Page 71 of The Billionaire Experience

“It took some convincing for you to try on a rack of couture,” Brody said.

“Well, who can blame her?” Jaylyn put in. “You’re Richard Gere to her Pretty Woman.”

“Vivian,” Chloe reminded them of the name of Julia Roberts’s character in the movie. “Minus the hooker part since Reagan is a handywoman.”

“And his muse,” Reagan added, mostly to see their reactions.

“Stop it,” Dante said with a low laugh. “You shitting me?”

“It’s true,” Jaylyn said. “Brody believes in writer’s blo?—”

Both Reagan and Brody shushed Jaylyn before she could finish the phrase. He grinned at Reagan in appreciation before arguing, “Muses are entitled to couture gowns. Writing doesn’t happen without proper motivation.”

“And neither do sink repairs,” Reagan said.

It was a good ending note. Everyone was smiling, though the ladies had begun showing their first signs of fatigue. Chloe yawned, and Jaylyn’s shoulders drooped.

“I’m going to take my muse home.” Brody took the blanket off her lap. Instantly, she was cold. The temperature had dropped since they’d come outside, but at least it hadn’t rained.

“Back to your shared home,” Zander said. “Weren’t you advising me in January not to move in with Chloe?”

“I didn’t know Chloe,” Brody said with an apologetic glance her way. “I was going through something at the time.”

“With Alexis,” Jaylyn supplied, then to Reagan added, “Another actress.”

Reagan bit her lip to keep from laughing. She was starting to pick up on the humorous way they ribbed each other. As an only child, she hadn’t experienced brothers or sisters, so there’d been no opportunity to emulate or idolize them. The big, distant family that came together to jab at each other and then hug it out was new territory for her.

After hugs and goodbyes, she and Brody made their way out to the valet where the car was waiting. Thank God. She didn’t know how much longer she could remain upright in these shoes.

He opened the door for her and then rounded the car to settle into the driver’s seat. They went through back-to-back green stoplights in silence before he said, “Am I making you feel like Pretty Woman?”

She smiled at the windshield. “Yeah, I guess you are. If you like, I can wear nothing but one of your ties tonight. We can recreate that scene.”

He snapped his head around to peg her with a heated glance. Then he floored the gas pedal, sending her back into the seat.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Reagan pulled her lips from Brody’s when he lost the wrestling match with the front door. She slid her hand over his and gave the key a jiggle. “The lock’s always been sticky,” she breathed.

“Lucky for me I know just the woman to fix it.” His mustached smile was crooked as he tossed the keys onto the coffee table. He kicked the door shut with his foot.

Her mouth on his again, she found herself fighting a smile. She’d never been in this position before—and she wasn’t talking about him pressing every inch of his hard body against hers. She’d never been surrounded by such opulence and wealth in her life.

It struck her that she hadn’t been particularly uncomfortable at a party filled to the brim with billionaires. Yes, she was wearing an insanely expensive dress, and yes, at first blush, the Cranes were an intimidating lot, but as the evening drew on, she’d been more preoccupied with the blister developing on her pinky toe than impressing them.

That had mostly to do with Brody, who refused to see her as less than. She considered her bias toward the newer, wealthier residents in the neighborhood and wondered if it was she who’d been classist. Just because they had money didn’t mean they were bad people.

“Lost you for a sec,” he murmured against her lips. His hand slipped beneath her skirt where his fingertips tickled her thigh. “Am I boring you?”

“No.” Far from it. She was slick with need and ready to go. “I was thinking of tonight, that’s all.”

His curt nod accompanied a frown. “Everyone blurting out my ex-girlfriends’ names. It was a long time ago, and they weren’t all girlfriends. Some were only a date or two.”

She stroked the rough patch of facial hair on his cheek that perfectly complemented his mustache. “I was thinking about how oddly comfortable I was around your family, not about your sordid dating past. But now that you bring it up…”

He hung his head. She ducked to kiss his lips and then moved that kiss to his ear where she whispered, “I’m not jealous. I promise.”

“I am. Of your clueless ex mostly. If it wasn’t for him, you’d live here.”

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