The Billionaire Next Door (Billionaire Bad Boys #2)(84)

And now she was trying to be careful with him. He sat up and moved her so she was sitting next to him.

“I can take care of that for you.” The moment he offered, she opened her mouth to argue. He didn’t let her. “Those are my terms. I’m not fighting with you about this. You won’t let me take care of a room at the Crane for you, then you have to let me help you move. You don’t have time with two jobs, and Dean and Bree will be too busy moving themselves out to help you. Who else is going to do it?”

She closed her mouth and shook her head gently before admitting, “You make a good point.”

He was tired of backing her into a corner before she let him do nice things for her. This entire situation was born out of dire need on her part rather than her letting him treat her the way she deserved.

It was like she only trusted him so far; then she cut him off. Maybe that was what was bothering him.

Jittery, he stood, closed the pizza box, and swiped his empty bottle off the table, unsure what exactly about this conversation was bothering him. Was it her mention of the one ceremony he’d always avoided? Or was it simply that she didn’t let him in when he wanted to help?

“Another beer?” he offered, opening the fridge door.

“I’d better not. I’m still wiped from last night.”

He stared long and hard at the bottles lined up on a shelf in the fridge, before shutting the door without extracting a beer for himself. Then he paced around the kitchen, restless. Rachel yawned, slumping down in the corner of the couch.

Their paces couldn’t match less.

“I’m going to go to the gym for an hour or so. You good?” He could run off this frenetic energy and then maybe the fog in his brain would clear and he could get some sleep.

“I’m good.” She peered over the back of the couch. “Thank you again.”

“You’re welcome.” He hoisted the trash bag out of the plastic bin and tied it off. “I’ll take this out, too.”

She nodded. He nodded.

She hadn’t been uncomfortable around him since the first time he asked her to touch him. He wanted to ask if she was sure this worked for her, but didn’t want her to think he’d had second thoughts.

He watched her for a prolonged moment and then nodded again. “Be back in an hour, Dimples.”

“Tag?” she asked when he was at the front door.

“Yeah?” He turned to see her gripping the arm of the sofa, her chin resting on her hand.

“Do you need me to make up the guest bed?”

He scowled. What the hell?

He shifted, the plastic bag in his hand crinkling.

“Sorry. I’m being weird,” she said before he could argue. “Your bed. Of course.”

At the very least.

“Okay, see you.”

“Yeah, see you.”

He collected his gym bag and took the trash with him when he went, calling goodbye over his shoulder. In the entryway, he paused long enough to look back at the door, trying to decide if he’d helped or hurt their situation.

He and Rachel were good in bed, good at dinner, good at hanging out. But living together? Even temporarily…

What had he done?





Chapter 24



Good morning, Mr. Crane,” Bobbie greeted Tag as the elevator deposited him in front of her desk.

“Reese in there?” he asked, forgoing his normal banter.

“What, no ‘schnookums’?”

Bobbie’s ultracasual reaction made him blink in surprise. “Sorry, off my game today.”

In so many ways.

“I should say so.” She didn’t push him further, simply slipped back into her formal routine. “He returned from lunch ten minutes ago.”

“Good.”

Bobbie hit the intercom to announce him, but Tag mashed the button on her desk to open the office doors before she could. Reese, standing at his desk with a palm full of pink WHILE YOU WERE OUT notes, paused flipping through them. Behind Tag, the office doors whooshed shut.

“I need the number of your therapist.”

“Nice of you to call as usual,” Reese said, droll. “I don’t have a therapist.”

“She’s at my apartment.”

Reese’s brow crinkled. “Who?”

“Rachel Foster.” Tag walked to his usual seat, couldn’t sit, so he paced to the window. He turned and pointed at Reese. “This is your fault.”

His brother’s frown intensified.

“You were the one spewing that shit about how Mom’s death made the Crane boys scared of girls.” He waggled his fingers in front of him, realizing he probably looked and sounded crazed. “So what did I do? I leaned in to it. I let it happen. I told myself I wasn’t scared of anything, and now she lives with me.” He crammed his hands into his jeans pockets. “Kind of.”

Reese abandoned the notes and came out from behind his desk to stand in front of Tag. “I’m missing something.”

“Her roommate booted her out of her apartment because they’re leaving and transferring the lease. She was homeless. What was I supposed to do?”

“Be a good boyfriend and let her stay with you,” Reese answered with a shrug.

At the word boyfriend, Tag’s stomach flipped. He’d once told Rachel he wasn’t boyfriend material, and no matter what he was “leaning in to,” that hadn’t changed.