Page 91 of The Elusive Billionaire

“Again, could’ve fooled me that you didn’t order the damn things.” A giant smiling sunshine spreads across my breasts, with Omni-Reyes above and Happiness below.

“I’m not someone who shares, sweetheart. So, the very last thing I would have put you in is a cocktease of an outfit. That”—he meets my stare with so much heat I’ll feel the burn for days—“is for my eyes only. But here we are.”

“Yeah.” I swallow hard. “So, what’s the plan?”

His real smile knocks the air from my lungs. Not the one he uses professionally. Not the one that scares people away, but the one that makes him appear younger and not so jaded and eases the tension in his face.

“The plan? We’re going to sell some beer, answer some questions, and make damn sure the world falls in love with us—the real us—not the version people think they know.”

Sarcasm is my default, and my ensuing laugh is its soundtrack. “Grey, we couldn’t even fool our best friends into believing we were friends for one day while they got married. You sincerely think we can trick the world into believing we’re in love?”

His hand falls to my upper thigh, and my lungs rattle in my ribcage.

“I know we can.”

“What exactly is your plan here?”

“To show them who the fuck we are.”

“And you’re so confident that who we are is what they want to see?”

“No, I don’t care about what they want to see. I only care that we give them the truth.”

“What truth?”

There’s that damn sun-blinding smile again.

“You’re fire, sweetheart, and I’m the accelerant. We’ve been tempting and teasing each other, too afraid of the flames, but from destruction, new life will always bloom. Instead of fighting our natural inclination, it’s time to give them a taste of it, show them what it means to be engulfed by…” He waits until I face him head-on. “Love.”

“You want to burn them with the intensity of our hatred for each other.”

He laughs, and I feel it deep in my gut. “Love and hate are as fickle as flipping a coin. No one side is right, but how it lands dictates your path forward.”

The cart stops at the next hole, and we’re immediately surrounded by people, but this time, his friend Roman and three other men with more muscles than good sense push the crowd back while we reopen the drink coolers.

“What’s his deal?” I ask, indicating Roman.

Grey frowns for half a second, then it’s as though he makes a decision, and the lines of his face relax. “A new friend, I think.”

“Huh. I thought you were allergic to those.”

“I am. Or…” That line is back between his brows, and guilt licks at my spine for teasing him. “Maybe I was. We grow and adapt, or we die, and my time isn’t up yet. You ready for this?” He opens the windows to the bar cart and expertly arranges cans.

“As ready as I c—” Greyson’s lips devour mine, and cameras click like crickets on a silent night. I attempt to pull away, but he tugs me closer on a groan I feel all the way to my core.

“Let me in, Monroe.” His words ghost atop my lips, and when I suck in a breath, he tastes me like a starving man. With tongue and teeth colliding, he masters my mouth as if he’s truly in control of the universe. And by the time he sets me back on my feet, my cheeks are red, my lungs are heaving, and my head is a mess of contradictions.

Turning to the crowd, he displays a dazzling grin. “My fiancée and I are a bit competitive, so we’ve decided to turn this into a game—for charity, of course.”

“What are you doing?” I hiss.

“We’ll answer a question for every beverage purchased.”

“Grey.” I tug on the back of his shirt, and he simply reaches around to take my hand in his.

“We’ll be keeping score. We’ll get a point for every question answered, and we lose a point for each one we skip.”

“Grey.” I squeeze his hand with all my strength, and it barely fazes him. “This is a terrible idea.”