Sweet Billionaire Stepbrother(63)

“Are you going to tell me his name?” I asked tersely. I was still jetlagged and my sense of humor was seriously lacking. What if she said Seth Matthews?

“Why?”

“So I can punch his face if it’s not me. I didn’t come all this f*cking way to hear another dude’s name.”

The corners of her mouth twitched. “Yeah?”

“So tell me his name, dammit.” If she kept biting that lip it was going to bleed soon. With my index finger I pressed on her lower lip to loosen it from under her teeth. “Layla? Answer me.”

“If I have to tell you his name you don’t know me very well. At all.”

An African boy who had been watching us from a distance ran closer and threw his arms around Layla’s legs as he called her name.

“Joey, what’s wrong, sweetheart?”

Layla leaned over and picked him up. Instantly his arms went around her neck. “My Lala,” he told me, his black eyes warning me.

“Hello, Joey,” I said in a soothing voice to pacify him.

He didn’t reply. Just knit his brows together and gave me a death stare.

“Your Lala?” I asked, amused that he used the same nickname for her as I did. It also appeared as if—as young as what he was—he was as smitten with my girl as I was.

His reply was a sloppy wet kiss on her cheek. Man, this little dude was marking his territory early. He was going to be a heartbreaker when he grew up. Layla closed her eyes for a second as she absorbed the pleasure from the sweet kiss, laughing with delight. No wonder everyone loved her—she accepted love with such grace that it was impossible not to want to shower her with displays of affection.

I should know. I’m f*cking jealous of a damn kid.

“Hey, how about we both be her boyfriend? I’m willing to share if you are?”

“What’s your name?” he asked suspiciously. Tough customer.

I reached out a hand. Usually I was good with kids, but this one was resisting like f*ck. “My name is Grayson. And I already know yours is Joey. What do you say we shake on it?”

“Why do you wanna be her boyfriend?” He narrowed those dark eyes and stared me down. If he weren’t so damn serious, I’d have to laugh. But Joey would be insulted and I’d be screwed. I had to tread lightly here or be damned.

Layla, sweet girl, was finding it all way too amusing. The smile on her face widened. “Yeah, please tell us Grayson.”

Her too? I wasn’t getting off lightly.

“Well, Joey . . . I mean just look at her. She’s the most beautiful girl on the planet, isn’t she?”

He nodded enthusiastically. Okay, this was good. Joey had a natural eye for beauty and we had the same taste in women. Awesome.

Layla’s cheeks turned pink as she adjusted her ponytail with one hand. Fucking adorable.

“And she smells good too.”

He leaned in and sniffed her neck. Another nod, but still no smile.

“She’s smart, funny and sings like a bird.”

Joey shook his head.

“No?” I laughed.

“She can’t sing. But I’m teaching her.”

Layla feigned hurt by looking shocked. “Joey, you said you love when I sing.”

“Yeah, I do . . . ‘cause your accent is nice and I like your songs. But your voice isn’t for singing. Not like my Mama.”

From the mouth of babes . . . Dude had an ear for music too.

“What else?” Joey asked. I’d completely ruined my credibility.

“Well . . . can I tell you a secret? The most important reason?”

Layla knitted her brow. Four eyes burned into me. This was tough as f*ck. Never one to back down from challenges, I forged on.

“Because I love her, no more than that . . . I’m in love with her. I think about her day and night. I dream about her. I miss her when she’s gone.” I swallowed hard. “Is that a good enough reason?

Layla sucked in a long breath. Her eyes misted over; she blinked fast, trying to stop her tears.

Little dude dropped his mouth open a fraction. “You love my Lala?”

I nodded. “Yeah, I do. Very much. She’s the only woman for me.” Keeping my gaze locked with Layla’s, I continued, “I can’t breathe when she’s away from me. I can’t eat nor sleep. Can you understand that, Joey?”

“Um . . . not really.” At least he was honest. But I pitied him if that ever happened to him one day.

“Well let me tell you it’s sheer fu . . . um . . . torture.”

“Grayson,” Layla whispered.

“Lala eats plenty. And she sleeps a lot. Does that mean she doesn’t love you?”

My eyes closed for a few moments. I couldn’t bear the thought. If Joey was right, I’d be a broken man.

“Help me here, Joey. I need to know if she loves me as much as I love her. How will I know?”

For the first time his face brightened up. “Let’s ask her!”

Kid was a genius.

“Layla?” I breathed, waiting for her reply.