself firmly that, is just for relaxation, but even as I say it to myself again, a tiny, rebellious voice whispers a challenge in the back of my mind: We’ll see about that.