Tapping The Billionaire (Bad Boy Billionaires #1)(110)

Everyone in the crowd was a mixture of laughing, clapping, and wolf whistling.

Once we settled down, Georgia gazed at Kline like she would happily crawl inside him and stay there and said the rest of her vows.

“But most of all, I vow to love you with everything that I am, no matter the circumstances, because I know, from the very depths of my tiny, perfect being, that you will be there, doing your best to love me more.”

And when the minister told Kline to kiss his bride.

He motherf*cking kissed his bride so good it made my toes curl.





“Congratulate me, boys,” Kline toasted with a glass of scotch in the air, the happiest I’d seen the f*cking sap in ages.

His body was here with us, but his mind and his eyes were on his boogeying bride on the other side of the dance floor. The space was fairly small. At least, this room known as The Greenhouse was. They’d rented out the entirety of The Foundry out of nothing more than necessity. Kline liked to think his life was boring and normal and that no one cared at all, but the truth was they did. They cared a lot. And keeping such an important event completely private was the only way to maintain his happy little bubble of make-believe.

“That,” he said with a slightly tipsy gesture, “is my wife.”

I laughed and slapped him on the shoulder, exchanging smiles with Wes behind his back. I raised my eyebrows in question, and Wes gave me a pursed-lip nod of agreement.

“Go get her,” I urged simply, knowing he wanted to be with her a million times more than he wanted to stand here and shoot the shit with us.

And, regardless of what people might have thought they knew about me, that was fine by me. My oldest, closest friend had found it. Found her.

Always loyal and loving, I couldn’t think of anyone who deserved it more than he did.

“Benny!” he yelled, pulling her attention from the crowd of women around her to him. “Make room on the floor. I’m coming for my dance!” The wattage of her smile was blinding.

I stood next to Wes and watched as Kline danced his way over to her, pulling her into his arms and handing off his drink to the first, unsuspecting free hand he came to so he could hold on to her with both hands. Hands to her jaw and lips to hers, he kissed her in a way that I felt all the way in my stomach.

“Good God, he’s a goner,” Wes remarked, sinking into the wall and tipping his drink to his lips.

“Yep,” I agreed, thinking about the vows they’d exchanged during the ceremony.

“It’s nice,” I added without thought—because it was.

Wes laughed way harder than I thought was appropriate. “Jesus. Who are you and what have you done with Thatcher Kelly?” He morphed his face into what he thought was a good impression of me and mocked, “It’s nice!” with a wobble of his head.

I punched him hard enough in the shoulder that he stopped laughing abruptly.

“Ow! Fuck, Thatch! Christ.”

“It is nice,” I told him again, further delving into the teachings of his lesson. “Take f*cking note from your most experienced of friends. Multiple flavors of * are great, but what our f*cking goner of a friend found is better.”

He looked at me like he didn’t know what to make of me.

“The two of them stood up in front of God and us and committed to each other forever with enough trust in each other to speak one another’s words rather than their own. That, motherf*cker, is love.”

Powerful speech performed, lesson conveyed, I felt content with my message until Wes went and f*cking ruined it.

“Jesus, f*ck, The Foundry must be some sort of Twilight Zone. I don’t even know who you guys are anymore,” he teased, chuckling into his bourbon.

“One day, Lancaster, when it happens to you, I will remember this moment.” I drained the rest of my drink and walked away.




Moving away from the bulk of the crowd, I sat down at a table that was mostly empty. My phone buzzed in my pocket.

I thought it might be the tattoo shop, checking in to see if I’d be there tonight, but instead, I found a number I didn’t recognize.



Unknown: She’s a lot older than you normally go for, but it looks like you’ve got a chance.



I looked around, wondering what the f*ck whoever this was was talking about. Quickly, I typed out a message.



Me: Who is this?



A reply came almost immediately.



Unknown: Your mom.



I was no less confused, but hell if I didn’t f*cking laugh.



Me: WTF. Who is this?



Unknown: The hot bitch at the head table.



I looked up across the dance floor as the crowd parted in front of me. Cassie, the craziest bitch I’d ever encountered and Georgia’s maid of honor, sat all by her lonesome at the wedding party’s table, one leg cocked and her bare foot in the chair beside her. She popped her eyebrows in a mischievous challenge.

This chick had balls, sitting there by herself, just kicked back and relaxed with zero f*cks given about it. Fuck, Cassie’s balls might have been bigger than mine, and that was saying something.



Me: How’d you get my number?



Unknown: I have my ways.



Cryptic. Another message came right on its heels.