Bad Boy Billionaire Romance Boxset 4 Books

by Tara Brent

  She seemed pleased. “And your order, sir?”

  “Uh, medium number one, extra sauce on the Big Mac. And can I have a fresh batch of fries? I don’t mind waiting.”

  She grinned. “No problem. My shift ends in about an hour. Take your time eating.”

  He smiled warmly, turned around, and promptly collapsed.

  ***

  Easton awoke in the hospital. He glanced side to side and saw Hayden and Camila sitting in chairs. His brother was dozing, and Camila was on her phone, looking very pleased with herself.

  Easton groaned, and she looked up at him. “Welcome back to the land of the living! Thanks to you, I’ve gone viral.” She seemed very pleased with herself.

  “What—ow!” Everything hurt.

  “Four stitches on the side of your face, two on the back of your head, a broken rib, bruises all over, and a concussion. Couple that with the alcohol and how little sleep you apparently get, and you collapsed right in front of me.” She smirked. “Sorry I didn’t get to drive you home. I would have loved to see your sex dungeon.” She stood up. “It’s late. Well, early by now. You’re awake, so time for me to have some sleep.”

  “I never got to compensate you,” said Easton.

  “Oh, I didn’t do it for the money,” she replied. “Ha! Kidding. Your brother already took care of everything.”

  “Of course he did,” snorted Easton, grimacing.

  “One last thing before I go,” she said. She went to his bedside and held her phone at arm’s length. “Smile!” She took a selfie of the two of them. Satisfied and perky, she walked off. Before she left, she said, “Just one more thing, If I may ask. Who is Alex?”

  Easton stiffened. “What about Alex?”

  She shrugged. “You were murmuring incoherently but the only word I could make out was ‘Alex.’ Lady-friend? Former boy-toy?”

  “Neither,” muttered Easton. “Met her once and it didn’t go so hot.”

  “Glad to know you’re mortal after all, Easton Cooper,” she said. “So just do what normal people do and send flowers. Roses for sure. But not a dozen, that’s overkill. Half a dozen. And not all red, that’s very overkill. Adios!” She departed.

  Easton pondered a moment. “Hey, bro, Hayden, wake up!”

  Hayden awoke with a start. “Huh? Oh! Hey, heh, you’re mad ugly right now.”

  “Yeah, thanks. My phone was stolen, as I’m sure you know. Can I borrow yours?”

  Hayden took out his phone. “If I find more trans-midget tentacle porn on my browser history, I’m going to be very disappointed.”

  “Yeah yeah, unlock it and toss it to me.”

  Hayden obliged. “Yeah, you do you, I’m going back to sleep. Just be sure not to make a mess or rip your stitches.” He closed his eyes.

  Easton opened Safari on his brother’s phone and began to type.

  ***

  Alex sat at her computer in her office. She was stressing a bit about planning her company’s charity gala on top of her already massive pile of work when her secretary buzzed her. “Yes, Brandon?” she asked.

  “Delivery for you,” he replied.

  “If it’s anthrax you’re fired,” she said.

  “Nothing like that. Should I bring it in?”

  “Sure thing,” she said, wondering what it could be. “Brandon entered her office with a crystal vase and half a dozen roses, each a different color—red, pink, orange, purple, white, and yellow. She raised her eyebrows. “Well, isn’t this a surprise!” She took them and smelled them. “Was there a card?”

  “Yes. Here, sorry, it fell off.” Brandon handed it to her.

  She took it and read the little note:

  Sorry for being an asshole. Try not to kill these.

  There was no signature. She smirked. Well-played, Mr. Cooper. Well-played.

  Chapter 5

  “Imagine Pops seeing us now,” said Hayden. “His two boys, gingerly applying makeup before attending a gala.”

  “Yeah yeah, we’re quite the pair right now,” said Easton, dabbing foundation over his black eye. “Wish I could do more to hide the cut,” he said.

  “It’s many,” said Hayden. “You have a scar from a street-tough.”

  “‘Street tough’? Who even are you?”

  “Well, whatever. At least your bruise is temporary. I’m rocking blush so I don’t look like a skele-ghost.”

  Easton winced. “Sorry, man.”

