Banking the Billionaire (Billionaire Bad Boys, #2)(8)

"I've known him just as long as I've known my husband, and still, I  don't know everything. He can be quite the mystery, but I'm not even  sure he intends for it to be that way. Thatch is the kind of guy who's  open and honest but doesn't exactly take it upon himself to open up, if  you know what I mean."

"Yeah, I'm noticing that." I mean, I hadn't known about the tattoo parlor until today.

"But he's a good guy." She unclenched her hands, tossed the towel on the  counter, and smiled as she looked out the window. "Underneath all of  that charming swagger and big ego, he's got an even bigger heart."

My gaze followed hers back outside. I watched Thatch lift Mila up and  throw her over his shoulder, running around the yard while all of her  friends chased them, giggling and smiling as they ran. It didn't take a  genius to see Claire was right. My chest ached from the overwhelming  cuteness of it all.

Claire turned off the faucet with a muttered, "Oops," as though she'd  forgotten to do it before. After a deep breath, she hitched a hip  against the counter and faced me, eyes all-knowing. "He's basically a  big teddy bear when you get to know him." She winked and put a kind hand  to my arm. "Just go easy on him, okay? He hasn't necessarily had the  easy road when it comes to relationships."         

     



 

I shook my head, and my eyes made an attempt to bug out of my head. "Oh, we're not in a relationship."

"I know," she said, smirking. "But I also know Thatch enough to know he's fucking tenacious."

I grinned at the fact it was the first f-bomb I'd heard Claire drop  since we got to her house, but I guessed little ears would do that.

"Tenacious?" I questioned, oddly amused.

She nodded and raised her eyebrows. "Especially when there's a hot chick with a fantastic rack involved."

That made me laugh. "Thanks."

"Thanks for helping me clean up. Everyone else is all about the eating,  but when the dish soap comes out, they scatter like rats."

"No problem." What I didn't tell her was that I probably would have been  with the other rats had I not been trying to make some sort of  quasi-positive first impression. "Thanks for letting me crash Mila's  party."

"You brought a present," she pointed out through a laugh. "I'd say you  pretty much won my daughter over the second she saw the cat on your  shirt and watched you pull a brand-new Barbie out of your purse … " She  paused for a second, and then added, "Before I head back into the  backyard, I have to know one thing."

I tilted my head to the side. "What's that?"

She nodded toward my chest. "They're real, right?"

Fuck, I loved Claire already. She was sweet and honest yet had no qualms  about saying whatever was on her mind. I was hoping this wouldn't be  the first and last time we hung out. This was a chick I could definitely  get along with.

"Definitely real."

"I knew it!" she exclaimed as she walked toward the back door, opening  it and shouting toward her husband, "You owe me twenty bucks, Frankie!"

He just laughed, and Thatch shot him a questioning glance. Frankie held  out both hands in front of his chest, and Thatch immediately knew,  chuckling in response. "I told you, dude."

"I want twenty bucks!" Mila yelled as she came barreling across the yard  and through the door. She stopped once she reached the kitchen, hands  on her little knees and lungs taking deep breaths. "Why does Daddy owe  you monies?"

"Because he keeps forgetting that Mommy is always right," Claire answered and smiled in my direction.

"Girls are always right, Mila," I agreed. "Never forget that."

She put her hand on her hip and eyed me with a serious face. "But that's not what Patrick says."

"Who's Patrick, baby?" Claire asked, cupping a loving hand around Mila's sweet cheek.

"He's just some stupid boy in my class. He says boys are smarter than girls, and I'm the biggest dumb fathead of them all."

Oh, poor little asshole Patrick. He'd be in for a rude awakening when he  got older. I had the urge to give him a come-to-Jesus moment now, but  for some reason, society frowned on that kind of interaction with  children.

"Sometimes boys say mean things when they like a girl." Claire sighed,  visibly just as annoyed with a six-year-old boy as I was but trying to  be diplomatic about it.

She shook her head. "Patrick doesn't like me. He pulls on my pigtails and chases me on the playground."

