Scoring the Billionaire (Bad Boy Billionaires Book 3)

by Max Monroe

  “I’ve been told I’m quite the conversationalist.”

  I nudged his shoulder playfully. “Yeah. I’m sure Tammy, Sandie, Fiona and… Which charge nurse always works the night shift?”

  “Samantha,” he responded immediately.

  I grinned. “Oh, how could I forget Samantha? You two used to date, didn’t you?”

  “If by date, you mean sneaking quickies in the call room, then sure, we used to date,” he clarified with a sly smile. If it wasn’t already apparent, Scott was a great guy but also a huge flirt. He pretty much made a show of “dating” anything with big boobs and long legs. He wasn’t the type of guy who settled down. He was still enjoying being single and having zero responsibilities related to relationships.

  “Do you guys still date?”

  “Occasionally.” He winked.

  “Who else are you dating at St. Luke’s now?” I probed further with a teasing smile.

  He waggled his brows. “Mandy.”

  “I don’t remember a Mandy…”

  “She’s a new physician they just hired. She’s a lot like you, actually. Mean. Demanding. A total ballbuster.”

  “I’m not mean,” I said in feigned irritation, and he just chuckled softly in response.

  “When shit isn’t going smoothly, you can get a little mean, Win. Especially if you haven’t had a chance to caffeinate.”

  “Well, someone had to take charge. St Luke’s gets too many traumas to let chaos rule the flow.”

  “That’s why I miss having you there.” He tapped my hand that rested on the table with his fingers. “You ran a tight ship without pissing everyone off. A lot of people miss you, by the way. You sure you like this whole football gig?”

  “I’m sure.” I grinned and then thought more into his question. “Wait…is that why you agreed to come with me tonight? To try and lure me back to the ED.”

  He shrugged. “It was part of it.”

  I tilted my head to the side in curiosity. “What was the other part?”

  “I was hoping you’d reward me with some Mavericks tickets.”

  I laughed. “You’re a dick.”

  “Hey, stop thinking about my dick, Win,” he joked playfully. “You’re like a little sister to me.”

  “Gross.” I scrunched my nose up in disgust. “Don’t make me lose my appetite before they serve dinner.”

  He just laughed it off and wrapped his arm around my shoulder, pulling me close and kissing my temple chastely. “I’ve missed you, Win. Even though you’re kind of annoying, I’ve still missed you.”

  I patted his chest. “I’ve missed you, too. Even though you’re a total pain in my ass most of the time.”

  He chuckled. “Let’s keep in touch more. Okay? We can’t go months again without talking or hanging out.”

  “You’re ridiculous. I just talked to you last week when you called me about that aortic aneurysm.” I shrugged him off and took another sip of my wine.

  “Medical shit doesn’t count.”

  “What happened with that anyway?”

  “I was able to repair it, but Cummings had to do an emergency C-section before I could get her off my OR table. It was touch and go for a little bit, but mom and baby are doing well. Still admitted, but they’re recovering without any major complications.”

  “Nice work, Shepard,” I said and truly meant it. I knew when he had called me about that case, the odds of both mom and baby surviving a surgery like that weren’t good. It had to take some serious surgical skills and practically a miracle to get that mother off the OR table without something tragic happening. “Wait…So Will finally decided to commit to obstetrics?” I asked, curious to know how my buddy, and Georgia’s brother, Will Cummings was doing.

  He nodded and then shot me a quick wink. “Yep. Cummings found his calling being elbow-deep in vagina.”

  I laughed. “Good for him. I think he’ll make a fantastic high-risk OB.”

  “Meh. He’ll be all right,” he responded with an amused smirk.

  “You’re such an ass.” I laughed again and took a sip of wine.

  Scott’s phone vibrated along the table, and he sighed, long and deep. “I better get this. Give me a minute?”

  “Of course,” I said with a wave, and he got up from his seat and headed toward the terrace doors of the venue.

  “Can I get you another glass, miss?” the waiter asked, gesturing toward the bottle of wine in the ice bucket.

