The Construction Worker & the Billionaire (Taming The Bad Boy Billionaire 10)
“You know...you’re really cute in the mornings.”
He was still lying in bed, stubbornly naked, watching as she paced back and forth across the room—sleepily getting dressed. Sleepily being the key phrase. So far, she’d managed to compile one sock, a backwards skirt, a sports bra, and a wrist watch. Not that she was very aware of any of those things without having had any coffee.
>
She glanced back at him with a little grin. “Only in the mornings, huh? I’m not cute at any other times of the day?”
“Not in the slightest.” He folded his arms behind his head with a dramatic shudder. “It’s like talking to some kind of troll. But not in the mornings. In the mornings, you’re cute.”
She threw a pillow at him, but kept her distance. They’d been playing this game for the last two hours now—she knew what he was doing. He’d taunt her into coming close enough to the bed, that he could grab her and pull her back inside. He’d fooled her three times already, and the hours had flown by. (The fourth time, she only pretended to get caught. She happened to like very much what happened in bed when she did.)
“Well that’s very gracious of you,” she said sarcastically, pulling her skirt back around the right way. “Now are you ever going to get out of bed? Or should I start charging you rent?”
Not that he could pay it. The man can’t even pay his electricity bill. Although he mysteriously wrote an exorbitant check to bail the man who punched him out of jail...
“I’ll get out of bed...only if you agree to let me buy you breakfast.”
And breakfast. He’s paid for everything we’ve done so far. Including breakfast.
She glanced curiously over her shoulder, then flashed him a quick smile. “Breakfast would be great. There’s a little diner up the road. We could go there?”
He leapt gracefully to his feet—letting the sheet fall to the floor to reveal the perfectly sculpted body just underneath. “Waffles or pancakes?”
Waffles it was.
She kissed his hand and couldn’t help but notice how good his nails looked for a construction worker. They looked perfectly manicured. And his hands, so soft, not hard and calloused.
The two of them finished dressing quickly, and strode out into the open air. This time, he didn’t hesitate to put his arm around her shoulders—pulling her into his side with a smile so bright, she’d swear she could light a room with it. This time, there wasn’t an ounce of caution or hesitation on his face, as he began rambling on about everything and nothing in particular, taking great pleasure in those frequent times he was able to make her laugh.
The waitress gestured them to a booth in the corner, and then left with a knowing smile.
“—at which point, I went online to research sea urchins and whether or not they happen to be poisonous,” he concluded with a grand relish, ripping open a packet of sugar and pouring it into his coffee. “Coincidentally, they’re not. At least, not the one that stabbed me.”
She shook her head in amazement, gazing across the table in sheer disbelief. When did a man on a construction salary have time to take a four week long vacation to Bermuda? On that note, how the hell was he able to take off two weeks right now? Without putting in any notice.
“It sounds like you’ve been everywhere,” she mused, lowering her eyes to the menu, before glancing up again at his face. “The Caribbean, Malta, Greece, New Zealand. I’m trying really hard not to be jealous. How could you possibly afford to do all that?”
His smile froze for a moment, before he cleared his face with a charming smile. “My parents took me. They were really big on travel.”
She nodded slowly, scanning his eyes for any trace of a lie. “Your parents—the teacher and the librarian? They had the money to travel all over the world?”
This time, the smile faded. Wilting his shoulders along with it. He bowed his head for a moment, looking as though there was something he would very much like to say. Then he sighed quietly, and flashed her a tight grin.
“You certainly do your homework.” It sounded like he wasn’t at all pleased about this little realization. “Is there anything else you found in my file that I should know about?”
She returned his forced smile with one of her own. “No...why?” Her head cocked curiously to the side. “Is there something you want to tell me?”
They froze at the same time. Staring across the table. Neither one willing to be the first to blink. Neither one willing to be the first to break.
“Hey there—are you folks ready to order?”
Lacy startled in surprise, then looked up in disappointment at the waitress.
Perfect timing. Right when I was FINALLY getting somewhere.
“Uh...yes.” She glanced once more at her menu. “I’ll have the Belgian—”
“Logan Chase?”