Page 6 of Ezra the Billionaire

“Who the hell are you?” His eyes dart behind me where I’m sure Gramps and Griffen have my back.

“Ezra Caldwell.” Spend any time in Suitor’s Crossing and you’ll hear about the Caldwells and Hearthstone Lodge. I don’t usually name drop, but there’s no denying the satisfaction that hums in my veins the moment he recognizes who I am. “You owe this woman an apology.”

He scoffs and tosses a container of ice cream in his cart with a clang. “For what? Telling the truth?”

“For being a misogynistic jerk who thinks it's okay to insult a woman in the middle of a goddamned grocery store.” My temper rises, though I keep my tone at a respectable volume.

Glancing back at my family, I catch their surprised expressions.

Okay, mostly respectable.

“Ezra…” Lauren covers my hand on her stomach with her own. “I can handle this. I don't want a scene.”

As if realizing he's got the makings of a solid payday in front of him, the man whips out his phone and snaps a picture before smirking. “Maybe Hunter had another reason to leave your fat ass. Maybe you were screwing around on him.”

For the first time in my life, I black out.

That's the only reasonable explanation for why the gloating bastard is knocked out cold on the scuffed tile, and my fist hurts like a motherfucker.

“Holy shit.” Griffen pounds my back with pride while Gramps walks over to nudge the man on the ground with the toe of his boot.

“One punch,” Gramps drawls. “Didn't know you had it in you, kid. You were always thefight with your words rather than fiststype. But he definitely deserved what he got.”

“I can't believe… Y-you…” Lauren stutters in shock as I bend to grab the man's phone and quickly delete the photo he took. Even going so far as to permanently delete it from his trash. He won't receive a dime from the tabloids now.

“Breathe,” I murmur, ushering her away from the scene of the crime, Gramps and Griffen hot on my heels.

I feel sorry for whoever finds the guy lying prone next to the Ben & Jerry's, but I'm not sticking around for when he wakes up. It's bad enough I punched him in the first place.

What the hell came over me?

“Lauren, this is my brother Griffen and our grandpa William.” Both men wave in greeting.

“It’s nice to meet you, although I’m sorry about the trouble.”

“Don’t worry about it. He had it coming for speaking to you that way.” Griffen offers a modest grin and shrugs his big shoulders. All of the Caldwell men are large, but Griffen approaches giant-sized with his huge mitts and burly musculature. The irony is he’s the most soft spoken of all of us. “Besides, it was worth seeing Ezra lose his cool.”

My first instinct is to defend myself. I never lose my cool. But fuck if evidence to the contrary isn’t still knocked out in aisle six.

“We’re almost done here. Why don’t you join us for dinner? I guarantee it’ll brighten your evening,” Gramps says.

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

“Nonsense. Ezra, be a gentleman and take the young lady’s basket.” Gramps offloads Lauren’s basket into my quickly raised hand before ushering her toward the checkout lanes at the front of the store.

“Family dinner is going to be fun.” Griffen hangs back with me as we slowly follow behind the pair. “Kennedy will love this.”

“Speaking of our sister, you never told me about this scheme of hers.” Maybe learning about Kennedy’s machinations will distract me from staring at the sway of Lauren’s hips and the bounce of her round ass.

Yeah, right.

“I thought it was obvious. She thinks you and Lauren should get together.”

“Excuse me? I hardly know the woman.” Except for the fact that she smells good enough to eat and those jeans do nothing to dispel an image of my palms cupping the peachy globes tempting me to take a bite.

“Yet you punched a man for insulting her. KO’ed with one shot. Gramps was right when he said it’s not like you. You’re the calm twin, while Beckett is the troublemaker.”

I run a hand through my hair, disrupting the perfectly styled part I created this morning. “I barely remember doing it, though my knuckles ache like a bitch. Violence never pays,” I mutter, disgruntled.

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