Tapping The Billionaire (Billionaire Bad Boys 1)

“I might have noticed it a time or two.”

She sank back into the seat and shook her hair out of her smiling face.

“You should notice more. Like, a lot more. You know, every weekend or so. Andddd, if you just happen to want some company,” she said, feigning nonchalance, “I could probably fit it into my schedule. I mean, I’d be willing to check.”

“I’ll make note.”

“Holy hell! Look at that house! It’s adorable!”

I followed her eyes through the windshield, smiling so much my cheeks started to ache. The little bungalow wasn’t ostentatious, but it didn’t lack space either, and the wood-shank shingle siding had seen better days. The inside pretty much matched, but I was working on fixing it. Slowly but surely.

“I’m glad you like it.”

She bounced in her seat.

“But you probably shouldn’t like it too much. I’m fixing it up to give it to my parents, and I’ll start to feel bad if you get too attached.”

“Really? You’re doing the work yourself?” If she had been a dog, I imagined her ears would have perked up.

I smiled and nodded. “Really. I had an electrician work on the wiring and Thatch and Wes have helped me a couple of times with the heavy lifting, but I’ve done most of it myself.”

She slammed an open hand down on my thigh and squeezed, her expression deadpan.

“I think I just orgasmed.”

I shoved the gearshift into park and reached for her neck at the same time. I rubbed my nose with hers and smiled before touching my lips to hers just once. “Please, Benny. For the love of all that’s holy, hold on to that thought—and the easy trigger.”

Bags inside the house, a quick dinner of sandwiches I’d picked up from Tony’s deli and packed to bring along consumed, and wine in hand, Georgia demanded a tour of the house.

“I want to know every detail. What it looked like when you started, what you’re in the middle of now, and what you see it being like when you’re done. Don’t cut corners, Brooks,” she’d said.

“I intend to travel each and every curve in its entirety,” I’d teased back salaciously.

She’d just laughed and shoved me down the hall we were currently walking.

She’d seen the completely redone kitchen, the room I’d tackled first. I’d known it would be an outrageously extensive job, as well as the heart of the house. Crisp white cabinets, light stone counters, and dark wood floors, I’d kept the character of the house but added a ton of modern twists and convenience.

“God, Kline. I still can’t get over that island! It’s freaking enormous.”

“I know.”

Twelve feet by twelve feet, it was nearly enough room to use as an elevated dance floor. Part of me worried that it was too much, but my reasoning was sound. Maureen and Bob Brooks lived their lives in the kitchen, hip to hip or one or the other relaxing at the counter while the other one cooked. I swore ninety-five percent of my childhood memories happened in that room.

“It’s perfect, though. Like the epicenter of the house.”

My chest tightened with an unexpected surge of pride and accomplishment. The fact that she understood made me feel validated in a way I hadn’t even known I’d needed. I turned quickly, grabbing her hips and slamming her surprised and open lips to mine.

“Thank you,” I said. “That’s exactly what I was going for.”

I almost couldn’t handle the feeling of her answering smile.

“Watch your step,” I advised as we stepped into one of the completely unrenovated bedrooms. The original wainscoting was the only thing I really wanted to keep, and it was acting more like a temporary storage room for supplies than a bedroom at the moment.

“This place is amazing,” Georgie remarked in wonder. “It’s almost like a time capsule.”

“I know. It’s nearly a hundred years old. Which was really fucking intimidating when I first started doing the work.”

“I bet.”

“Come on. Let me show you upstairs real quick and then we can watch a movie. I’m ready to cuddle.”

“Kline Brooks, a cuddler?”

“Born, bred, and proud of it, baby.”

She pursed her lips, scrunched her nose, and shook her head—Georgia’s look of trying to figure something out.

“You almost never say what I’m expecting you to, you know that?”

I shrugged and nuzzled my face into her neck before touching my lips to the shell of her ear.

“Fine by me. As long as what I actually say is better.”

She shivered and then touched her lips to my cheek. Sauntering toward the door, she looked over her shoulder as soon as her small body lined up with the frame. “You haven’t failed me yet.”