Page 92 of Grumpy Billionaire Bad Boy

I reach out, defying every ounce of self-control within me, and cup her cheek with my hand. I lean in close, my mouth just against her ear, and mutter, "If you want to go on a date so badly, let it be with me."

Chapter 23

London

I'm so fucking mad at Archer right now but he's making it hard as hell to stay that way when he's this close to me.

I know damn well that he was stalking me, that he went against my one fucking wish of giving me some space. I'm not sure how he does it, whether it's something on my phone or he put a tracker on me, or maybe he found cameras inside the building, but he somehow knew that Austin was being a pretentious dick and that he ordered steak.

Yeah, he must have a bug on me somewhere.

Part of me wants to slap him in the face for disrespecting me, but then the other half wants to hug him for being here when I needed him. I didn't expect to actually call him, and yet the second shit started going further than I was comfortable, my hand was reaching for my phone and dialing his number. I wasn't even fully aware it was happening until his voice came through the speakers and then he appeared out of thin air.

Austin was a terrible date. I was only doing it as a favor to Grace and to get a chance to spend some more time with her. Sure, the idea of being wined and dined was nice, I just don't like blind dates. I thought since it was one of Leo's friends, thathe would keep decent company, and boy was I wrong. I can't quite get a good read on Leo either. One minute he's a perfect gentleman, and the next there'ssomethingoff about him, like he's scanning everyone around him, looking for a better option, or maybe just so they pay attention to him. He's conceited, that's for damn sure. And I mean, I get it, Leo is so gorgeous he could have been plucked straight out of a GQ magazine. But it's a hair too much, like he's trying too hard to be something that he's not.

I guess that might have to do with growing up in the foster system, and never having anything of your own. Perhaps I shouldn't fault him for something he might not have much control over. Still, there's this little thing called therapy he could try out to get past that big ego of his.

As long as Grace is having a good time, that's all that matters.

I return to my seat, the memory of Archer's voice whispering in my ear lingering in my mind. His breath on my neck is so fresh I can almost still feel him. I hate that I had only been gone less than an hour, and I was sort of missing him already. I shouldn't, especially now that I figured out I'm the reason Archer is cold and shut off. What kind of person would I be if I pursued something with him after finding out his girlfriend was dead because of me? And it's not as if I could tell him. I don't want to reopen a wound that's clearly still bleeding.

Archer slides into the seat next to me, the one Austin was sitting in only a little bit ago. "I'm not exactly dressed for the occasion," he says.

"You look great," I tell him truthfully. Archer always looks great, no matter what. Even when he's at home, rocking sweatpants and a fitted tee. And now, with him in black jeans and a black button-up rolled onto his forearms, he's especially sexy. Something about the way he barged in here and took control of the situation has mealmostforgetting that I'm mad at him, that I'm supposed to be keeping him at arm's length.

I take an unhealthy swig of the cocktail the waiter brings me, ignoring a glare from Archer.

"So," Grace interjects, a lovely break from the awkwardness filling the space. "Tell me how this baking gig is going." She reaches for her glass, sipping a bit of the sparkling liquid and returning it to the table, one pinkie out the entire way.

"It's good," I respond. "Mostly learning the ropes at this point, nothing too crazy. What's been keeping you busy?"

Grace sighs. "Planning this big charity event. We're about two months out and it's a lot of back and forth with vendors, making sure everything is on order and doesn't fall through. We've sent out invites but it's been slower than I'd imagined with donations."

"Is this the Children's Gala?" Leo chimes in, his arm over the back of his chair, the other hand fidgeting with his whiskey glass.

"Yeah." Grace turns toward him. "You familiar?"

"I'll buy a table," he tells her.

"A table?"

"Did I stutter?"

"A table is two hundred thousand."

Leo shrugs. "Do you want me to buy two of them?"

Her eyes narrow like she's not quite sure if he's joking.

"I'll buy one too," Archer adds, his tone unserious. Both of them act as if they're purchasing a ten-dollar sandwich at the local deli.

Grace breaks out into a smile. "Okay then."

I lean closer to Archer. "Are you being serious?"

"Yeah, why?" He reaches for a piece of bread in the basket on the table, ripping a piece off and popping it into his mouth.

I glance at Grace and throw my hands up. "I can't afford a table, otherwise I'd get one, too."

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