Page 14 of Her Billionaire Bargain (Kensington Square)

It had taken me a couple of net searches to realize her ex was old friends with my father—which was far from a recommendation of his character.

“Meaning I know your ex-husband is a fucking tool. He doesn’t deserve a cute kid like Berry.” I swallowed hard. “Definitely never deserved a wife like you.”

She jerked to her feet and poor Bob released a pitiful whine as he slumped to the floor. I didn’t blame him.

Wrong move yet again. I knew better than to lead with honesty. It never ended well.

I sat back on my haunches, wincing a little as my cock deflated painfully fast. At least it made it easier to fumble my phone out of my pocket as I shifted Bob’s head into my lap. He moaned again, slightly less pitifully this time.

“I’m calling my vet,” I announced.

No response and a quick glance over my shoulder showed she was gone.

Okay then. Not my priority right now.

I hit the speed dial and relaxed a fraction when my buddy Clint answered. “Thank God you’re there. I need a house call. Cost is no object,” I reminded him when he started to remind me of his on-call schedule. “Bob got into cake. I need help.”

A moment later, the front door slammed shut.

I shifted until I could lean back against the stove, thereby positioning my ass in the plate of leftover cake.

Fabulous. Frosted buns, anyone?

FOUR

I satin my car for a full five minutes, trying to breathe through the anxiety at the mere mention of my ex-husband.

I didn’t know what the hell my problem was. I hadn’t freaked at this near stranger’s obvious erection in my direction. Granted, it wasn’t as if this guy was hard to look at. He was sexy with muscled shoulders that strained the seams of his faded T-shirt and dark tattoos that snaked out from under his short sleeves. He was also kind of funny, although not strictly on purpose.

His green eyes had a kind of puppy dog quality that made him endearing—despite my clear lack of anything approaching warmth for him.

In fact, I was the exact opposite. I’d been primed to hate him.

Instead, he’d been so cute with his clear concern over his dog and offering to pay any amount for his vet to come fix him. And he’d addressed the elephant cock in the room by promising not to make things weird on the job.

Before he made things weirdest of all by mentioning my fucking ex.

I didn’t know where I was going. Or what I intended to do. Leaving like I had wasn’t exactly professional, but then neither was Dex’s erection. But I supposed he couldn’t help his biological reaction, and it wasn’t as if he’d made any untoward moves on me. I didn’t know why he’d had that reaction but in the right light, his obvious attraction to me might even seem…flattering.

If not for the ex bit.

Recon. And how exactly did he know my ex? Was it just an acquaintances type deal? Or had he made the statements he had just to show his support for me without knowing him at all? Though that didn’t make sense either. I had a feeling he at least knew of the esteemed judge and not just because he’d met him in court.

I had to ask him. I couldn’t just run out of there with my metaphorical tail between my legs. I wasn’t afraid of his cock. He’d been a perfect gentleman. And I really wanted his job. I needed the money, yes. But his house definitely could use some help. My brand of help. I already had ideas though he hadn’t given me a clue what he wanted. I figured we could discuss my thoughts and he’d let me know if he was on board or not.

Could he be an actual customer who trusted me to create a vision from the bottom up? I should show him my look book of homes and businesses I’d decorated for previous clients.

I slapped myself in the forehead. That I’d left at home on my kitchen table.

Terrific, Shelby. You’re definitely in the place to take on the biggest job of your life.

If I was even still in the running for it.

I blinked as a hulking forest-green SUV screeched as it took a hard left into Dex’s driveway. A tall dark-haired man in a fisherman’s sweater climbed down from the driver’s seat with what looked like an old-fashioned doctor’s satchel in one hand. He hurried up the short flight of stairs and rushed inside the stately home without knocking.

Oh, God, Bob. How had I forgotten? I’d been consumed with my own issues.

I started to open my door then stopped. I still didn’t have my look book. I absolutely did not want to address the awkwardness of my leaving in front of a stranger—his vet, no less. Maybe we could just table that until…forever.

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