The Billionaire’s Forbidden Little Sister

by Monroe, Max

  “Holy shit,” she whispers and promptly snags my attention as she rests her head on my shoulder. “That was some kind of friendshipping.”

  It certainly was some kind of something…

  Still a little mindfucked by my own thoughts, all I can do is nod and press a soft kiss to her lips. But she’s otherwise—and thankfully—distracted as she disentangles herself from my body and doesn’t seem to notice what has to be a weird as fuck expression on my face.

  I swallow against the confusion that’s coiling itself inside my chest and wreaking havoc in my mind, and I try to act like a man who hasn’t just realized he might be catching real feelings for the woman in front of him.

  Catching feelings, also known as falling in love…

  I swallow again and promptly push the thoughts out of my head.

  With her stilettos now firmly on the ground, she looks up at me with a secret little smile. “I’m such a big fan of our friendshipping, Theo, that I’d like to do more of it tonight…after you feed me dinner.”

  I glance at the clock on the stove and see it’s nearing eleven.

  “You didn’t eat?” I ask as I adjust my boxer briefs, and she shakes her head.

  “We were too busy in Loro’s studio. Hell, I didn’t even eat lunch today.”

  “Well, shit, that’s no good. Do you want to order some takeout?”

  “Yeah,” she responds but then immediately takes it back. “Wait…no. No takeout.”

  “Cook something here, then?”

  “I have a better idea.” Her face lights up. “Would you like to see my coffee shop?”

  “Wait. What?” I step back in surprise. “You have a coffee shop?”

  “I do. It’s in Chelsea, and the kitchen holds all of the ingredients for the best panini sandwich you’ll ever taste.”

  “Is it still open this late?”

  “It’s not.” Her smile is mischievous, and she waggles her brows. “But since I own it, I just so happen to have a key.”

  When I pull my BMW to a stop in front of Jovial Grinds, it’s just a little after midnight. The street is bare of pedestrians and cars racing to get to their next destination, and the only signs of life are the streetlamps that hang over the sidewalks.

  Lena sits beside me in one of my baggy T-shirts and a pair of my sweat pants.

  Truthfully, she’s never looked more beautiful than she does in my clothes, and I make a mental note to find ways to get her to do this more often.

  Besides the softly lit sign hanging in front of the building, the coffee shop is dark inside, but Lena doesn’t hesitate to hop out of the passenger seat and head to the front doors.

  I click off the engine and follow her lead, watching in amusement as she pulls the key out of her purse and jingles it in front of my face.

  “I feel like we’re doing something illegal,” I tease, and she grins up at me.

  “Well, you’re parked illegally, but the cops around here generally don’t give a shit at this hour, so you shouldn’t have to deal with a $200 ticket.”

  I laugh. “If I end up with a $200 parking ticket, these panini sandwiches better be real fucking good.”

  “Whatever, Mr. Billionaire,” she retorts and unlocks the front door. “Pretty sure you could afford it, and just so we’re clear, Jovial Grind’s panini sandwiches are that good.”

  She locks the door behind us, turns on a few lights, and gestures dramatically with one hand. “Let me be the first to officially welcome you to Jovial Grinds.”

  A smile consumes my mouth as I move my gaze around the establishment. With stainless-steel countertops, checkerboard black-and-white tiled floors, and walls covered with abstract art, it’s hip, it’s cool, and one-hundred-percent Lena.

  “I like it, and strangely enough, it’s exactly how I pictured it would be,” I comment honestly and look over to find her behind the front counter and grabbing plates from a rack. “When did you open this?”

  “I didn’t open it,” she corrects. “It was a high school graduation gift from my dad.”

  “That’s a generous graduation gift.”

  “Yeah, well, my dad has always been a bit lavish in his gifts and attention when it comes to me.” She shrugs. “And while this gift was pretty damn wonderful, it didn’t exactly help me.”

