Page 48 of The Billionaire's Beauty

“It’s well earned,” says Ella, who never misses a chance to rake someone over the coals if she can help it. “I didn’t even know you could smile.”

“Neither did I,” he says with a sidelong glance at me, dimples deepening.

“I’ve decided I don’t hate you,” Ella says with a nod. “You may have a petit four.”

“Thanks,” he says, looking relieved. “I take that as a ringing endorsement. By the way, you know who else is doing a lot of smiling these days?”

“I can’t imagine,” Ella says lightly as she tucks her hair behind her ear, but she’s no Diane Keaton and she can’t quite lock down her simper.

“My brother,” he says, clearly relishing this quick turning of the tables. “My brother Ryker. In case there’s any confusion.”

“My goodness, would you look at the time,” she says with an exaggerated look at her watch-free wrist. “Why didn’t you tell me it was so late, Bellamy? Now I’m going to have to dash off without finishing this important conversation.”

We all laugh.

Ella turns to me. “More to him, eh?” she asks.

“More to him,” I say, grateful that she’s seeing this other side of him and hopefully doesn’t think I’m completely insane.

“More to who?” he asks. I can feel his keen interest sharpening.

“No one you know,” Ella and I say together.

There’s another round of laughter, then Ella edges toward the door.

“I really should go. I’ve got another batch of petit fours in the oven. Great seeing you, Griffin.”

“Stick around. I was just about to take Bellamy to dinner. Why don’t you come?”

Ella looks startled and touched by this suggestion. As I am.

“Thanks. Another time,” she tells him. “You kids have fun.”

“I’ll text you later,” I tell her as she lets herself out.

“That was very nice of you,” I tell him when the door shuts behind her.

“I’m a very nice guy. Ask anyone. Stop laughing. Is it my imagination, or is some crazy dog barking in your apartment?”

“That is definitely not your imagination,” I say glumly. “That’s Jeremy. Who embarrasses me every chance he gets.”

“Well, let him out. Let’s meet him.”

“Foolish words,” I mutter.

“Let’s go. I love dogs.”

“You say that now…”

I repeat the drill, opening the bedroom door for Jeremy. Jeremy races out, barking his fool head off.

Until Griffin takes a step in his direction and stops him cold, mid-bark.

“Relax, Jeremy,” he says in a soothing but commanding voice that reveals he has some significant Dog Whisperer blood running through his veins. “Stop all the commotion.”

I watch in utter disbelief as Jeremy whines and backs up a few steps.

Griffin squats and snaps his fingers. “Get over here.”

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