The Billionaire Book Club

If I take the book, she’s going to know I was going through her stuff.

I sigh heavily, walk back to her desk, and return the book to the drawer, careful to leave it exactly how I found it.

A scowl settles onto my face, though, as I consider how much it’s going to bother me if I don’t find out the rest of the damn story.

Frustrated, I finish closing up and jump on the elevator, clicking the button I know does nothing a million and a half times.

Eventually, the cart starts its descent, and I take out my phone to look for bookstores between here and Thatch and Cassie’s Manhattan apartment.

A whole list comes up, several within a block or so of the Kellys’.

When the elevator dings its arrival in the lobby, I step off to a waiting Vinny, who falls into step beside me.

“Mr. Hawkins.”

“Hey, Vin. Listen, I wanna make a stop on 33rd and 6th. You think we have time to do that and still make it to Thatch’s place by seven?”

He looks at his watch, scans the traffic outside, and nods. “You got it, boss.”

I smile as he opens the door and leads the way to the car.

Sometimes, it really pays to have a wizard for a driver.

The smoke is thick and the whiskey strong as we fumble our way into our thirtieth hand of the night.

I’ve got two kings, two queens, and a jack, and still, I can’t focus for shit. I’m too busy thinking about the book burning a hole in the chest pocket of my suit jacket and the woman who’s reading it.

How the fuck do I bring it up now, without looking like a total psychopath?

“You guys ever read for pleasure?”

Orrr you could just bring it up out of nowhere, my brain mocks. Great idea.

Trent looks up with a suspicious brow, Thatch lights a cigar, and Theo tosses out two of his cards to get new ones.

“Sure,” Kline says, though, looking up slowly from his hand. “I was reading this great novel about philosophy by—”

I roll my eyes and cut him off. “Yeah, no. That’s not really the kind of stuff I have in mind.”

Harrison pipes in. “I started the new Jack Reacher novel about a month ago. Been too busy to finish it, though.”

Theo shrugs as Trent and Quince both look at me like I’ve grown another head. I pause, consider my options, and decide I might as well just fucking say it. “I started reading a romance novel earlier today. It’s pretty good.”

“Excuse me?” Trent says, a whisper of an annoying fucking smile making him look like a prick.

I roll my eyes again.

The rest of the group starts to laugh a little bit, except, surprisingly, Thatch. The big fucker grins and nods. “I dabble in romance occasionally, my man. Actually, Cassie started writing a bit, and I was beta reading most of it. The kids have become a little overwhelming as of late, though, and she hasn’t had as much time.”

“I’m sorry,” Trent says with a laugh. “I’m still trying to figure out where the fuck this came from.”

I shake my head and sweep my real intentions under the rug. No need to give them any actual details now. “It’s just small talk, Turn. Jesus.”

“No,” he says through a rolling laugh. “I don’t think it is. Quince, what do you think?”

Quince smiles, the fucker. “Why, yes, Trent. I think something’s going on.”

I toss my cards down and replace them with two middle fingers. “Fuck you, guys. Can’t a guy just start reading for the sake of reading?”

Theo cracks a smile, and that’s how I know I’m in trouble. Obviously, I got way too defensive.

Theo doesn’t really speak much, unless there’s something important to say, and he hardly ever gets involved in the petty bullshit. All in all, he’s a quiet, thoughtful guy. Pretty much the opposite of me, to be honest. “I was on your side until you said that, dude. Now I know something is going on.”

I sigh, shuffle my cards around on the table, and run a hand through my hair. I should have known bringing it up would have consequences. They’re going to make me start blabbing in two point five seconds.

But how the hell am I going to do that?

These guys will never understand my real reasoning here—strategizing to get into Ruby Rockford’s undoubtedly perfect pussy—much less condone it. They’ll give me shit and call the pope and the governor, send out an emergency alert, tweet Ruby directly, and then set up their chicks as some kind of electric-shock, high-voltage fence, meant to zap off my dick if I even come close to the beautiful blond-haired, blue-eyed woman.

But I really could use their help…

Inspiration strikes suddenly, and my dick gives me a proverbial pat on the back.

Yeah. I’m certain. It’s the perfect idea. And if I just smudge the truth, put a little more performance into my backstory, maybe they’ll be my accomplices without even realizing the endgame.