  I shook my head, and as he headed toward another table, my gaze followed his movement across the room, until it locked with someone else’s. I stilled in my seat when I realized the hazel eyes staring back at me were familiar. Very, very familiar.

  Wes sat at a different table across the room with an attractive blond woman mooning over his every word. I couldn’t stop myself from sizing her up, my eyes taking in her pretty face, her attractive figure. She ran her fingers across the top of her wineglass and smiled up at him.

  But his eyes weren’t on her; they were locked on me. His fucking eyes were trained on me while he was on a date with another woman.

  Why couldn’t he just leave me be?

  He haunted my thoughts every goddamn day, and now I had to see him here? With her? I felt overcome with the urge to burst into tears or scream or storm out of the restaurant. But none of those reactions would have been appropriate. Wes wasn’t mine. We weren’t together. And we never would be.

  But God, it hurt. It hurt to see him with someone else. Someone I didn’t know, but I could tell she wasn’t a mere acquaintance or long-lost cousin. The flutter of her eyelashes, the flirtatious smiles, the perfectly revealed cleavage—those were the trademarks of a woman on a date. A woman whose intentions didn’t end at friendly.

  U2’s “With or Without You” started to play softly in the background, and it couldn’t have been a more apt song choice for this moment. I felt every single lyric pass through the speakers of the venue and into my soul.

  Those lyrics, that song, it hit home. It caressed my battered heart.

  I couldn’t live without playful, loving, and caring Wes.

  But I couldn’t live with the man who’d let the words I can’t do this leave his lips when I was so close to letting go of all the things that worried and imprisoned me.

  Wes’s gaze searched mine, and somehow, I found the strength to avert my eyes before I showed him just how painful this situation was for me. I took another sip of wine and swallowed the much-needed alcohol down along with the irrational tears clogging my throat.

  I was determined to end this evening with my pride still intact. I would not be anything less than strong and composed. I could let my guard down and freak the fuck out when I was home, alone in my bedroom with another bottle of wine to keep me company.

  I needed to get myself together. I refused to let Wes witness that seeing him with someone else was hurting me. I had been through too much with him, and I could not stomach the idea that he had as much power over me as he did.

  You can lick your wounds at home, I told myself again.

  I’d be damned if I showed any signs of weakness in front of Wes Lancaster.

  She smiled and laughed, and my lungs felt like I had dunked them in ice. It was the burning, barely-holding-on-to-life kind of cold that you’d get from falling in a frozen lake or taking a Titanic-like dip in the North Atlantic. In other words, it was agony.

  Winnie Winslow was on a date.

  With a man who was distinctly, noticeably, heartbreakingly…not me.

  He was good looking and genuinely pleased to be in her company and so wrong for her I could barely stomach it. He laughed at the wrong time and talked over her when she was speaking, and to make matters worse, Winnie looked like she didn’t motherfucking loathe the space he took up.

  She looked like he was interesting and charming and way better than I ever was. And, goddamn, I wanted to clasp my hands around his neck and squeeze.

  “Wes?” an annoying voice called from across the table
.

  With work, I pulled my eyes from Win and her smarmy date and looked into the brown eyes of my own—date, that is.

  I know. I hate me too. But I just wanted something to make the pain go away.

  It should be noted that I’d previously had my assistant RSVP for me plus one for this charity function several months back with the mind-set that I’d get Win to go with me, as my date. Obviously, thanks to me, things had changed, and now, because I was an idiot and didn’t realize Winnie would obviously be here too, I got the excruciating opportunity to witness what my Winnie looked like in the company of another man.

  I guess she could probably say the same for me, though.

  I wasn’t here alone. That’s not to say I was actually enjoying my company like she seemed to be enjoying hers.

  There wasn’t anything wrong with my date. Felicity was good-looking, nice, and on any other night, I’m sure she would have been interesting. Tonight, I wasn’t sure anything could help me stop wanting to stab everyone.

