Banking the Billionaire (Bad Boy Billionaires Book 2)(48)
“Later,” I agreed. “When little ears aren’t around.”
“I’m holding you to that because you know I have got to know everything.” He pointed at me and winked. “Okay, so not that I don’t love that you’re here, but seriously, why are you here?”
“Well, as you can see, Mila is dressed to impress, but I’m kind of lacking,” I hinted. “I’m a sad excuse for a Directioner.”
He raised a sharp brow. “Who told you?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I lied. “I just felt like maybe you had some gear I could borrow.”
Dean definitely had the goods. A few years back, One Direction had had a tour stop in the city, and there was a pop-up store for fans inside Madison Square Garden. Georgia might have told me homeboy had cleaned out on anything and everything Brit boy-band themed.
“Don’t ask questions and follow me,” he said, striding out of his office. Mila looked up at me excitedly and pretended to zip her lips.
A few turns through back hallways I’d never been privy to venturing later, he ushered us inside a storeroom on the other side of the floor. Once he switched on the light, the entire room looked like a teenage girl had vomited up her fandom. The walls were lined with posters. There was not one, not two, but three racks cluttered with clothing. And cardboard cutouts of the band stood in the corner.
“Omigod! This is so cool!” Mila jumped up and down.
“I know,” Dean agreed. “This is my favorite place in the building.”
“I’m shocked Kline lets you use this for your undying One Direction love.” I glanced around the room, while Mila helped herself to the racks of clothes.
“We have an understanding.”
I raised an eyebrow, and it pulled one corner of my mouth up with it involuntarily. “You have an understanding?”
He flashed a secret smile. “Yeah, he understands that whatever he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”
I smiled full out. “Kline Brooks would lose his shit if he saw this.”
A hand went to his hip. “Well, good thing he’ll never know, right?”
“Cool it, diva,” I teased. “I won’t spill the deets on your shrine to One D.”
He feigned offense. “Oh, no, honey. You did not just call me a diva.”
“Oh, but I did,” I said, walking over by Mila.
“You’re lucky I refuse to corrupt the young and innocent. Otherwise, you’d be dealing with a full-on catfight, Cassandra.”
“Knock, knock,” I announced as Mila and I opened the door to Thatch’s office.
He glanced up from his computer, and a giant smile consumed his face.
My chest grew tight at the sight of his radiating affection, and I inhaled a cleansing breath to ease the discomfort.
Man, I probably needed to see a doctor. No one under thirty should be experiencing chest pain. Well, unless they dabbled in cocaine and attended drug-fueled raves on the weekends. Which, obviously, I didn’t.
Although, I could probably make good use of glow sticks with a naked Thatch. I’d rave all over his Supercock, minus the drugs of course. That man didn’t need any performance enhancers. Any increase to his stamina and my * would need a cane to hobble herself onto his dick.
Mila let go of my hand, ran around his desk, and hopped up into his lap. “Hi, Uncle Thatch!” she greeted and placed her hands on each side of his face before kissing his nose. “Ready to go?”
He nodded and kissed her forehead. “What’s on the agenda today, sweetheart?”
She jumped off his lap and handed him a T-shirt and hat out of her backpack. “You have to change your clothes first so everybody matches.”
He tilted his head to the side and glanced up at me. His eyes made the circuit down my body and then back up again—paying particular attention to my T-shirt that read, Liam is my spirit animal. They were fully amused by the time they met my gaze again.
“I’m supposed to wear these?” he asked Mila.
She nodded. “Yep. You’re gonna look so awesome!”
Five minutes later, Thatch was walking out of the en suite bathroom in his office and lifting Mila up to carry her piggyback style. He looked outrageous with a Niall is my boyfriend T-shirt stretched tight across his huge chest and a One Direction baseball cap worn backward on his head.
“How do I look, Mila?” he asked.
“So cool!” Mila said, resting her chin on his shoulder.
His eyes met mine and he grinned. “Next time, Aunt Cassie and I are going to switch. I like Liam more than Niall.”
“No way,” I disagreed, running a hand across the words on the front of my shirt. “You’ll have to fight me for this dreamboat.”
“I have no issues with wrestling you, Crazy.” He winked.
“Can we go?” Mila asked impatiently. “I’m hungry.”
Thatch grabbed his new wallet, keys, and phone and slid them into his pockets and managed it all with Mila still hanging from his back. “Let’s hit it,” he said and grabbed my hand, leading us out of his office and toward the elevator.
As we rode the cart down to ground level, I couldn’t stop myself from smiling as I looked at Thatch, decked out in One Direction fan gear, with Mila on his back. No man in his right mind would subject himself to this willingly.