Final Offer (Dreamland Billionaires #3) by Lauren Asher

Cal looks over at me like I should know the answer.

“I remember my mom saying the previous owner covered up the floors in the kitchen, so I think the original flooring runs throughout the house.”

“I can have one of my guys take a look and confirm if that’s true. If they are original, we only need to refinish them which will save us a lot of time compared to waiting for a new floor.”

“With us setting such a high sale price, would buyers expect something more modern? Like marble perhaps?” Cal crosses his arms against his chest, giving me a perfect view of his veiny forearms.

I nearly miss what he says because I’m too distracted from the arm porn happening right now.

“Marble?” I ask.

“What’s wrong with marble?” Cal frowns.

“It doesn’t fit the style of the house.”

“Neither does the price tag, but that didn’t bother you before.” He grins.

I could strangle him right here, right now with Ryder as my sole witness. Maybe for the right price, he would be willing to supply me with some cement sneakers.

Ryder’s dark eyes bounce between the two of us. “If you want marble floors for a house of this size, you’re looking at a six-month wait, at the very least, depending on our supplier.”

Cal waves his hand in the air. “That won’t work then. Let’s stick with the original floors.”

Ryder moves on to the kitchen while Cal and I follow behind. He pokes around and scribbles notes across his clipboard while making different noises to himself. Some sound confirmatory while others make the hairs on my arms raise.

He seems especially unhappy when he whips out a handy-dandy tool and starts hacking away at a goddamn wall. He mutters a curse under his breath before turning to face us. “So do you want the good news or the bad news first?”

Cal leans against the island with a smile. “You found something good about the place? I’m absolutely shocked.”

I pinch him in the side. “I’ll take the bad news first please.”

“You have asbestos.”

Oh, no.

“You’re kidding me.” Cal frowns.

“It’s pretty typical in homes of this age. We need to contact an asbestos abatement contractor who works with us to come out and carefully remove the mineral fiber from the walls, floors, and insulation.”

Cal pulls out his phone and gets to researching, completely tuning out my panicked gasp.

“They’re going to have to rip out walls?”

“Potentially. I’m not going to open up any more holes without the proper equipment.”

“What’s the good news?” I rub my temple.

“It shouldn’t take longer than three weeks, give or take how soon someone can come out here to clear it out. By the time you come back, all of it should be removed and we can get started on the demo. It will set us behind a bit with our timeline, but you can spend the time picking out the finishes.”

My world spins around me like I just stepped off a tilt-a-whirl. “Whoa. Wait. What do you mean come back? Where are we going?”

Ryder frowns. “Now that we found asbestos, I don’t recommend you stay here until we have professionals remove it.”

“Why not?”

Cal speaks up, his jaw working. “Because there is no way I’m letting you live around something that could cause you cancer.”

“Cancer?” My eyes widen.

“Pack your bags because you and Cami are staying with me at the guesthouse.”

After Ryder leaves, I do my own thorough search about what kind of health risks asbestos poses while Cal takes the initiative and books an abatement team to get started on Friday once I pack up the rest of the house.

I only have two options for a temporary living situation, one of which is automatically a no-go because Violet has two roommates right now and no guest bedroom for me and a small child. Delilah and Wyatt’s two-bedroom starter home is my only other option. I just need to call Delilah once she gets off work and ask her first.

Cal doesn’t seem to like me evading his order to stay at the guesthouse. He hasn’t stopped following me around all afternoon, which has been both annoying and useful when I need to reach tall items.

I navigate my way through the garage, careful not to run into any of the stacks of boxes Cal lined up for the moving company.

I get distracted by his presence and trip. He catches my elbow before I fall face-first into a row of boxes.

“Will you stop following me around everywhere?” I rip my hand out of his grasp.

“Not until you agree to not staying here tonight.”

“Fine!” I throw my hands in the air. “I didn’t plan on sleeping here anyway.”

His brows pull together. “So, you’re staying at the guesthouse?”

“No.” I struggle to reach for the luggage on the top shelf despite balancing on the tips of my toes.

Cal reaches around my body and grabs the suitcase off the shelf for me. The brush of his chest against my back has me suppressing a shiver, a fact that doesn’t seem to go unnoticed based on the way he trails a single digit down my spine.

“Where are you going to go then?” His question has a certain edge to it.

Oh, that’s it.

I turn on my heels, and our chests brush. “I don’t know, but there is no way in hell I’m sharing the guesthouse with you.”