  I raise a curious brow. “Mind elaborating on how owning your very own coffee shop at eighteen years old didn’t help you?”

  “Instead of trying to figure out what I really wanted to do with my life, I kind of used it as a sandbox to hide my indecisive head.”

  I nod in understanding. “Gotcha.”

  “What about you? How did you find yourself the face of Cruz Nightlife?” she asks and gestures for me to follow her into the back room.

  “Well, I knew I wanted to be a part of the empire my grandfather created. But I also knew I wanted to create something new. Something that was just mine.” We walk through the swinging door, and Lena turns on the panini grill. “And I guess that’s how Cruz Nightlife started. I opened my first club in Miami nearly a decade ago and haven’t stopped since.”

  “Speaking of your family,” she starts with a tickled smile, “how’s Bro and his eye patch?”

  “Last I heard, he’s eye patch free and still living it up in my villa.” I laugh and sigh at the same time. “But, honestly, you never really know with Brogan. He never stays in one place for too long.”

  She grins over her shoulder as she opens the fridge and pulls out large Tupperware containers of meats and cheese and condiments. “He drives you crazy, doesn’t he?”

  “Was it that obvious in Italy?”

  Lena nods and holds up two fingers, just barely spreading them apart. “Just a little bit.”

  “Well, it’s safe to say, he does drive me crazy.” I run a hand through my hair and lean against the stainless-steel counter while Lena slices a French baguette with a knife. “But it’s more because I worry, and it’s hard for me to understand that his gypsy lifestyle is truly good for him. At some point, you need to put down roots and sit in one place for more than a few months at a time.”

  “Maybe he doesn’t need that, though?” she tosses back. “Maybe that gypsy lifestyle is what makes him happy?”

  “I have a hard time believing that. Eventually, doesn’t everyone need someplace to call home?”

  “That’s a good question.” Lena shrugs and proceeds to prepare two sandwiches before tossing them onto the panini grill. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I kind of wonder if maybe you’re projecting your needs onto your brother.”

  “But I have a home,” I respond with a cheeky grin. “A few of them, in fact.”

  She rolls her eyes. “You and I both know that I’m not talking about an actual building with walls and a roof, Theo. I’m talking about a home. It can be anything from a city that makes you happy, to family, to a best friend, to finding someone you want to spend the rest of your life with.”

  I search her eyes, completely unsure how to respond to that.

  If what she says is right, then that would mean I’ve been searching for a home in the form of someone I can see a future with. Which would mean the way I’m starting to feel about her equates to me feeling that she could be home for me.

  Not to mention, I can’t ignore that her insightful words came directly from her head.

  Is she searching for the same thing I’m possibly searching for, too?

  Someone to spend forever with?

  Before I can understand where my head is at or even find the words to respond to her, a loud banging comes from the front of the store, and both Lena and I look at each other in confusion.

  “Are you expecting someone to stop by?” I ask, and she shakes her head.

  But when the banging continues, she quickly pulls the panini sandwiches off the grill and makes her way to the swinging door.

  Concerned for her safety, I follow her, but when I’m two steps through the door, she mutters, “Oh shit,” and all but shoves me back.r />
  “What?” I ask, and her eyes are wide.

  “It’s Maybe,” she whispers.

  “Oh shit.”

  “Lena!” Maybe’s voice echoes into the back room. “What are you doing? Is everything okay?”

  “Uh…just a minute!” Lena shouts back and then grimaces toward me. “I need to go talk to her or else she’ll, like, call the cops or something. But obviously, you need to stay right here where she can’t see you.”

  It feels all kinds of fucking wrong, but I’m left with no other choice.

  So, I stand there like a dumb fuck while Lena goes to the entrance doors.

  “Hey girl, hey!” she exclaims, but I don’t miss the nerves in her voice. “What are you doing here?”

  “I was stuck in the shop working on flower arrangements with my insane mom, and when I was walking to my car, I happened to see the lights were on, so I figured I’d check to see if everything was okay.”

