Page 85 of The Elusive Billionaire

“I—I could have handled that on my own.”

“And you did.” This time, he does kiss my forehead, and all my friends sigh as if we’re in the middle of a rom-com. “But the thing you should understand is that you don’thaveto do it all yourself. Not anymore. Plus,” he wrinkles his nose in disgust. “She smells like rotting flowers. I didn’t want you to get close enough to bring that stench home to our bed tonight.”

“Our.” My ass hits the bench seat with the force of an anvil. “Bed.”

Grey grins, and I swear he outshines all the bright fluorescent lighting overhead.

“Why are you doing this?”

My friends don’t even pretend not to listen. At least it’ll save me from attempting to recap this shitshow.

The scent of him attacks my nervous system when he places his cheek to mine, then whispers in my ear, “Because every layer of you that I pull back, the more I learn, the more I crave, the more I want. And I’m done depriving myself of you, sweetheart.”

“What did he say?” Clover hisses to my other two best friends.

“I’m not an onion.”

He finally pulls back, giving me space to breathe and freaking think.

“No, you’re definitely not an onion.” He stands to his full height, his attention snagging on Keela, and his entire form softens. “You’re more like a rose—simple at first, guarded even, but reveals more as it blooms.” His gaze darts to mine like wildfire, and just as dangerous. “It’s the perfect name for a daughter too, don’t you think?”

He reaches out and pats Keela’s head with the gentlest touch, but my lungs have gone up in flames.

“Ladies.” He mimes tipping his hat like a jackass before planting a quick kiss on my lips, and then he saunters out of thediner with a to-go bag that Betty hands him, not giving one shit that everyone in the place is staring at him.

“Boundaries,” I croak. “We need boundaries.”

“Ah, sweetie.” Elle grins and Madi bounces in the seat next to me. “I think you’re well past boundaries with that man. So let’s talk about something fun like, wedding dresses.”

“Wedding dresses,” I echo with no emotion at all. In fact, the blood pounding in my ears drowns them out completely while I stare at Keela, who might be the only one on my side. She grimaces, turns a troubling shade of purple, then her diaper explodes with a cacophony of very impolite sounds.

“Oops,” Elle laughs. “Time for a change.”

No shit…or oh shit, I suppose.

“I’ll set up an appointment at Blushing Bridal for you.” Elle’s still talking about wedding dresses, but my mind is focused on one thing—a daddy’s girl named Rose.

CHAPTER TWENTY

GREYSON

“Tellme again why we’re here?” Brax asks before pulling a nine iron from his golf bag.

It’s been two weeks of us living at the Hideaway, and we’re no closer to any solutions.

“Press,” I grumble.

Truth is, I’m not any happier to be hosting this charity golf tournament or the gala later tonight than he is, but Quinn swears that Kristen, the crisis PR guru she hired, is the best and has insisted on more public-facing appearances to overshadow the news of Savvy’s past and my new “elusive billionaire” moniker.

Since we’ve been unable to prove that Quinn is selling secrets, we’re going along with her schemes—for now—and that includes listening to this Kristen woman, all while feeding Quinn purposefully misleading information.

We’ll catch the person responsible, even if it’s the one person in our company that I trusted almost as much as Braxton to have our backs.

For our golf outing today, two brothers from North Carolina, Grant and Roman Harrington, round out our foursome.

I recognize their names, and they’re likely here because I haven’t responded to any of their requests for a meeting.

That’s why I hate these things, but the situation called for it. And it’ll bring in much-needed money for the Stillwater relief efforts. Brax has taken his daily acts of kindness to whole new heights since working on his Discreet Daily Deeds venture full-time, but this will be next-level, even for him.