The Billionaire Next Door (Billionaire Bad Boys #2)(54)

She’d liked it too. As much as she’d been tempted to slot Tag into the fun-for-now column, she couldn’t help noticing that every time he interacted with her, he hinted that he wasn’t going anywhere.

She was still grinning like an idiot the next day when she walked with him to the pool bar at the Crane Makai. He’d taken her to a surfing lesson that morning as promised. Mostly, she’d practiced paddling on the sand and then paddling in the water. Popping up on the board was difficult for her. Tag had done it with relatively little effort.

He was irritatingly good at everything he did. It was unfair.

Of all things, her toes hurt, having used the muscles in her feet the most to keep her balanced. She’d managed to push upright, but into more of a hunch than a stand. She’d tumbled into the waves several times. Tag pulled her to the surface and praised her on her attempts and then delivered wet, salty kisses to her lips.

Yeah. She liked surfing.

She was beginning to wonder how she’d return to life after Hawaii, as this was the most pleasant daydream of her life. Since she’d met him, she was living in a fantasyland in every imaginable way.

Queen bartender Karina greeted Rachel pleasantly enough when Tag introduced them. He pointed out where he’d be hanging out with his laptop and notebook—a chair on the far side of the pool.

“You need me, Dimples, you just yell,” he told her, and then right in front of Karina, planted a kiss on Rachel’s lips before walking to his seat.

“How long have you been dating?” Karina asked after a brief instruction on the cash register. As luck would have it, it was the same brand they had at Andromeda, so there wasn’t much of a learning curve.

“Oh. Um. I don’t know. We’re friends. Neighbors, sort of,” she said. “Or, that’s how we started. Things develop sometimes.”

Karina harrumphed, her dark eyes rolling as she wiped down the surface of the bar. Rachel watched her for a moment before deciding she wasn’t going to avoid the question bouncing around like a pink, winged elephant.

“You look at him like either you’ve dated him before or you want to. Which one is it?”

The bar towel stopped mid-swipe, and Karina’s eyes bulged. Rachel had shocked her. Tag’s ability to make bold statements had rubbed off on her. She stood waiting for an answer, not the least bit apologetic for asking.

“It’s okay,” Rachel told the other woman. “I’m not jealous. I noticed the way you look at him. I can tell it’s one of the two.”

Cheeks ruddy, Karina managed a smile of reproach. “I—we’ve never dated. I’m attracted to him. I mean how could you not be?” she mumbled.

Rachel gave a nod of agreement, remembering how she’d been confounded at her attraction to him. He was the exact opposite of what she thought was her type.

“He never saw me the same way,” Karina continued. “Not the way he looks at you. He’s got a puppy love thing going.”

Puppy love. Things between Tag and Rachel were nowhere near that innocent, but Rachel wasn’t about to expound.

They got to work, her and Karina for the first hour; then the same male bartender she’d met previously—Craig—stepped behind the bar to help. He was even more excited to hear Rachel wasn’t accepting tips since it meant he and Karina would split the cash fifty-fifty.

A few hours in, Rachel had hit her rhythm and there was no need to ask where anything was or how the flow of the bar worked.

But that didn’t mean it was easy.

She had plenty of suggestions on how to improve things after being back here for one evening. The crowd thinned around ten o’clock, and Rachel did her share of the closing duties. She found Tag right where he said he’d be, and somehow he’d looked up as if he felt her watching him.

His smile was small, but one reserved for her. She held up both hands to show she’d be done in ten minutes.

He gave her the thumbs-up and a wink that made her stomach clench.

*



Watching Rachel in action—and not only when he was getting some action—Tag was becoming increasingly aware this thing between them wasn’t going to end when they arrived home to Chi-town.

There was no way he was done with her, and given her reactions, he had a good idea she wasn’t done with him either.

She was fun to shower with. Fun to have sex with. Fun to talk with over dinner, to watch as she fell in the water and tried, tried, and tried again to surf. He didn’t care if she was ever good at it; he cared that she was willing to try.

She didn’t give up easily, she was a fast learner, and as he’d observed tonight watching her run the bar, she was damn good at her job.

Marketing required different skills than bartending, and yet she was adept at both. Behind the bar she was friendly and fast, and he could tell every time he’d glanced up at her that she was assessing the most efficient way things should be done.

Yet she didn’t run roughshod over Karina, even though during his observations, he’d noticed Rachel debating whether or not to move a bottle of liquor to a lower shelf. Instead, she’d stood on her toes and put it back on the high shelf where it’d gone.

He’d been counting down the hours until she was off work, unsure when the crowd would die down and give her an excuse to make a break for it, and not for reasons anyone would have guessed. Not to take her into bed.