Billionaires Dollar Series

She blinks at me. “Wow.”

“That just sounds very experienced. I got checked last September,” she says, that beautiful blush spreading over her cheeks again. “Haven’t had sex without a condom since.”

Her blush makes me think she hasn’t had sex with one since then either. Something in my chest constricts, and I pull her up into sitting, kissing her again. “Then we’re good.”

She kisses me back. “I’m glad I spent the night when this is what I wake up to.”

“Me too.”

Her hand slips into mine, and then she’s pulling me toward my master bathroom again, a glint in her eyes. “Come on. We need to shower.”

“Do we?”

“Yes,” she says, and then I’m lifting her up, her naked body warm against mine. It’s one of the longest showers I’ve ever taken.

Skye leaves early afternoon. Her hair is half-dried and braided down her back, her cheeks flushed with exertion. She kisses me in the hallway.

It’s a sweet kiss, her arms twined around my neck. “Bye,” she murmurs.

“Bye,” I murmur back, watching her as she retreats into the elevator, a smile on her lips as the doors shut.

When she’s gone from view, I lean against the wall and close my eyes.

This is getting out of control, slipping out of my grasp, a lot faster than I had anticipated. A dangerous suggestion had hovered on my tongue and I’d had to force it down. Stay for lunch. Spend the day with me.

What would we do? Read books? Watch TV? Go for a walk?

Casual, Porter. She wanted casual, and so did you. She still hates me-she says so regularly. The feeling isn’t exactly mutual, but I know we have a deadline. The only hope I have of continuing to see her, and having the best sex of my life, is for the bookstore to succeed.

Which means I have incentive to work against my own best business interests.

“Fucking hell,” I say, leaning my head against the wall. I’m thirty-four. I’ve had my share of relationships, both longer and shorter. Yet somehow, Skye Holland has gotten me to consider betraying my own ambition, the one thing that had always served as a guiding star in my life.

And damn it if that doesn’t scare me.

“Here you go,” I say. “And thank you. Your support means the world to us, truly.”

The teenager smiles at me, slipping one of our newly minted loyalty cards into his bag. “No, thank you. I’ve been looking for this series everywhere!”

“It’s a great one,” I say. “I read all of them when I was your age.”

He nods, tugging at his cap. With his dark hair and glasses, it’s easy to imagine Timmy like that a few years in the future. “I’m sure I’ll be back to get the rest,” he says. “Thanks!”

The bell attached to the front door jingles as he leaves and I’m left grinning like a fool. That was our millionth customer of the day.

A slight exaggeration, perhaps, but not by much. There’s definitely more traffic today than a normal day just a few weeks ago.

Whatever we’re doing is working.

I look around Between the Pages, at the familiar nooks and crannies. At Eleanor’s old armchair in the corner. I breathe in the scent of new books. “We’re doing it,” I tell the store, the armchair, myself. “We’re actually pulling it off!”

With less than two weeks until the deadline, Karli and I’ve had to make a pact to stop obsessing over the numbers or we’d be calling Chloe thrice daily for her latest calculations. Profitable means we have to be in the green. We can’t count on future sales; we can’t break even. We have to make more than we need to be allowed to stay.

As if my thoughts have conjured him, my number-one enemy calls. I glance around the bookstore to make sure it’s empty before I answer. “Hello,” I say, a stupid smile in my voice. “Are you taking a break from world domination to call me?”

Cole’s voice is dark and velvety. “Yes. Feel honored.”

“Oh, I do. Just to be in your presence is a blessing.”

He snorts. “If I thought you were being serious, I’d ask if you’d fallen and hit your head. Are you alone in the store today?”

“Yes, Karli has the day off today.”

“Perfect. Closing soon?”

“Yes, at six.” I’m curious now, craning my neck to look out at the curb. “Why? Are you coming by?”

“I could tell you, or I could show you.”

“Mhm,” I say. “Show don’t tell is one of the pillars of good storytelling, you know.”

“You’re the weirdest.”Text © by N0ve/lDrama.Org.

“Well, at least I excel at something.”

His voice warms. “At many things. See you soon, Holland.”

He walks through the front door not ten minutes later. In a suit and without the tie, his standard look. It hasn’t stopped being impressive-nor has the way his thick hair falls over his forehead, or his smile, crooked and ironic.

“See?” he says. “I’ve learned my lesson. Call first to avoid run-ins with wayward family members and friends.”

I step around the counter. “Never too late for an old dog to learn new tricks, huh?”

He bends down to kiss me, his stubble chafing pleasantly against my chin. “I’m only seven years older than you, you know.”

“You had that information very handy.”

“Of course. I always need ammunition with you.” His hand skims my waist, long fingers trailing. “Lest I be accused of cradle-robbing, on top of my elitist and exploitative ways.”

His words are spoken lightly, but it brings a faint flush of embarrassment to my cheeks. He sees it-interest immediately flaring in his eyes. “What’s this? You only blush in the bedroom.”

That intensifies the blush, of course, and I turn away from him. “I’m just so harsh on you sometimes. I was wondering if I should apologize for that.”

Cole’s eyebrows shoot high. Then he laughs, the sound filling the bookstore completely. “Of course you are, and rightly so.”

I rub my neck. “I suppose. Just goes against my nature, you know?”

“Oh, I know.” He presses a kiss to the top of my head. “You’re a good girl. I figured that out early.”