Billionaire and the Cowgirl - Page 15

He makes a couple of notes and swipes to the next page. “Interior-wise, it’s best if he’s on the first floor with a dedicated bathroom. These plans here say that there’s only one bathroom in the entire house, but they might have done some renovations. Are you sure we can’t get inside and take some photos and measurements? My plans would be a lot more accurate.”

“That’ll come. Next round.”

Novak squints at me, his precise architectural mind doing some math and finding that two plus two is not adding up. “Does Astor know about this?”

I grin and give my best non-answer. “Why wouldn’t she?”

Across the table, Novak’s assistant nudges him with her elbow. “He’s not doing anything Astor wouldn’t want, are you?” She beams at me, and I give her a high voltage smile right back.

Hand up, I say, “Absolutely would not do anything that Astor didn’t want. Swear on a stack of Holy Bibles.”

She turns to Novak. “See? He’s not doing anything Astor wouldn’t want.”

Novak rolls his eyes. “You can turn the charm down at least two notches, Cane. If you don’t, Reese will follow you home.”

“I will not. He belongs to Astor. I am not a man stealer.” Reese flips her hair and stalks into the back office.

“Do you buy flowers or chocolates to smooth this over?” I wonder.

“Neither. She’s been after me to buy a new copier for the office, and I’ve been holding off until I needed to apologize. I guess now’s the time.” He sighs and wheels his chair over to a computer monitor. “I was saving it for a bigger event, but the copier we have is a piece of shit.”

“I don’t know why she works with you.”

“I don’t know why Astor gives you the time of day,” he retorts.

“We all know why.” I point to my face.

Novak grunts in response, clicks a few things, and yells, “Copier is coming next Monday.”

Reese’s face reappears from the back room, her expression all smiles. “Did you say copier?”

“I did.” Novak lifts his chin in a smug manner. “Don’t forget this when Boss’s Day rolls around.”

“I won’t. This definitely deserves hot coffee instead of the intentionally lukewarm stuff I buy every morning.” She slams the door shut before Novak can respond.

I chuckle. “You two might as well get married. You act like an old married couple.”

Novak’s smugness is swept away by a scowl. “How would you know? You don’t know any married couples.”

“Hey, Calder just married, and Tucker is about to tie the knot. Marriage is thick on the Justice ground. I’m practically an expert. Expect my TED Talk on the topic after Astor and I get hitched.”

“You can’t even get me in her house to take photos and measurements. I highly doubt marriage is on the table.” He rolls back over and snatches the tablet away from me. “Come back when we can get inside, and we’ll discuss this in greater depth.”

I make a face but push to my feet. Novak’s not going to change his mind, the stubborn cuss. “Start drafting because I’ll be back in a week,” I tell him as I walk to the exit. I stop in the grocery store and pick up a six-pack of beer, some queso, chips, and a bouquet of flowers.

“What are you up to these days, Cane?” the cashier, Greta, wants to know.

“This and that.”

“If you were wondering but afraid to ask, I love queso, chips, and beer, and my night is entirely open.” She bats her eyelashes.

“I’ll remember that if things don’t work out with Astor.” I hand over my credit card.

She scrunches her nose. “Then never.”

“Yeah, sorry, but I’ll put in a good word for you with any bachelor that you’re interested in.”

“There’s only one Cane Justice, though,” Greta pouts.

“You wouldn’t want me. I’m a bear in the mornings.”

“I have a whole pot of honey.” She wiggles her eyebrows.

That draws out a choked laugh. “On that note, I’ll take my date night with Astor items and go.” I gather up my purchases.

“Chicken!” she yells.

I make a bawking sound as I leave. A smile lingers on my face as I drive out to Astor’s place. Everyone knows we belong together. We’ve cemented our union with great sex. The only thing left is to smooth things over with her dad. Queso, chips and beer won’t fix his legs, but maybe it will allow me into the house where I can explain the situation about the trainer, the horse, and physical therapist and get him back into the saddle.

I hum a bit as I turn down the lane into Astor’s property. I feel for the old man. If I wasn’t able to ride a horse anymore, I’d be a cranky asshole too. The mounting debt and the loss of his wife had to add to a feeling of desperation. And he’s proud, so taking money or getting aid from someone is not going to sit well with him. Having his son-in-law fix things, though, is entirely different.

Tags: Ella Goode Billionaire Romance
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