Claire and I exchanged a knowing look.

"You want to know a secret about boys, Mila?" I asked.

She nodded with enthusiasm.

"Come here, I have to whisper so your mommy doesn't hear."

Mila skipped over to me and put her hand on my shoulder, tugging me down to her level. "Tell me! Tell me! I love secrets!"

Claire just watched on with amusement as I whispered some very valuable  advice into Mila's ear. When I was done, she covered her lips and  giggled.

"Don't ever forget that, okay?"

She held out her pinkie finger and wrapped it around mine. "I pinkie promise, Aunt Cassie."

My heart squeezed.

"Oh, baby, she's not your aunt. She's just Uncle Thatch's friend," Claire interjected, flashing me an apologetic look.

"Yeah, but her and Uncle Thatch are gonna get married and have a baby  and they's gonna take me and my new baby cousin to Disney World! We're  gonna have so much fun!"

I wasn't sure how in the hell to respond to that, which was a first for me. I generally had a retort to every-fucking-thing.

"Mila!" Claire laughed in horror.

"What?" she asked, not the least bit concerned she'd just planned out my future. "Uncle Thatch said it was a really good idea!"

"Of course, he did," I muttered and met Claire's tickled gaze.         

     



 

"Tenacious," she mouthed with a wink.

"Mila! It's time for presents, baby girl," Frankie called loudly enough  that we heard him. Mila ran out the door at a dead sprint, straight for  the picnic table covered in pink wrapping paper and sparkly ribbons.

As Claire and I followed her outside, she whispered in my direction, "What'd you tell Mila?"

I grinned. "Everything you probably wanted to say but didn't because you're a good mother."

"I hope you told her to kick that little asshole in the nuts."

I winked. "Oh, don't worry, it was definitely something along those lines."

She laughed, wrapping her arm around my shoulder. "Remind me to tell  Thatch he's not allowed to come to our house unless you're with him."

"No doubt, I'll tell him while I'm buying our future child's and your daughter's plane tickets to Orlando."

For now, I'll give him a taste of his own medicine.





I watched as Cassie took off down the street, knowing her foot must have  been nearly to the floor. She'd excused herself while I was saying my  good-byes, her plan only evident when I heard the little hamster engine  of the Fiat roar to life.

I shot out the front door at a jog, but she was already pulling away from the curb, my bag still inside.

"Looks like you're going to need a ride," Frankie said as he slowly came up beside me.

I forced a shrug as her fading taillights burned in my chest. "I  probably should have warned her about coming here when I begged her to  come bail me out this morning."

A woman like her only puts up with so much.

"Yeah, what's that about?" he asked.

"It's not important."

"Ah, okay. I'll take that to mean the opposite. Our friendly hometown is still giving you hell about my sister."

I nodded even though it wasn't a question, but I said nothing else. He  didn't need to know it wasn't a remark about Margo that had upset me the  most. It had been the comment about him that crawled under my skin. I  turned to head into the house just as Mila came running out the front  door. The sound of tires screeching to a stop filled the void behind me.  Craning to look over my shoulder, I found Leadfoot Leann right back  where she'd started.

"Thatcher!" Cassie yelled, apparently having circled the block. "Get over here and get in the car!"

Her smile was ear to ear, and there was nothing I could do to stop it  from spreading to my own face. Cassie winked, but it wasn't at me.  Curiosity made me turn around to find the source.

Mila stood there giggling and pointing at Cassie as Cassie pointed back at her.

"What did I say?" Cassie yelled through the open window of the car.

Mila's little voice was shrill as she shouted back. "Give boys hell!"

"Mila!" Claire admonished, but Frankie just laughed.

"Okay, now I really like her," he said, referring to my crazy driver. Safe to say he wasn't the only one.

I'd thrown her into the lion's den, for fuck's sake, but she'd  flourished. Socializing and mingling without me and owning her yoga  pants and T-shirt like a motherfucking gown. I still couldn't figure out  the birthday gift she'd managed to pull from her purse.