  “It’s cool,” said Hayden. “Just how things go. How am I rocking the cue ball?”

  “You’re a certified Walter White,” replied Easton.

  “What, do I look like a meth head?”

  “What? No! Heisenberg never took it, he just cooked it. I meant you look bald and badass. You are the one who knocks!”

  “Wasn’t he bald because he had cancer?” asked Hayden suspiciously.

  “…Um…”

  Hayden laughed. “Buddy, don’t sweat it.” He straightened his tie. “Emaciated though I may be, I still rock a tux pretty well. Better than your bruised self, anyway.”

  Easton laughed. “Let’s go, pal.”

  “Wait, no plus one?” asked Hayden. “Aren’t you usually, you know, plus two or three?”

  “Not tonight. You’re my plus one.” He smiled.

  Hayden narrowed his eyes. “Or, you’re deliberately not taking a plus one so that you can find one there?”

  Easton grimaced. “Hey, both can be true, right?”

  “Maybe. Or maybe, you know the plus one you want, and know she is not only going to be there but is hosting the event.”

  “Okay! Yes! All of these things are true! But last I checked, she wasn’t very fond of me, so I’m probably wasting my time anyway!”

  “You don’t take no for an answer. Or you never have, anyway.”

  “Of course I have. People who don’t take no for an answer are usually rapists.”

  “Did you just paraphrase that line from Jessica Jones?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Cool. Let’s go.”

  Hayden had one hand on his cane and took his brother’s arm as they strolled out the limo that awaited them.

  ***

  Easton and Hayden sat awkwardly at their tables, both bored clean outside their minds, both stone-cold-sober on account of doctors’ orders due to their respective meds. Hayden kept talking through the speeches so as to not fall asleep; even before falling ill, he had a tendency to sleep through boring speeches.

  “Easton,” he whispered. “Stop paying for chemo. There’s no way I’ll survive to the end of this dinner, let alone cancer.”

  “Shh!” snapped Easton. “You’re going to be fine. And be nice.”

  “You’re never nice! Except to me, and even then only sometimes.” He took a sip of water and coughed into his napkin. Easton rubbed his brother’s back. “I’m fine. Anyway, how much have you given to this charity?”

  “My standard million, plus three dollars for every dollar I’ve spent on your treatment, plus an additional million I put on top just because.”

  “So, in that sentence, the phrase ‘just because’ means ‘because I’m trying to suck up to Alex MacTaggart,’ right?”

  “I dunno. Maybe?” grunted Easton.

  “And you’re doing this because you want her company or because you want her booty? Oh! Right, both, I knew that.”

  Easton rolled his eyes. “I’m going to get a drink.”

  Hayden raised his eyebrows. “But the doctor said—”

  “Yeah, I know, I’m getting a club soda with a lemon twist and I’m going to pretend it’s a gin and tonic and pray for the placebo effect to take hold.” Easton brushed off the front of his pants and walked off.

  The line to the bar was long. Easton was largely unaccustomed to waiting for anything, ever, let alone non-alcoholic beverages, so he shifted from one foot to the other, fidgeting, and eventually pulled out his phone. “Nope,” he said to himself. “Can’t do this.” He marched off to the bathroom.

 
And, of course, he was faced with yet another massive line. “This is not my night,” he muttered. He got the attention of someone working there. “Excuse me? Are there any other bathrooms?”

  “Yes sir,” said the young man. “But it’s for members only.”

  “And you can’t make an exception?”

  “No. People pay for that privilege, and I’m not going to get reprimanded because you’re impatient.”

  “How do I become a member?” asked Easton.

  The guy snorted. “Well, the starting fee for one year is seventy grand. Will that be cash or check?” He smirked.

  “Check,” said Easton.

  The young man looked flustered. “Sorry, what?”

  “Yeah, that sounds worth it. I’ll sign up for this dumb place. Please turn around.”

  “Uh, why?”

  “Just…” Easton, check in hand, spun the gentleman around, and used the guy’s back as a writing surface. When he finished, “Here.” He stuck it in the guy’s breast pocket. “Now: Où se trouvent les toilettes?”

  “Sorry, what?”

