Banking the Billionaire (Bad Boy Billionaires Book 2) (6 page)

“Oh. You wanted me to stop?” she asked, all mock-innocence. “You didn’t say stop. You just said, ‘Turn right.’”

Holy hell, she is insane!

“The stop was implied by the giant red sign!”

Her face took on a Gru-like air—as in, evil genius. “Maybe next time you’ll be a little more specific and a lot more cordial.”

“Fuck, you’re a lunatic.”

“Uh-uh-uh,” she hummed. The red of her nail almost hypnotized me as it ticked back and forth in front of my face. Since my only choices seemed to be to concede or die, there was really no choice at all.

“Fuck, you’re a lunatic, Fair Queen Cassie?” I ventured.

“Better.”

“You scare me,” I told her with a point of my index finger. “And that’s saying something.”

She shrugged. There were no fucks for her to give. Absolutely zero. I wouldn’t have been surprised if she’d turned her pockets inside out just to prove it to me.

As the next turn approached, I carefully considered how to tell her. “Did you ever hear the story about Wei Wang?”

“No,” she answered. Which was no surprise since I was making it up.

“Well, all the Wangs had a history of hanging right down the middle, if you know what I mean.”

“Maybe you do only talk about cocks.”

“But not Wei. He lived up to his name, hooking way to the left,” I rushed on as we approached the fork in the road.

“Huh?”

“Stay to the left, hook left, this is your next direction, Luscious Cassie,” I speed-replied as we barreled toward the divide.

“What the fuck?” she asked, but she did what I said. She did it at high speed and quite possibly on two wheels, but she did it.

“You wanted specific directions.”

“Those weren’t specific, they were fucking convoluted and ridiculous.”

It was fair to say she was upset, but she had also been distracted, and in that moment, while trying to get her to do something she wouldn’t want to do, that was the more important of the two.

“Why the fuck are we in a neighborhood?” she asked, realizing I’d taken her off course.

I could see the house I wanted, three down on the left, and appropriately timed my response. “Just pull over right here.”

“Are you lost?” she accused and came to a screeching stop. “I thought you said you knew where you were going.”

I climbed out of the car carefully, sighing in relief when my back cracked at the moment it reached full height. If it hadn’t looked so dirty, I might have considered kissing the pavement.

The glass storm door was the only one closed on the front of the small, light blue, cape-style house, and my favorite little handprints decorated the otherwise pristine pane.

“Come on,” I said, leaning down into the car. “We’re here.”

“We’re here?” Cassie shrieked. “What do you mean we’re here? What in the ever-loving fuck is going on?”

I rounded the car and opened Cassie’s door, taking her by the hips and pulling her out of the car and onto the sidewalk myself. “Sorry, honey, but I couldn’t miss my best girl’s party.”

Her face dropped, and I swore she was a hot second away from completely mutilating my nuts. It was stupid, but I never even considered moving my hands off her to protect the goods. There’s a reason natural selection is the way it is. When I was around her, I wasn’t sure I’d be the fittest in a survival scenario. But I didn’t think other men would be either. It had to be a biological deficiency.

“A girl?” she yelped. “You made me drive you to another girl’s party?”

It was dangerous, but I nodded anyway as Mila approached behind her. “Only girl I’d ever use you to get to is this one,” I promised. And just because I wanted to, with a quick move forward, I pressed my lips to hers. The warmth of her mouth on mine spread immediately to my chest.

When I pulled back to look at her face and the shadow of a girl cast out in front of her, it was safe to say she was gearing up to tear into me for kissing her again without permission.

Until Mila’s voice made her pull up short.

“Uncle Thatch!”

I felt like I could actually see her brain pump the brakes.

“There’s my girl!” I greeted, dragging my eyes away from Cassie’s slowly. The transition of my focus took just long enough that I caught the change on her face.

Mila’s officially six-year-old little legs wrapped as far around my waist as they could go, and she grabbed me by the cheeks. “It’s my birthday and you’re here, la la la,” she sang.

“You bet,” I told her before swinging her around and back down to the ground. “I wouldn’t miss your birthday for anything.”

Cassie shifted beside me, and I hoped the movement was associated with her thawing. Mila, Frankie’s daughter, noticed her for the first time.

“Who’s this?” she asked. “Is she your girlfriend?”

Cass’s eyes bugged out as I avoided the question. “This is Cassie.”

“Hi, Cassie!” Mila greeted with an overeager wave. “I like your shirt!”

Cass’s eyes shot to the
pussy
cat, and I stifled a laugh, stating, “I like it too,” with a waggle of my eyebrows.

“Mila, come on!” Frankie yelled from the front door before he spotted me. “Oh, hey! Come on through, guys. Party’s out back.”

Mila took off, and Cassie slapped me on the back of the head. “That’s for bringing me to a child’s birthday party without any warning.” Before I saw it coming, she slapped me right in the dick.

“Ow!”

“And that’s for kissing me without my permission
again
.”

I cringed internally because I’d taken the first warning during the cat-sitting debacle seriously.
“Don’t ever kiss me again without permission,”
was a pretty easy command to follow. Or it should have been. From the seriousness of her scolding, I knew it meant something to her, but hell, I just hadn’t been able to stop myself. She had some kind of pull I couldn’t resist.

“All right,” I agreed. “No more kissing without your permission.”

“
No
, just no kissing,” she expanded.

“See,” I said. “That’s the problem.”

“Thatch—” she started seriously, turning to me. But I didn’t let her finish.

“Come on. You can yell at me later. Right now we have to go to Mila’s sixth birthday party.”

