Banking the Billionaire (Bad Boy Billionaires Book 2)(94)

Conway Twitty? No.

“The Thong Song”? Nope.

“She Thinks My Tractor’s Sexy”? Jesus, take the wheel before someone in this small town dies from shitty music.

R. Kelly, “Stuck in the Closet”? Fuck no.

Shania Twain, “Any Man of Mine”? Okay, now this I can handle.

As I waited for the machine to process my credits, the dickhead from earlier decided to make his appearance. He leaned one greasy elbow against the wall and crowded my personal space.

“I’m Johnny. And you must be one of Thatch’s f*ck buddies.” His skeevy gaze honed in on my chest before it finally met my eyes.

I glanced around the room to find none of Johnny’s friends in sight and Thatch chatting with an older guy by the pool tables, his back to me.

Looks like I’m handling this * by myself. Game on.

“I’m his only f*ck buddy,” I corrected. “I’m his fiancée.”

“Oh, that’s f*cking fresh.”

I feigned confusion and battened down the hatches. This f*ckface was going to do his best to surprise me, but he didn’t have one goddamn clue who he was dealing with. “What was that, Joanie?”

“It’s Johnny, and I said that’s f*cking fresh.” He flashed an evil smile. “How much are New York hookers these days, dollface? I’m sure I’ve got enough cash on me tonight to take your * for a ride.”

Dollface? Man, oh man, this guy really had no idea who he was trying to f*ck with.

“Joanie, you wouldn’t know what to do with a * if it smacked you in the face and said lick my clit.”

His face turned hard as stone.

Obviously, I’d hit a nerve. Which wasn’t that hard to figure out. Guys like Johnny didn’t get *. Guys like Johnny got their right hand, a bottle of lube, and fuzzy porn in their parents’ basement. And if they did somehow manage to get some, they juggled and jostled it until it couldn’t take one more f*cking second.

“Aw, Joanie. It’s okay.” I schooled my face into a sympathetic smile. “One day you’ll find your perfect hooker who’s willing to take one for the team and let you pay her to f*ck you. Keep your chin up, Joanie. It’ll happen.”

He got all up in my personal space, his harsh breath smacking me in the face. “You must be a special kind of bitch. You’d have to be to marry a murderer.”

Murderer? Yeah. I knew without a doubt whatever bullshit Joanie was peddling was purely fiction. And now I understood why Thatch had ended up in jail the last time he was home.

The * just stood there, staring down at me, and his mouth morphed into a devious grin. That’s it, motherf*cker. Keep smiling, I thought to myself as I stared up at him, a spineless man picking fights with women who were half his size.

He had some balls; that was for f*cking sure.

But so did I. And mine were bigger.

“Cass—” Thatch called from behind me, but he was too late. No way was I walking away from this fight. And it’s not like I couldn’t defend myself. You didn’t walk around with a mouth like mine without knowing how to throw punches.

I reared back with my right arm and upper-cut Johnny hard enough to knock the grin straight off his face. His body crumpled to the ground within seconds.

I ignored the sting in my hand as I stood over his prone form and looked down at the pathetic display. “Who’s the bitch now, motherf*cker?”

“Cassie.” Thatch’s concerned voice grabbed my attention. He lifted me up and away from the scene of the crime, and his hands moved over my face, my arms, my shoulders, searching for any sign of injury. “Shit, honey. Are you okay?”

“Oh, I’m fine, T.”

His gaze was wild with concern. “What the f*ck happened?”

Thatch’s desire to kill the asswipe showed plainly on his face, so I chose my words carefully.

I pointed to Johnny, who was now being tapped in the stomach by the foot of the bartender.

“That guy, Joanie,” I responded. “He doesn’t have any manners.”

Thatch blinked three times like he couldn’t process what I was saying.

“Wait…did you just call him Joanie?”

“Oh, is that not his name?” I feigned confusion.

He barked out a laugh. “His name is Johnny. But I have a feeling you already knew that.”

I flashed a knowing smirk.

Thatch’s eyes turned from murderously concerned to filled with hilarity in the span of a heartbeat. “So, you took it upon yourself to teach Joanie some manners?”

I shrugged. “Obviously, someone had to.”

“This shit can’t keep happening every time you stop by, Thatch,” Charlie grumbled behind us as he tried to rouse a snoozing Johnny. “I’m calling the sheriff.”

“C’mon, Charlie,” Thatch begged as he stared down at me with a tickled grin. “Just let it go. He assaulted my fiancée.”

I grinned back.

God, we were both f*cking insane. It made my belly flutter and my smile consume my face until I felt like my cheeks might burst.

Charlie laughed incredulously. “He didn’t lay a finger on your fiancée. I watched it all from behind the bar. And you know this cocksucker is gonna try to press charges the second he comes to. Hell if I’m going to be the one who has to deal with Miller tomorrow morning.”