  Easton rolled his eyes. “Sorry, I’ll translate into moron: point me to the potty… Thank you!” Easton marched away, leaving the perplexed server in his wake.

  After doing what needed to be done in the bathroom, Easton made his way to the sink. He stared at his reflection. “What the hell am I doing with my life?” he whispered to himself, splashing cold water on his face. After drying himself off, he caught his reflection and froze. The foundation that hid his bruise and kinda-sorta hid his stitches was smeared away, leaving just enough of a trace to make it abundantly clear that he had tried to hide it previously. “Great. Just perfect.” He felt the tantrum rise but pushed it back down, regained his composure, and stormed out of the bathroom. Whatever, nobody here is going to judge me, and even if they do, screw them! I’m Easton Cooper! There’s not a single person here that I could run into and feel insecure around.

  And that was when he bumped into Alex MacTaggart. And this was no figurative bump; rather, the bump was quite literal, and specifically, he bumped into the glass of merlot she was carrying, which proceeded to spill down the front of her yellow dress. Her agitated response was essentially one long word of surprised annoyance:

  “WhatTheHellWatchWhereYou’reGoingYouAssholeHowCouldYou OH MY GOD IT’S YOU!!”

  Easton was beside himself. Clearing throat awkwardly, he simply said, “Hello, Ms. MacTaggart. I apologize, I wasn’t paying attention.”

  She stared daggers at him, nostrils flared, but then she settled. “It’s fine. But you’re buying me a new dress. And this is not the best first impression.”

  “I realize that,” he replied, very sheepishly. “Here, let me help.” He took the wine glass from her and promptly dumped it over the front of his shirt.

  “What are you doing?” she cried in alarm.

  “Improvising,” he said. “A black-eyed, wine-stained Easton Cooper will hopefully draw more negative attention than your stain. Mine looks like I’m a drunk asshole who spilled on himself, which is something I’m totally known for already. Yours looks like, well, a sunset!”

  She blinked. “A sunset?”

  “I dunno, the red and yellow…?

  “Ah. Right. Well, you’re still buying me a new dress.” She sighed. “Ugh, I don’t even have to go to the bathroom, I just didn’t feel like being in there anymore. I keep a low profile, you know? This isn’t me. Also, how are you back here? It’s for members only, and you sure as hell are not a member.”

  “I wasn’t,” he said carefully.

  She stared at him for a few seconds. “Did… you become a member just to empty your member?”

  “Good word-play. And, well, yes, that is exactly what happened.”

  She stared for another second, shook her head, then laughed. “Oh man… you really are something else, Cooper.”

  “Call me Easton.”

  “Oh, sorry, I’ll be sure to remember to call you Mr. Cooper,” she said succinctly. “I’m still not happy with you. Even if you did make me laugh.” She sighed. “I don’t want to go back in there.”

  “Then don’t,” he said. “Let’s get out of here. Find a place to grab a late-night-bite.”

  “What part of ‘I’m still not happy with you’ was confusing? I am not leaving my own charity gala to go on a date with you. We’re doing business together, and you are so not my type.”

  Easton flinched but continued. “No date! Just an escape. Besides, we’ll have a chaperone. I bought a plus-one.”

  “You want to take me on a date with your date?” Alex was incredulous now.

  “Would you relax? All shall be revealed. Trust me.”

  She shook her head. “I know I am going to regret this.”

  “Probably,” he said. “But a great philosopher once said ‘take chances, make mistakes, and get messy!’”

  Alex covered her face and groaned. “I’m about to leave to get a drink with a prick who quotes Ms. Frizzle.”

  “Don’t you knock The Magic School Bus. I learned about white blood cells from that.” He held out his arm. “Shall we?”

  Shaking her head, Alex took his arm.

  ***

  “Well Easton,” said Alex, “I think I prefer your ‘plus one’ to you.”

  “You and everyone else,” mumbled Hayden, his mouth full of pizza. The three of them had departed and went to a bar and pizzeria.

  “Are you two finished? Jesus,” said Easton “A guy does a nice thing and gets trampled on!”

  “What, buying us pizza makes you Gandhi now?” retorts Alex.

