The Billionaire Next Door (Billionaire Bad Boys #2)(97)

Tag’s girlfriend, Rachel, followed him, a bottle of wine in each hand.

“Hey, Rach,” Merina greeted, setting the last place. She accepted one of the bottles and spun the label around. “Ohh, good choice.”

“It’s a customer favorite. Or was, when I bartended.”

Reese filtered in next, wearing his suit from work. Merina loosened his tie, standing on her toes to press a lengthy kiss to his lips.

“Sexy man,” she murmured.

“Vixen,” Reese commented, his hand on her ass.

Patience shot, Eli gestured at the dishes on the table and bellowed, “Can someone please explain why we can’t eat Chow Main out of the containers like normal human beings instead of dealing with this bullshit?”

He crossed his arms over his chest and glared at his family, all of whom had their eyes glued on him. Merina clucked her tongue. Reese looked mildly irritated. Rachel bit her bottom lip and stepped closer to Tag, who opened his mouth and let out a hearty laugh.

At that laugh, the tone of the room shifted back to light and fluffy, and the chattering continued as Rachel and Tag unloaded the food onto the table.

It seemed the only person Eli was capable of scaring off were assistants. His family was entirely immune to him.

“We’re here,” came a call from across the warehouse. Eli looked over to see his father, Alex, and his assistant, Rhona, file in together, her hand in his. It’d been recently discovered that Alex and Rhona were partnering in more than business, and since Eli’s old man was retired and had been for some time, Eli guessed that Alex and Rhona were partnering more often than not on a personal level.

“Hey, Eli.” Rhona pulled a patterned scarf from her neck—it was only September, so he had no idea why the scarf—and smiled brightly at him.

He lifted a hand and gave a brief wave. Rhona merged into the fray, cooing over the wine as Merina apologized about not knowing she was coming and pulled an extra set of dishes from the cabinet. A low sigh worked its way through Eli’s chest as he watched.

Happy. Every last goddamn one of them.

“Beer, bro?” Tag asked, collapsing next to him into a chair. His brother’s hair was down in golden-brown waves, his beard full like Eli’s, but neatly trimmed, not like Eli’s.

Eli accepted the bottle. “What, no frosted glass? Shouldn’t we have coasters?” He gestured to the set table, in the center of which rested a bowl of oranges his last assistant brought over. She’d probably been instructed by Reese to monitor his vitamin C intake.

“It’s been half a year, E,” Tag said, leaning back in the chair and sucking down some of his own beer. “You’re going to have to get used to us being in your face. We missed you.” That last bit accompanied an elbow jab, and Eli, though he grunted on the outside, knew they’d missed him. He’d missed them. Just because his brothers’ (and hell, now his father’s) happiness was soul-sucking didn’t mean he didn’t love them. He just wished they’d be adorably coupled off somewhere far, far away from Eli’s sanctuary.

“I can go out into public you know,” he grumbled, setting the bottle down next to his plate. “You guys don’t have to come in here and serve me.”

“Oh, but we do, Lord Crane.” Merina smiled as she leaned over and handed him a glass. “We know you don’t want to deal with the public right now. Trust me, I spent enough time with the media breathing down my neck. I don’t blame you.”

Eli liked Merina. She was tough. She was bold and clearly had enough forearm strength to pull the stick out of Reese’s ass. At least partway. Eli had never seen his oldest brother this…joyous. And now that Reese was living a utopic existence with his dreams coming true, he wanted Eli on board to tiptoe in the tulips alongside him.

No, Reese wasn’t through pressuring Eli into coming back on at Crane Hotels full-time, but he had lightened up some. As evidenced when he returned to the dining room sans tie and jacket. Unlike Tag, Reese was always suited. Tag was the opposite, typically in cargo pants and a skintight Henley to show off the biceps he pumped into ridiculous sizes.

Eli was as comfortable in a suit as out of one. He could don fatigues, jeans and tee, or Armani and feel like himself. The clothes, in his case, did not make the man. Even his body didn’t make the man, though Eli had worked his ass off to maintain his. The better shape he was in, the better he felt about the leg.

“The media doesn’t give a shit about me,” Eli said. Just the way he liked it.

“They will when we name you COO,” Reese piped up.

Eli sent him a death glare. Reese didn’t flinch. Eli’s sleeve of tattoos and surly attitude didn’t intimidate his oldest brother. Reese knew him when he sleepwalked to the neighbor’s house, so he wasn’t about to be intimidated by a grumpy ex-Marine.

“We found you a new PA,” Reese said.

“No.”

“She starts next week,” he continued as if Eli hadn’t spoken.

“Well done, Reese.” Alex took his seat. He leaned an elbow on the table and smiled through a snow-white goatee at Eli, looking very “Most Interesting Man in the World” in that position.

“You’re wasting your time. I’ve told you repeatedly, I’m not interested in Chief Pencil Pusher, but if you insist, Clip…”