Page 9 of Kinks of a Billionaire
Willow laughed, leaning forward to press a warm kiss to her mother’s cheek.
“Mãe, I swear your subtlety improves with age.”
“Sim,” she agreed gravely, eyes sparkling as she looked between the two of us. I’d always found it amusing when Mrs. Auclair alluded to the nature of our friendship, but it meant so much more today. Because now, I feared I was too late. “I can’t help it.”
Before she could say anything else, Mr. Auclair tugged her arm gently, urging her past us and out the door. “Royce, you know where everything is. You two have a great night.”
“You as well, sir.”
The door shut behind them and I laughed, letting Willow pull me farther into the small kitchen.
“Help me finish cutting up the veggies for our salad,” she demanded, then handed me a knife. “Everything else is ready for us.”
“First let me give you your gift.”
I reached into my pocket and pulled out a small package. Her eyes lit up like a Christmas tree, and I couldn’t help but chuckle as she reached for it greedily. “What is it?”
“Open it.”
She ripped the package open, and the moment she spotted it, she gasped. “Oh my God.” Her eyes found me, looking at me likeIwas her God. “What? How?” she squealed.
“I’ve got my ways,” I drawled.
“But it’s been discontinued.” She twisted the bottlebetween her fingers as if she held a precious diamond. “This is… You…” Her eyes glowed with soft appreciation. “Thank you.”
I’d learned over the years that it was the little things that Willow appreciated. Give her jewelry, fancy cars… She remained unimpressed. But when it came to a cherished shade of nail polish namedWillow Green, she was under your spell. Not that I completely understood her obsession with nail polish.
She placed the bottle on the side table and turned to me with a wide smile. “Thank you so much. It’s my favorite color.”
“I know,” I said, sliding my leather jacket off and hooking it over the chair. “Let’s do this, then.”
I took the knife and began cutting the vegetables, following her orders on slicing and dicing.
“You know, you’re the only woman who orders me around,” I teased, bumping my shoulder against hers. “Why do I keep hanging out with you when you put me to work every time I see you?”
I thought back to two months ago, when she had me grating cheese and washing lettuce. Then how she made me sit through a torturous meal where I watched Stuart sweet-talk her into seeing him again.
“You must be a masochist,” she retorted jokingly, pulling me back to the present.
I laughed again. “Not exactly.”
She nodded, then shot me a sidelong look. “No stalker ladies to rescue you from lately?”
I scoffed.
“Hell no. I’m done with that.”
Willow only hummed.
I paused my knife work and turned to her. She looked gorgeous in her simple black leggings and a bloodred, loosely fitted T-shirt that came down to her mid-thighs. “Are you missing our routine?”
Willow was my go-to whenever I had to get rid of a particularly clingy girlfriend. It worked like a charm every time, and it helped that Willow could be like a little pit bull when she wanted to be.
She just looked at me, shaking her head. Something felt off.
“I haven’t known you to keep silent when something’s bothering you,” I reprimanded. “Don’t start now.”
She hummed again. “I’m just surprised women can resist all of your six feet five inches of muscle, your sparkling personality, and your charisma.”