  “Fun fact: Gandhi was actually a bit of a dick,” said Hayden.

  “Shush, you’re the good one, don’t ruin it,” laughed Alex.

  Hayden shrugged. “Just telling it like it is!”

  “As am I,” she said. “Your brother really is a knucklehead, isn’t he?”

  Easton leaned toward his brother and loudly whispered, “She just called me a knucklehead. I don’t even know how to respond to that.”

  Hayden replied with his own stage-whisper: “I have no idea, maybe call her a poopooface, that’ll teach her!”

  “Are you going to start pulling my pigtails at recess too?” said an exasperated Alex. “My god, how you two managed to fake your ways into adulthood, I am sure I do not know.”

  “First of all, I never pull anybody’s hair unless they unequivocally demand it first,” said Easton, narcissism oozing from his grin.

  “No one wants to hear about that, Easton,” murmured Hayden through gritted teeth while Alex raised her eyebrows.

  “And secondly,” Easton continued, unperturbed, “the only reason the two of us grew up was to spite our father.”

  “I hear he was a piece of work,” said Alex, softening slightly.

  “More like a piece of shit,” piped in Hayden, “but definitely a piece of something. His funeral was certainly fun.”

  “Mixed emotions are the worst,” muttered Easton.

  “How’s that?” queried Alex.

  “Like, I was sad when our dad died. But, I also hated the prick, and part of me was relieved to see him go. But then that made me feel guilty. But then I remembered how he treated Hayden and me, and the guilt gave way too smarmy indifference. But then I’d remember the handful of not-completely-terrible times we spent with him, and the sadness would return, and the circle would continue like that.” Easton shrugged. “Sometimes I feel like it would just be easier to have had the sadness stand alone, even if it was overwhelming sadness, because at least then it would have been crystalline and pure.”

  “It’s not so different with the living, though maybe not quite so taxing,” said Alex. “For instance, how often is it that we find ourselves both disdaining someone and finding them rather,” she searched for the right word, “intoxicating?”

  Easton eyed her. “I’m not sure. I guess when it comes to the living, I am better-suited to just focusing on one emotion at a time. But I
do agree that ‘intoxicating’ the right adjective for some of my recent feelings regarding certain members of the living.”

  “Right. I’m gonna go,” said Hayden.

  “What?” said Alex. “No! No need, do please stay.”

  Hayden laughed. “Listen lady, you’re cool, but I’m sick as hell and I’d rather not pass out face-first in my pizza, and listening to you two exchange passive-aggressive innuendo is going to make me puke, and let’s be real, I do that enough with my chemo.” He turned to his brother. “Ima take the limo, bro. You get whatever ride you can. But I’m going to enjoy some much-needed medical cannabis and sleep in until tomorrow afternoon.” He returned his attention to Alex, taking her hand to kiss it. “Lovely to make your acquaintance, Miss MacTaggart.”

  She gave him a delicate hug. “Rest well, Hayden. Nice to meet you too.”

  Hayden gave them both a little half-bow and departed. As he approached the door, he nearly collapsed, grasping his cane for balance. Before Alex could even react, Easton flew across the room, supporting his brother’s weight, and walked him outside.

  Alex was slightly rattled but suppressed it by the time Easton had gotten back. “I’m glad you care about someone not named ‘Easton,’” she said. Then, smirking, she added, “Though I guess his last name is still ‘Cooper.’”

  “Well, I haven’t had much reason to care about anybody who isn’t Hayden most of my life,” said Easton. “I’ve always been leeched off of.”

  Alex rolled her eyes. “You’ve been doing well, do not start with that entitled rich cracker crap.”

  Easton chuckled. “I hear you, but that’s not even what I mean. Yeah, trust me, I know that I almost always get what I want, and yeah, I really do love it. And yes, I’ve used my fame and fortune to help ensure that I continue down that wonderfully convenient trajectory. But every now and again, I just want a human connection that isn’t contingent upon what I represent, but rather who I am. That’s what’s great with Hayden. He’s not trying to get anything from me that I wouldn’t already provide, and frankly, it’s not like he needs me.” Easton sighed. “I don’t even know what I’m trying to say. Sorry for rambling.”