Page 192 of The Billionaires

Bruce hands me the dog’s harness, and I suit him up, then reach for my punky headgear.

“You won’t need that,” Bruce says.

“It’s dark out,” I say. “Won’t I be at risk for an owl attack?”

Bruce takes out one of his swords from behind his back. “Let the feathery fuckers try. I’ll slice them in two.”

I attach the leash to Colossus’s harness. “Is that your steel or silver blade?”

He looks at it more closely. “Silver. I should probably handle an owl with steel.”

“Yeah. Silver is for monsters, and I don’t think owls qualify.”

“Speaking of The Witcher,” Bruce says as we step into the cool night air. “My mother told me something interesting.”

“She did?” Didn’t she just learn about the series from me today?

“There’s a TV show on Netflix based on The Witcher.”

Oh. “You didn’t already know that?”

He shakes his head.

Butterflies flutter in my stomach as I ask, “Did you want to watch it?”

“With you,” he says.

The fluttering becomes full-on flapping, and the butterflies grow into predatory owls. “I’d like that.”

“Not that it could be as good as the books,” Bruce says.

“Or the third game,” I add.

“If we hate it, at least we’ll hate it together.”

“Yeah,” I say. “The key is to chill as we watch.”

And… the drunken bravery keeps going, needlessly in this case, as he’s already agreed to accept me as a gift.

He grins. “As in, Netflix and chill?”

I grin back, even as my face turns hot. “You get me.”

His expression turns serious. I think he must realize how romantic this moment is. We’ve got gorgeous surroundings around us, the stars and the moon in the clear sky above, and last but not least, we’re dressed in sexy outfits that complement each other.

The same thoughts must be going through his head because he pulls me to him and our lips lock.

The awe-inspiring world around us completely disappears, and all that’s left are Bruce’s lips, his clever tongue, his strong arms on my ass, the whine?—

Wait. Whine?

I grudgingly pull away and see the source of the whine. It’s Colossus. He’s standing on his hind legs and tapping Bruce with his front paws—as if begging to be picked up.

“Huh,” I say. “Roach used to do something like this. He’d get between me and anyone I tried kissing.”

“He was a smart dog then,” Bruce says. “I’m the only person you should be kissing.”

Wow. “I didn’t know you then.”

---