  And no, she doesn’t look anything like Keri Russell.

  But who was I kidding? This wasn’t just about tonight. This had been every night since I fucked everything up and would continue on for what felt like eternity.

  In my eyes, no woman could or would ever match up to Winnie Winslow.

  And, as a kicker, a little bonus to my already fucking awful mood, I actually felt bad that I was doing this to Felicity because I was doing exactly what I hated—promising attention and not following through.

  Women deserved honesty always.

  And I wasn’t giving that to this most-likely-perfectly-fine woman because all my honesty, all my energy, all of me, was focused across the room—on the woman, I realized, I needed to be mine.

  My family, my honesty, my energy. Her and Lex.

  My effort and affection and anything else they could ever want from me.

  And I wanted everything with them.

  I’d known it when I had talked to Kline and Thatch, but I still didn’t know how to put it into practice. I’d been scared to make the changes, scared to take the leap and not have Win want me back.

  But that was stupid, and tonight proved it. You can’t choose what you’re destined for. That’s the whole fucking point. But you can choose how you handle it, how you live it, and up until now, I’d been doing a really shitty job of understanding that.

  Finally, I looked my date in the eye and smiled—and then internally cringed as she smiled back.

  “I’m really sorry, Felicity. This is probably the very worst thing a guy could do to you on a date, but…” I shrugged. “I’m in love with another woman. Two, actually.”

  Her eyes got round as I muttered on to myself.

  “One of them is six, so there’s that.”

  “Oh, my God,” she gasped, and I realized what it sounded like.

  Oh, holy fuck, I’m an idiot.

  “Oh, God. Jesus. No, no. It’s her daughter. She has a six-year-old daughter who I love like a daughter. No sicko, pedophilia stuff here. I swear.”

  I could hear the dirt hitting the ground as I kept on scooping it out with my shovel. Felicity covered her mouth with her napkin, and if my current luck was any indication, she was probably going to hurl.

  “I just wasn’t sure I was ready to be a dad,” I hurried on to explain.

  Some of the crazy finally left her eyes, and I took a deep gulp of vomit-scent-less air. Gauging the current status of a date on lack of puke wasn’t perfect, but fuck, breaking it off by telling her I loved someone else wasn’t going to be.

  Now I needed an opening.

  When I looked up, Winnie was alone.

  I stood to move, only to have Mr. Fuckface slide back into his seat right at that moment.

  Goddammit.

  Note to self: next time, be faster at explaining opposition to pedophilia.

  “Sorry about that,” Scott apologized as he slid back into his seat beside me.

  I waved him off with a nonchalant hand. “No worries. It’s not like I haven’t been there before.”

  He grinned. “Mind talking over a case with me?”

  “Dr. Scott Shepard wants my medical opinion on something?” I teased.

  “Hey, I might be a prideful son of a bitch, but I’m smart enough to know when I could use a little guidance.”

  I laughed. “Let me step outside and call Melinda to find out what time she’s dropping Lexi off, and then I’m all ears.”

  “You’re the best, Winnie Winslow.”

  “Geez, I already said I would. No additional buttering up is necessary.” I nudged his shoulder with my hand as I stood up, and he responded with a chuckle.

  “I’ll be right back.” I grabbed my purse and strode toward the lobby, using all of my strength to not glance in Wes and his date’s direction. Once I cleared the entrance, I walked toward the side of the modern building and leaned my body against the brick wall.

  My phone pinged with a notification, and it startled me out of my racing thoughts.

  Melinda: I think Lexi might be too tired to come tonight. She nearly fell asleep in her macaroni and cheese during dinner.

  Me: LOL. No worries. Just keep her at home, then.

  Melinda: Okay, good. She’s actually already in bed. :)

  Me: I should’ve figured. Once she hits the wall, she’s done for. Can you stay for a few more hours, or should I call Remy and see if he can hang out at the house for a little while?