  “Everything is great,” Lena responds, but her voice is a little too cheery. “No problems here.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “Of course I’m okay. I was craving a sandwich and just figured I’d stop by the ole coffee shop to see how things are going.”

  “But it’s, like, one in the morning,” Maybe points out.

  “Yeah, well, I had a late night at Loro’s studio, so here I am.”

  “Who is in there with you?”

  “No one,” Lena answers a little too quick.

  “But I swore I saw a man behind you when you first came out.”

  “A man?” Lena laughs. “Don’t be ridiculous. I think all that wedding stress is starting to go to your head.”

  Maybe’s voice turns suspicious—even more so than before, that is. “Are you sure everything is okay?”

  “Positive,” Lena answers quickly. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to get back to making my sandwich and head home. And you should definitely do the same, sweet cheeks. I’ll see you tomorrow at your fitting, k?”

  “But—”

  “Love you, Maybe! See you tomorrow night!”

  Shortly after that, I hear the sound of the front door closing, and moments later, Lena appears through the swinging door.

  We both just look at each other until she breaks the silence with, “Talk about a close fucking call.”

  I laugh. “My thoughts exactly.”

  “Do you think she bought it?”

  I cringe. “Well…I’m probably not going to start calling you James Bond.”

  “Hell’s bells,” Lena mutters through a groan. “She’s going to ask me so many damn questions tomorrow night at her bridal fitting. Keeping shit secret is a hell of a lot harder than I thought.”

  “Says the girl who was texting me about my cock when she knew I was in a room with her brother.”

  Lena winks. “You can’t deny it worked out pretty well in the end, though…”

  Thoughts of her showing up to my place naked beneath a trench coat fill my head.

  “You make a good point, honey,” I admit with a sneaky smile. “Feel free to text me about my cock any time.”

  “I’m adding that to the rules,” she teases, and I chuckle.

  “Yes. Do that.”

  She grabs the panini sandwiches and tosses them back onto the grill. “How about we take these sandwiches to go?”

  “Afraid someone else is going to stop by?”

  “No.” She shakes her head, and her smile turns devious. “I was just thinking we should get back to your place so I can spend some more up close and personal time with your cock.”

  She doesn’t have to tell me twice. We’re out of Jovial Grinds and heading—more like racing—back to my place minutes later.

  If what Lena and I are doing is wrong, I’m having a hell of a hard time understanding why I’d ever want to be right…

  Lena

  My best friend steps out of the dressing room of the bridal shop, and I almost start to cry. Tonight is her final fitting, and since I was in Milan for the others, it is the very first time I get to see her wedding dress.

  It’s downright stunning. A soft white in color, with tasteful sequins sewn throughout, the dress has a strapless bodice that fits tightly around her chest, her belly, her hips, and thighs, until it starts to flare out around her knees.

  Look out Ariel, Maybe is the perfect bridal mermaid.

  She stares at her reflection in the mirror, her fingertips brushing along the material.

  “Maybe,” I say through a tearful smile and rise from my chair to stand behind her. “You look so damn beautiful that I’m regretting the fact that I didn’t put on waterproof mascara!”

  She giggles and looks at me over her shoulder. “You think Milo is going to like it?”

  “Like it?” I roll my eyes and laugh. “Honey, he is going to shit himself when he sees you walk down that aisle. Big, Great-Dane-sized feces everywhere.”

  “Ew. Gross.” A line of disgust forms between her brows, and I laugh as I swipe two fingers below my eyes.

  “Oh, you know what I mean,” I retort and grab both her hands. I hold her arms out wide and take another look at the beauty that is my blushing best friend in her wedding gown, just days before she marries the man of her freaking dreams. “It’s perfect. You’re perfect.”

  “Thanks, Lena,” she whispers, and I don’t hesitate to hug her gently.

  “I can’t believe the big day is almost here.”