She stomped back to the open door of the car and pulled out her giant purse, grumbling about castrating me the whole way, while I opened the back hatch and grabbed Mila’s present out of my bag. Before I got arrested and changed everything, I’d planned to take a train early this morning. I’d actually thought it would be simpler than having to drive. Given the prison detour, it turned out to be a complication. When I glanced at my companion, I couldn’t find the energy to get upset about it, though.

Herding Cassie inside was relatively easy, and as I introduced her to Frankie, she had a genuine smile on her face. I wasn’t sure if it was for him or me, though; with his tan, tattooed skin and piercing light green eyes, he tended to have that effect on women.

Packed into the tight space of his kitchen, I stood between the two of them and waved a hand back and forth.

“Frankie, this is Cassie, Kline’s wife’s best friend.”

“Hey, nice to meet you,” Frankie said through a smile.

“And Cassie, this is Frankie. I own a tattoo shop with him.”

“You own a tattoo shop?” she asked abruptly.

Frankie laughed. “I see you two know each other well.”

I shook my head, laughed, and pushed on. “I also know Frankie from home.”

“Home?” Cassie questioned.

“You just picked me up from there.”

“Jail?” she joked, and Frankie drew his eyebrows together. I shook my head slightly to wave him off.

“Yes, exactly,” I teased, but I could tell Frankie would be asking me questions later.

“Where’s Claire?” I asked him.

“Out back with the kids.” I glanced out the window and spotted her soft smile almost immediately. “Come on. We’ve got burgers and stuff.”

We followed him out, and I set my gift on the designated table. Cassie watched as I set it down, and then rummaged through her bag, walking away from me and straight to Mila when she found what she was after.

Frankie and I both looked on as her hand appeared with a Barbie—still in the box—in tow.

“What the hell?” I murmured. “Did she just have that thing in there?”

Frankie laughed and crossed his heavily tattooed arms across his chest. He jerked his chin in her direction. “What’s the deal there?”

“No deal.”

“Right. I’m not blind. I read her shirt and noticed the swells underneath.”

“Uh-oh,” I teased. “I’m telling Claire.”

“Telling me what?” she asked as she came up beside me and placed a hello kiss on my cheek. The sweet scent of her perfume filled my nostrils and made me smile. I’d been friends with the two of them for as long as I could remember. Our love for Margo linked the three of us together. She had been one of Claire’s closest friends and Frankie’s little sister.

“He was planning to tell you that I’d noticed his date’s assets,” Frankie admitted diplomatically.

Claire laughed and shrugged until the tips of her blond hair grazed her sleeveless shoulders. “I noticed too.”

Empty burger dish in hand, she moved on quickly, carrying it to the kitchen to put it in the sink.

As soon as she disappeared, my eyes found Cassie again and watched as she rolled the ends of her yoga pants up to the top of her calves in preparation to play whatever game the kids had talked her into. Mila tried to mimic her by lifting the hem of her dress, but Cassie pushed it back down gently and laughed.

“She’s the phone call from a couple of weeks ago, huh?” Frankie asked, and I just nodded. He’d seen me out the window of the shop laughing and smiling and swooning all over the goddamn place while Cassie flirted and flaunted her ability to converse while drunk, but my eyes refused to leave their perusal to acknowledge him with any more than that.

He laughed as Cassie stood in front of Mila, doing some kind of ridiculous dance for her and her friends, and I felt the sentiment of his humor way down deep in my chest.

“Man,” Frankie muttered. “I can’t wait to watch this unfold.”

“S
o, how long have you known T?” Claire asked as she handed me a freshly washed serving bowl. We’d been at Mila’s sixth birthday party for just over four hours, and while I was exhausted, I was also having the time of my life.

Hey, I don’t have to pour beers from my tits to have a good time.

I took the dish and dried it, my eyes fixated on the scene through the kitchen window, watching Thatch hula-hoop with Mila in the backyard. “Not too long. He’s best friends with my best friend Georgia’s husband.”

Claire smiled warmly at the tongue twister, and her eyes jumped as she followed the breadcrumbs all the way to the end of the trail. “Kline?”

“Yeah.” I nodded, setting the dish on the clean rack. The fact that she knew Kline and at least of Georgia made me curious. “How long have you known Thatch?”

She grinned. “Since we were kids.”

“So you know all of his dirty secrets?” I teased. Her grin fell slightly in response, and it was not the reaction I had expected. She grabbed another dish towel and wrung it in her hands.

“I’ve known him just as long as I’ve known my husband, and still, I don’t know
everything.
He can be quite the mystery, but I’m not even sure he intends for it to be that way. Thatch is the kind of guy who’s open and honest but doesn’t exactly take it upon himself to open up, if you know what I mean.”

“Yeah, I’m noticing that.” I mean, I hadn’t known about the tattoo parlor until today.

“But he’s a good guy.” She unclenched her hands, tossed the towel on the counter, and smiled as she looked out the window. “Underneath all of that charming swagger and big ego, he’s got an even bigger heart.”

My gaze followed hers back outside. I watched Thatch lift Mila up and throw her over his shoulder, running around the yard while all of her friends chased them, giggling and smiling as they ran. It didn’t take a genius to see Claire was right. My chest ached from the overwhelming cuteness of it all.

Claire turned off the faucet with a muttered, “Oops,” as though she’d forgotten to do it before. After a deep breath, she hitched a hip against the counter and faced me, eyes all-knowing. “He’s basically a big teddy bear when you get to know him.” She winked and put a kind hand to my arm. “Just go easy on him, okay? He hasn’t necessarily had the easy road when it comes to relationships.”