Final Offer (Dreamland Billionaires #3) by Lauren Asher

My mouth opens, the truth lying on the tip of my tongue.

Because no matter what has changed between us, the memories tied to that piece of wood will always hold a special place in my heart.

Sharing what the plank meant to me feels like betraying myself and the anger I’ve spent years holding on to.

It doesn’t matter anymore. It’s gone now.

I clear my throat. “Whatever. It’s not like it matters anyway. It was just a stupid piece of wood.”

His face crumples. I slide out from underneath his arms, leaving him staring at the space I once occupied.

***

I type out a new message to Cal, jabbing my screen like it personally offended me.

You have another package.



Cal’s reply is instant.

That one’s for you.



My mouth drops open.

You ordered something for me?



I owed you after scaring you last night.



I battle between opening the package and leaving the cardboard box to rot in the garage. Curiosity wins over common sense, so I grab a pair of scissors from the kitchen and open the box.

My hands tremble as I pull out a new baby monitor.

Oh my God.

My heart betrays me in that moment, throbbing painfully in my chest.

It’s just a baby monitor, I try to rationalize with myself. Except it has nothing to do with the baby monitor and everything to do with the fact that Cal cares enough about me to replace the one that fell into the water.

Honestly, I’m not sure he ever stopped caring.

How am I supposed to hate the man when he does thoughtful shit like this?

You’ll never be able to hate him and you know it.

No, but at least the idea of hating him makes me feel in control.

This feeling though? The one that makes my heart beat wildly in my chest and my head spin with ideas about him?

I need to shut that shit down fast.





“Por Dios, no empieces conmigo.” I smash the side of my hand mixer for the fifth time tonight. Between it overheating from too much use and its old age, I’m lucky the motor still runs.

I haven’t been able to part with the baking tool, especially since my mom got it for me, but I’d kill for one of those fancy mixers right about now. Once upon a time I had one, but it broke and I never got around to buying a new one because a majority of my money went into making sure Cami had everything she needed.

If only they didn’t cost more than half a paycheck.

“Esta vaina.” I continue banging the side of the mixer.

Someone chuckles.

I look up to find Cal standing in the doorway of the kitchen with a smile. “All good?”

“Having the time of my life, thanks for asking.”

He motions toward the mixer in my hand. “Need any help?”

“I’ve got it.” In a final act of betrayal, the metal flat beaters spin twice before halting altogether. I place it on the other side of the counter to prevent myself from doing something I might regret.

“I could take a look at it if you want.” He reaches for the mixer.

“Don’t worry about it. I have enough buttercream to finish up the last few cupcakes.”

“Is that guava frosting?” Cal’s voice hits a rare high pitch. He reaches for the mixing bowl beside me with bright eyes, but I slap his hand away.

He pouts, reminding me so much of Cami. “Come on. Just let me have a little taste.”

“No. That’s unsanitary.”

His eyes roll. “No one will know.”

“My students might not, but I will.”

“So? Aren’t these the same kids who eat dirt on a daily basis?”

“That only happened one time while I was subbing.”

He leans against the counter with a smile. “What do you teach now?”

“Spanish.” I refocus my attention on icing the cupcake in front of me. Maybe if I act like I’m not interested in talking to him, then Cal will go away.

“Do you like it?”

“It pays well.” Being the only Spanish teacher in all of Lake Wisteria has its perks, especially when kids need private tutoring for advanced placement exams and finals.

“You didn’t really answer my question.”

Damn him.

“I don’t mind it.” Sure, it’s not my dream job per se, but the kids are cute and I’m able to go home by three in the afternoon, which is a major plus.

He scans the kitchen counters, taking in the hundred cupcakes. “So what’s the special occasion?”

So much for him leaving.

My hand clutching the piping bag tightens. A blob of icing drops on to the half-finished cupcake, ruining my design.

“We’re celebrating the last week of school.” I swipe the botched icing off the cupcake with my index finger and walk over to the sink to rinse it off.

Cal snatches on to my hand and tugs me away from the sink. My chest smacks into his, stealing my breath away.

I attempt to push him away. “What are you doing?”

“Something I can’t resist.” The glint in his eyes should come with a warning label.

No.

“Cal…” The breathy way I say his name only seems to encourage him.

Cal tsks me like a child. “Your mom taught us better than to waste any food.” He lifts my hand to his mouth. His eyes hold mine hostage, casting a spell on me while his lips close around my icing-covered finger. Every single cell in my body explodes when his tongue brushes against my skin.