Tapping Her (Bad Boy Billionaires #1.5)(29)

I grinned, standing on my tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “Don’t worry, T-bag, I’ll set time aside out of my busy schedule to brighten your day with my beautiful voice.”

He smiled back, eyes amused. “At the very least, shoot me a text so I know you made it there safely.”

“You got it,” I agreed. “Bye, Thatch,” I said, turning and heading for my apartment.

A smack to my ass startled a squeal from my lips and stopped my feet dead in their tracks. I turned back around to find him smirking and walking backward in the opposite direction.

“Be good, Cass!”

“I don’t know about that, Thatcher! I’m feelin’ a bit wild!”

“Be. Good,” he demanded and then turned on his heels, getting lost in the crowd.

Be good?

What in the f*ck did that even mean? And more importantly, why did I care?

He didn’t have a say in what I did or didn’t do. But f*ck, he sure had a say in whether or not he wiggled his way into my head. Like a leech, he had taken up residence in my thoughts, and I wasn’t sure how to get rid of him.

Did I even want to?





New York, Monday, May 1st, Late Afternoon





I was damn near bouncing in the car as Frank drove us to the vet’s office to pick up Walter. In the two weeks since I’d seen him, he’d been forced to spend time with Cassie and Thatch and gone missing. I could hardly fathom the thought of him roaming the city streets by himself, but bearing Cassie’s disdain probably wasn’t much better.

“Little excited, Benny?” Kline asked, placing a soothing hand on my thigh to stop my leg from bouncing.

I held out my thumb and forefinger, adding, “Just a little bit.”

He grinned, wrapping his arm around my shoulders and tucking me close to his side.

Instead of going home and catching some shut-eye after a long flight, I had convinced Kline to go straight from the airport to pick up my little buddy. Well, maybe less convinced, more told him if he didn’t go, I still was. Walter didn’t need to stay another night in a cold crate. He needed to be home with his family.

Kline kissed my forehead. “Thanks for a wonderful honeymoon, Mrs. Brooks.”

I looked up at him, my heart in my eyes. “Likewise, Mr. Brooks. I’ll probably be bow-legged for the next three months, but I had the best time. You’re real good at honeymoons.”

He smirked, tucking a lone curl behind my ear. “Who says that treatment stops after the honeymoon? Consider yourself thoroughly well-f*cked and bow-legged for the next hundred years.”

I laughed, grinning back at him. “If you can still f*ck me like that when we’re ninety years old, you’re not real.”

“Should I expect a blood test? A surgical examination?”

“Gross.”

One perfect eye shut in a wink. “I’m real, Benny. Really in f*cking love with my wife, and love has the power to do crazy things. I’m just hopeful those things include giving a ninety-year-old man the stamina to keep his pretty little wife satisfied.”

“Jesus. Cool it on the swoon, you bastard. I might actually pass out from it.”

He didn’t cool it, though—his blue eyes still smoldered.

“Kline!” I smacked his chest. “I’m being serious.”

“No, you’re not.” He leaned in close, whispering in my ear, “You love the swoon. In fact, you’re already thinking about how to get me naked the second we get home.”

“Shut up,” I said through a giggle. He wasn’t too far off base with that one though. My mind was considering the backseat of the car, but I’d keep that to myself.

He laughed and placed a soft kiss on my lips. “You won’t have to try very hard.” His nose rubbed mine and his voice dropped to a whisper. “With me, you’ll never even have to ask.”

Like I said, swoony motherf*cking bastard.

God, I loved him.




I should’ve known things weren’t going to go smoothly the minute we stepped into the vet’s office. Few words were spoken in exchange with the receptionist, but as soon as we mentioned we were there to pick up Walter, utter panic consumed her face. She muttered something about getting Julie and then strode off without another word. A bad omen.

Fifteen minutes and a brief video on veterinarian-office safety later, we were standing in front of the crate of a Great Dane named Stan. I knew that video wasn’t standard procedure.

“We’re actually here to pick up Walter,” Kline instructed. “Walter is a cat.”

Julie pointed to the cage. “Yeah, well, Walter is actually inside there.”

We looked at one another, confused.

“What do you mean he’s in there?” I asked.

“He’s really taken a liking to Stan and quite adamantly refuses to be anywhere but curled up next to Stan’s back.”

“He’s taken a liking to this giant dog? This giant, male dog?” Kline questioned, eyes wide.

“Honestly, I’ve never seen anything like it,” Julie admitted. “They seem very attached to one another.”

“Christ.” Kline ran his hand through his hair, visibly disturbed by the whole scenario.

I leaned toward the cage, peering inside until I saw the fluff of multicolored dark and light fur that was Walter. “Holy moly, he’s really in there.”