“I know,” Cash agrees, forgetting his sense of sibling solidarity. “I’m disappointed in my little brother. Hopefully, he catches on quick before he fucks this up.”
“Hello, you’re talking about me like I’m not standing right here.” These three are like goddamn gossiping teenagers. “Don’t you three have something better to do with your time?” Fuck. You’d think three billionaires would be too busy to bother me.
“Nothing is more important than my sister,” Playboy answers for all three of them. “And you, my man, suck at wooing. We’re trying to help you before the damage is insurmountable.”
“First off…” I slam my hand down on the table, ready to blast the fucker, when my little rebel shocks the hell out of me by wrapping her hand around my waist.
“Zane doesn’t suck at wooing.” My heart melts when Autumn takes up for me and points at her brother. “And I don’t need you to watch out for me.” My little rebel’s adorable huff wraps around my heart and warms my soul. “And another thing, your grading system sucks. He was easily earning sevens and eights.”
“Motherfucking A.” Playboy glances back and forth between the two of us. “My work here is done.”
What the hell? My brain can’t keep up with shifting tides. “Huh?” I need a playbook or instruction manual to handle this shit.
The three assholes stand to leave, and Playboy leans close to whisper to me. “She’s arguing with me to protect you.” This asshole is taking credit for the headway I’m making with Autumn. “You can thank me later. A bottle of The Red Collection 50 Year Old Scotch should be sufficient.”
“Yeah, right.” Like I’d ever give him an eighty-thousand dollar bottle of whiskey for helping me. “Hold your breath until I get it to you.”
After they disappear from sight, I turn to Autumn. “Well, that was fun.”
“As fun as a root canal,” she grumbles and slides back to the center of the booth. This time, she doesn’t try to get too far away. “Okay. We need to discuss a few things.”
I couldn’t agree more. “What would you like to discuss, little rebel?”
“First,” she pokes that damn pointy finger into my chest, “stop calling me little rebel.”
“Not going to happen, but thank you for asking.” I smile down at Autumn, unable to risk needling her just a little. “What else?”
“Funny.” She throws her hands up into the air. “Are we going to discuss my case?”
“I already told you.” I have to touch her, so I wrap my hand around hers before running my thumb across her soft knuckles. “We’ll meet in my office tomorrow morning to discuss everything.”
“But I want to know now. I’m so worried about it.” Her bottom lip trembles, turning my insides to goo.
“We’ll discuss everything tomorrow, but I want you to know that I’ve dug up a ton of very damaging information on Jimmy Gatlin. You don’t have to worry about him suing you. When I’m done with that fucker, he’ll be lucky if he isn’t going to federal prison.”
I watch relief flit through her expressive brown eyes and decide to push my luck as an idea pops into my mind. “After we get that business out of the way, I’m going to take you to Houston for the weekend so we can get to know each other without the three scrooges or their minions interrupting us.”
“Now, wait a minute.” There’s that adorable sputter she does that melts my heart while hardening my cock.
“No. I’m not waiting to make you mine.” I finally managed to find a way to keep her quiet.
CHAPTERFIVE
AUTUMN
"Can I get a caramel macchiato, please?" I ask the barista at The Golden Mug, my favorite little coffee shop in downtown Silver Spoon Falls. Unlike in California, they aren't on every corner here. There are only two in town, and this one has the best scones. "I also need a regular black coffee and half a dozen blueberry scones."
"You're getting coffee for your brother again?" Aspen grins at me, flashing her dimples.
"Nope. He still has to get his own," I say, smirking at her, which makes her laugh quietly. I brought him coffee my first week at work, and then I found out he was coming by here every morning anyway to get scones. The big jerk didn't even bring me one! Not one all week. Now, he has to get his own coffee.
"Good for you." Aspen gives me a high five. "Older brothers are lame anyway."
"So lame," I whisper, thinking about last night. I cannot believe he showed up at the restaurant with Cash and Finn to score Zane like our dinner was an Olympic sport. They're all insane.
So is Zane, for that matter. He basically told me that I'm going to Houston with him this weekend, and I didn't say no. I fully intended to tell him absolutely not, but the words wouldn't come.
I'm not nearly as annoyed as I should be. He's so high-handed and bossy! But I don't hate it. What the heck is that about?