  Melinda: Oh, no. I’m good. Stay out as late as you want. I’m hijacking your Netflix and watching that new show, Stranger Things. I’d like to get through the whole first season.

  Me: Perfect. You’re the best.

  Melinda: I know… :)

  I slid my phone back into my clutch and sighed a breath of relief. It was for the best that Lexi didn’t come out tonight, especially with Wes being here.

  In the past week, she’d just finally stopped asking about him.

  I had a feeling, if she would’ve come tonight, it would have opened a fresh can of worms that I honestly didn’t know if I could face. I mean, it’s not like my track record with insects in general was all that great.

  I rubbed at the spot on my chest that seemed relentless with its need to ache. I couldn’t deny that seeing Wes with someone who wasn’t me was pretty fucking terrible.

  God, I had to get it together. I just needed a few minutes to get some fresh air before I could face the very last fucking thing I wanted to see…again.

  I knew Wes was already dating, already moving on, already finding the next woman. I knew that, and yet I’d never expected it to hurt this bad. I didn’t think seeing him with someone else would’ve had me considering contacting Lexi’s father to schedule a lobotomy.

  “Win?” an all-too-familiar voice called toward me.

  For the love of God, why couldn’t he just leave me alone?

  Sure, we worked together, but he’d been pretty much scarce from the stadium lately, and I’d gone back to taking the train. God, those train rides now were even more awful.

  I shut my eyes, rested my head against the wall, and inhaled a deep breath.

  “Win, are you okay?” Wes asked, his voice closer now. He placed his hand gently on my bare shoulder and every cell in my body lit up with the urge to react. I wanted to scream at him. I wanted to sob. I wanted to curl into the fetal position and lose myself to the pain that had slowly seeped out of my heart and consumed every nerve.

  “I’m fine,” I whispered and somehow found the strength to open my eyes.

  His perfectly clear hazel eyes searching mine only made me feel worse.

  “You can go back inside, Wes,” I said. “I just came out here to make a quick phone call to Melinda.” Okay, so maybe that was a teensy tiny white lie, but seriously, he just needed to leave me alone.

  “Is Lexi okay?”

  God, why wouldn’t he just leave? Why couldn’t he realize his concern was misplaced? Why couldn’t he understand that he was hurting me
more by never really letting me go? He wanted to keep me at arm’s length, not too close, but not too far. He still wanted to be involved in Lexi’s life, yet he didn’t really want to be a part of our lives.

  I was tired of it. So fucking exhausted.

  I shrugged his arm off my shoulder and pushed off the wall. In that moment, I couldn’t bear to feel the warmth of his skin on my skin. “Enough,” I spat in his direction before I could stop myself. “You have to stop this.”

  “Stop what?” he asked and had the nerve to look baffled.

  “This,” I answered harshly, gesturing between us with an erratic hand. “Stop being the guy who asks me how my daughter is. Stop being the guy who acts like he cares, but in reality, he doesn’t care. Stop. Being. That. Guy.”

  He faltered back a step like my words had been a knife to the chest. “I do fucking care. I care about you and Lexi.”

  I shut my eyes and shook my head. “You’re so wrong. Because if that was the truth, you wouldn’t be on a date with another woman right now.” The words were out of my mouth before I could take them back.

  So much for acting like you’re unaffected…

  His face morphed into surprise, and I watched his mouth open and close a few times before he gritted his teeth. “I’m not the only one on a date.”

  Yeah, big date. I might as well have brought Remy.

  He stepped closer, and I moved back until the wall stopped my momentum, and that only allowed him to move in closer. “Who is he, Winnie? Is he your boyfriend?” he questioned in a harsh whisper, his mouth so close to my face that I felt the warmth of his breath brush across my nose.

  “He is none of your fucking business,” I retorted.

  “He is my business.”

  I shoved him away with both hands. “He’s not, Wes. Don’t you get it? It’s over between us, and that decision wasn’t mine. It was yours. You wanted things this way.”

  “That’s fresh, considering you were all too quick to write us off as some meaningless fuck.”