  “Me either,” she says through a giggle as one of the bridal shop employees examines her hemline closely. “I feel like there’s so much to be done and I’m running out of days to do it.”

  “Everything is going to come together, Maybe.”

  “Yeah, well, someone needs to tell my mom that.” She snorts. “If she has another freak-out about the flower arrangements that has me running to the shop after midnight, I might strangle her.”

  So that’s why she ended up at Jovial Grinds last night.

  Her family’s floral shop is just up the street from my coffee shop.

  Funny enough, the closeness of the establishments is what brought us together in the first place. When she moved back home from college, she worked at her parents’ floral shop temporarily while she busted her ass to nail her dream job with a successful New York publishing house.

  I just nod toward her in understanding, a little too hopeful that this conversation will move right along to something that won’t put me in a situation where I have to lie to her again.

  “Speaking of which,” she says and flashes a knowing gaze toward me. “Who was in Jovial Grinds with you last night?”

  Definitely too hopeful.

  “No one,” I answer, but she’s not buying it.

  “Lena, I know someone was in there. In fact, I know a man was in there. What I don’t know is why you’re trying to hide that from me.”

  “I’m not hiding anything.”

  “Liar.” She glares at me. “Honestly, I can’t believe you of all people are lying to me right now while I’m literally wearing my wedding dress. Surely that’s bad luck.”

  Oh, for fuck’s sake…

  “Let’s all keep our fingers crossed that nothing tragic happens on my wedding day,” she continues, and I let out a heavy sigh.

  “Don’t be so damn dramatic. Nothing tragic is going to happen on your wedding day.”

  “That is the case if you tell me the truth,” she corrects. “But if you keep lying to me, who knows what’ll happen… The Mother of Dragons might torch King’s Landing again.”

  “This is really how you want to play it?”

  “Yep.”

  She’s making this really fucking hard and damn near impossible for me to stick Theo’s and my rules—Rule Number Four: This stays top secret. Just between us.

  “You’ve given me no other choice but to guilt you into telling me, your best fucking friend in the whole wide world, the truth.”

  Son of a bitch.

  For a blessed few minutes, Ma
ybe is momentarily distracted by the bridal shop employee. They talk about the fit and agree that nothing else needs to be done with the dress.

  But once her dress pickup time is confirmed, Maybe turns her full attention back to me. “So…are you going to tell me the truth?” she asks and puts a defiant hand to her hip. “Or are you going to keep lying to me about the man who was most definitely at Jovial Grinds with you?”

  When I don’t respond, she adds, “A man who I know drives a black BMW and whose license plate I jotted down in my phone.”

  “Are you serious with that nonsense?” I question. “You wrote down the license plate number of some random stranger’s car in front of my coffee shop?”

  “Dead fucking serious,” she answers. “And you and I both know that it wasn’t some random stranger.”

  “And what are you going to do with that information?”

  “I figure someone could help me figure it out.”

  “Like who?”

  “I don’t know.” She shrugs. “Someone who is capable of doing background checks.”

  “And you don’t think this is taking it a little too far?”

  She shakes her head.

  “You do realize this is a bit over the top, right?”

  “Yeah, well, I don’t like when my best friend lies to me, so…”

  Good God. I think all this wedding planning has made her crazy.

  “Who do we know who can do a background check?” she asks out loud and taps a finger on her chin. “What about your brother, Cap? Surely, he knows someone…”

  Goddammit, the sneaky little shrew. Now she’s really giving me no choice here. She knows, even if it wasn’t Theo I was involved with, the last person I’d want poking around in my love life is my brother.

  “Fine,” I mutter and raise up both hands. “Fine, I’m going to tell you something, but you need to promise me it stays between us.”

  “Promise.”

  “There was someone with me at Jovial Grinds last night,” I admit. “It was, in fact, a man.”

  When I don’t expand, she probes for more. “And?”

  “And…well…he’s someone I’m spending time with. Someone I met when I was on vacation in Positano.”