Bonding the Billionaires (Bonding the Babes #2)

Chapter 1

Clover

“Iswear he’s growing bigger by the day.” I laughed as Forest cuddled into my chest. At four months old, my best friend’s baby was just starting to interact with the world around him and was growing like a weed.

Meadow beamed as she watched us. “He’s a baby, they tend to do that.”

I wanted to squish his adorably round cheeks. He still mostly smelled like his mama, a sweet white rose and lilac, but his daddies rarely let him lie down anywhere besides their arms, so my little sapling had a unique combination of scents on his skin.

Motherhood suited Meadow. Her pregnancy had been an accident, but it had worked out pretty well for her. She was now living a life of luxury in LA with four hot, rich alphas who spoiled her rotten.

When would I get to stumble into a loving life of luxury?

I wasn’t totally lacking in the luxury department. As Meadow’s bestie and Forest’s auntie, her alphas made sure I wanted for nothing, and that included a kick-ass guesthouse while I deferred law school for a year to help with their new baby.

“You know, you would be able to see him grow extra close up if you lived in the main house with us.” Meadow scooched closer to me and made a playful face at Forest.

“Meadow, I love you dearly, but, I told you before, the guesthouse is perfect because I’m too far to hear you and your pack going at it like rabbits.

I know you fuckers were counting down the days until you could get freaky again.

You weren’t subtle when you asked me to have a sleepover with Forest right as you hit the six-week mark on your recovery.

I don’t believe for a second that it’s because you were ‘under the weather.’”

Meadow’s cheeks flushed. “In fairness, I did feel much better afterward.”

I laughed, throwing my head back. The new angle gave Forest the perfect opportunity to throat punch me with his tiny, chubby baby fist.

“Oof, not fair, sapling,” I grumbled and rearranged the baby so he couldn’t continue his tiny assault.

“He’s going to get famous in the WWE at this rate,” Arlo said, sweeping in with a glass of water and a kiss for Meadow. “You punching your auntie, Forest? We don’t hit pretty ladies, even if they’re an acquired taste.”

I flipped him the bird and cuddled his baby closer. “Can’t punch me if he’s stuck in a snuggle.”

Forest squirmed, turning and pawing at my chest.

“Well, looks like this one is taking after his daddies and wants some boobs. Sorry, sapling, I don’t have the mommy milkers for titty time like your mama does. I’ll have to give you back.”

“Mommy milkers?” Arlo turned to me with glee on his face. “Why haven’t I heard that delightful term yet?”

I shrugged. “Because I’m cool, and you’re an old man.” Arlo was by no means old, but I took way too much enjoyment in referencing our two-year age difference.

“I’m not old, I’m distinguished!” he insisted as I handed his son back to Meadow, who was ignoring us and focusing on Forest. She was used to Arlo and I ribbing each other.

“Is that what we’re calling it now? Whatever helps you sleep at night, old-timer.”

“Old-timer?” he asked in horror.

“You haven’t noticed the grays?”

Arlo’s eyes widened, and he rushed over to an ornate mirror that hung in the hall. “There are no grays! My hair is perfect.”

“They’re right there.” I gestured broadly. “Should we book you in for an eye test?”

“Why we chose to keep you, I have no idea,” he grumbled.

“It’s because you love Meadow, and she loves me!” I declared happily.

Arlo sighed with a dramatic shake of his head. “I suppose you have your uses…”

“I’ve got to head to Pilates or I’ll be late, but I’ll see you tonight. Let me know if I’m having another sleepover because you’re ‘under the weather’ again.”

“You really are loving the LA lifestyle, aren’t you?” Meadow asked as I stood up, stretching.

“Pilates is actually kind of fun. You should join me for a class. Just think of how stretchy you’ll get. I can wrap my hands around my ankles now!”

Arlo snorted, leaning down and kissing the top of Meadow’s head. “Oh, our girl can do that already. We keep her plenty limber.”

“Gross!” I cried, picking up a throw pillow and tossing it at Arlo. “I’m going to class now and leaving you degenerates to it.”

“Are you guys fighting again?” Beckett sighed, coming to check on us from their in-house studio, Phin and Hendrix in tow.

“Not fighting,” Arlo insisted. “It’s a spirited conversation. Clover can’t hate me when I got her a baby of her own!”

He was talking about my shiny pink McLaren monstrosity. It was amazing—my pride and joy—and I loved it, but I wasn’t in a rush to tell Arlo that.

“Later, gators. I’ve got to go get sweaty.” I blew them all kisses and headed out to my fabulous car parked in their driveway. It went so fucking fast, I had to keep a careful eye on the speedometer since it was so smooth I never noticed when I started zooming.

The route to Pilates was familiar by now, and I’d quickly ingratiated myself with the staff at the little boutique studio.

I’d tried out almost a dozen studios, but I did not vibe with some of the patrons and tried to avoid the ones overrun with snobby women who flocked like flamingos to judge everyone around them.

