Bad Bridesmaid (Billionaire's Club Book 11) Elise Faber (most read books of all time txt) 📖

tongue sweeping forward to tangle with hers, tasting the faint hint of coffee and chocolate and banana on her tongue—the woman was obsessed with those muffins, and he was going to do his damndest to keep up with her demand for them. But it wasn’t off-putting, even though he wasn’t a big fan of either chocolate or banana. Instead . . . it was coming home. It was Heidi.

It was perfect.

So perfect, in fact, that he’d dipped his hands under her shirt, fingertips brushing the silken skin of her abdomen on the appetizer to heading north when he felt a tap on his shoulder.

“You can’t do that here,” the female voice said.

He pulled back, blinked dazedly as he turned, trying to get his bearings. “I’m sorry, what?”

His vision cleared enough to remind him where he was, for him to see that it wasn’t just a woman standing behind them, but a guard with an official badge and uniform and intense-looking duty belt.

The guard lifted an eyebrow. “I’d suggest you either start your tour, or you end it.”

Heidi giggled—one pure burst of sound that had Brad fighting back a smile. “I’m sorry,” he said. “We’ll go get started.”

The guard nodded. “Carry on—” Her eyes narrowed. “Well, not carry on”—she waved a hand—“but please, proceed with touring the facility.”

Another tiny giggle that did nothing for his self-control, but he managed to stumble out another apology, to tug a chortling Heidi up the path and away from the guard, all without them getting thrown in the brig or finding themselves packed onto the next ferry back to the mainland.

“Your fault,” he muttered.

“Yours.” A beat. “You need to stop being so charming.”

“I can’t help it,” he said. “It’s a gift.”

“One the entire world gets to benefit from?” she asked archly.

“Exactly.” He stopped just past the turnstile after they’d paid for their tickets and glared down at her. “But as for the point at hand, I seem to remember you as the one doing the kissing.”

She sidled closer. “I seem to remember you kissing me back.”

Well, she had him there.

“Come on,” he said, instead of conceding the point. They picked up their audio guide—Heidi had wisely opted out of his tour—then put on their headphones as they walked into the first room.

Cavernous. Cold. Gloomy.

He hated it instantly, and the audio of the tour wasn’t much better, adding to the oppressiveness of the place, making him regret that he’d even thought to bring her here, especially on a date.

She slipped her headphones off, glancing around the room, eyes dimmed.

“Let’s go,” he said.

Her brows pulled together. “What? We just got here.”

“I hate it,” he muttered.

“Well, it certainly isn’t sunshine and rainbows,” she said, “but don’t you have something for work you should be doing?”

Asked so innocently that he nearly missed the teasing in her eyes.

“I’m not going to live that down, am I?”

“I’ll pretend to forget about it if you pretend to forget I lost that battle with the cabinet knob.”

“Done.”

“Pleasure doing business with you,” she said, sticking her hand out so he could shake it. “And I’m fine with going. I don’t like it here either.” A shiver. “Though part of me thinks we should push through and learn what we can.”

“I get that.” He nodded. “But I don’t think we’d be learning much.”

“Probably not. And . . . I guess it reminds me too much of what is wrong with the world.” She made a face. “I mean, we should know, because otherwise how are we going to help fix things? It’s just . . .”

He brushed his fingers over her cheek. “Probably not the best place for a date.”

“Yes.” Her lips tipped up at the corner. “That.”

“Then we’ll go do something else.”

She smiled up at him. “So, how do we get out of here?”

“Same way you do with all these tourist traps.” He brushed a finger down her nose. “Through the gift shop.”

Laughing, she leaned close, weaving her arm through his. “Then lead on, oh master of all things travel-related.”

He snagged her audio device, carrying both as they made their way through the cells, the cafeteria, the workrooms, the isolation room, weaving their path through the other patrons, pausing to take in a few signs with historical information, but for the most part, making their way to the exit as quickly as possible.

Which, unerringly, meant they ended up in the gift shop.

“Of course,” she said as they stepped into the bright room, filled with racks of T-shirts and magnets and shot glasses and postcards. One entire wall had candy. Another held books. Heidi stopped by a set of dish towels and held them up. “Just what I always wanted.”

“Come on, Trouble,” he said, tugging them from her hands and putting them down on the stack. “Let’s see if we can catch this ferry before it leaves.”

A mock pout. “You owe me more shopping time at a future date.”

He towed her toward the door, down the path toward the dock. “I’ll remind you of our earlier conversation, in which you expounded on all things that are terrible about shopping.”

“Yes, shopping in general,” she said. “But not about the only type of acceptable shopping.”

“What’s that?” he asked as they boarded the ferry.

“Books.” She smiled. “And there happens to be some amazing bookstores in San Francisco.”

“Well,” he said with tacit agreement as they both climbed the stairs. “Since my date idea was a bust, I think it makes sense to try yours. Should we hit up some of those bookstores instead?”

Her lips parted, surprise flitting in her eyes. “You’re serious?”

Thumb tracing that plump bottom lip, he couldn’t resist pulling her close, the scent of her shampoo tangling with that of the sea air. He couldn’t get over how she seemed to fit perfectly against him, as though her body had been made for his, as though she had been made for him. “I’m serious,” he said, unable to bite back a smile.

Joy lit up her face, and she did a little happy dance, one that had the