The studio I’d settled on was tucked away, and so far, the richies hadn’t swarmed it yet.

I was speeding down a beautiful stretch of road, toward the edge of the gated community I lived in, so it was fairly quiet when my tire erupted into strips of rubber, forcing me to slam on the brakes.

“Motherfucker,” I hissed and pulled onto the side of the road. I could change a tire on a normal vehicle, but the tire of a McLaren was probably more complex than the old beat-up Honda Civic I’d been driving in Seattle.

I got out and circled the vehicle to survey the damage.

The rear tire was completely blown. I returned to the car, fishing out my cell phone from my purse, and pulling up Meadow’s number.

Her guys would know someone who could help me out, or one of them could probably change it.

I’d most likely end up with roadside assistance, but I still loved the idea of rock stars changing a tire for me.

Only, I had been so distracted playing with their adorable baby, I hadn’t thought to charge my phone. The Pilates studio had charging ports, so I had intended to charge my phone while I was busy folding myself into a pretzel.

Leaning into the car, I grabbed the charging cable and I plugged my phone in, waiting for the flashing light to show up to indicate it was charging.

I straightened with a relieved sigh. It was going to be a few minutes before I could call anyone, so I would enjoy the scenery until then. LA was beautiful and I’d quickly felt at home there. After the rain of Seattle, LA’s warmth and social atmosphere was a pleasant surprise.

Don’t get me wrong—there were a few things about LA I didn’t like. Such as when I ordered a burger and was served a veggie burger as if they were the same thing. They weren’t.

I was a carnivore, and nothing got between me and a cheeseburger.

Their fish tacos, though? God-tier.

Also, the sunshine? Nothing beat that and I’d been treating sunbathing as a part-time job.

A sleek black car slowed to a stop behind me, the head of an unfairly gorgeous man with chocolate brown curls and dark eyes popping out the window.

“You need help?” he asked, a waft of salty scent—fresh and clean like the ocean but also masculine and undoubtedly alpha—hitting me square in the face.

Hot damn.

“I wouldn’t say no. My tire decided exploding was the way to go today.” I turned toward him so I wasn’t ass-out leaning on my car.

“Your pack isn’t around to help you out?”

I laughed. “Maybe if I had one. I’m single as a Pringle.”

He raised a manicured eyebrow. His curls were fucking cute, all neatly styled instead of a fuzzy mess. “That so? Well, I’d hate to leave a beautiful woman in distress.”

“Beautiful, yes. In distress, not so much. It’s nothing I can’t handle.”

“Also, if any snack understands the pack life, it’s a Pringle.

Have you seen how many they shove in a tube?

” He turned off his car and slipped out, showing off his neat slacks and blue polo that matched the shade of my eyes.

Preppy, but cute, and I couldn’t help noticing the way his pants hugged his ass as he squatted down to inspect the wheel well.

“Are these all-weather or all-season tires?”

“Am I supposed to know the difference?”

He lifted big brown puppy eyes at me. Rude of him to be that precious. “I’m going to assume all-weather since you had a blow out and it’s hot as hell. Are you not from around here? Or from Northern Cali? You look like an LA girl, but your car is telling a different story.”

“What the fuck story is it telling?”

“That you love pink.” He grinned.

“You mean the person I stole the car from loves pink.”

His expression fell for a second before he figured out my answering smile meant I was joking.

“Don’t worry, cutie, you’re not an accessory to grand theft auto. I moved from Seattle.”

“You think I’m cute?”

“I have eyes, don’t I?”

He wasn’t just puppy-dog cute, he filled out his shirt in a way that made it obvious he could toss me around a room if I wanted him to. God, I wanted to be tossed.

It had been a while since I’d had a little release.

I was living in proximity to the horniest pack known to man, and my own sex life had been annoyingly stagnant.

When I first got to LA, I had attempted to date, but one too many overly primped, movie-star wannabes and finance bros had killed my vibe for a while.

Toys were great, but they only did so much.

Sometimes a gal wanted a body pressed to hers.

And this stranger… his body looked perfect for that. His ocean scent swept over me again, making my core clench, and a needy whine built in my throat. Maybe it was time to break my dry spell?

“Roadside usually takes a couple hours, doesn’t it?”

He nodded, getting back to his feet, hands on his hips and still frowning at the wheel. “Unfortunately. I’d offer to change it, but this model doesn’t come with a spare tire, so you’ll have to get it towed. I’ll call it in and stay with you.”

“You don’t have to, I can wait by myself. I’m sure you have somewhere to be.”

He flashed me a perfect smile. “Nowhere more important than making sure you’re safe.”

God fucking dammit. Why did he have to go and be chivalrous on top of adorable? How was I supposed to resist that combination? “All right, but if you’re staying, I’ve got the perfect way to keep us entertained.”

“And how’s that?”

I walked my fingertips up his chest and threaded them through his curls. “I’m sure you can venture a guess.”