Love Redesigned (Lakefront Billionaires #1) by Lauren Asher

Sam earned himself a nice Christmas bonus for finding a pilot at the last minute and renting me a red Ferrari worth more than all my cars combined.

I park the car outside Dahlia’s townhouse before killing the engine and stepping out. The Victorian style fits Dahlia to a T, with white wood trim, blue siding, and those bay windows she loves so much.

I climb the steps, step over the faded mi casa es tu casa doormat, and ring the bell.

“Coming!”

The door swings open a few minutes later.

Dahlia rubs the sleep from her eyes. “You’re here.”

“I told you I would be.” I wrap my arm around her waist and crush my mouth against hers, kissing her like I’ve dreamed of doing since she left Lake Wisteria four days ago.

It quickly turns punishing as I take my frustration and worries out on her lips, sucking and biting them until she hisses.

I pull away and rest my forehead against hers. “I missed you.”

“It hasn’t been a week since I last saw you.”

“Four days too long.”

“You’re needy.”

“Tell me about it.”

She yawns. “When you said you were coming in the morning, I assumed you meant later.”

“I thought we could spend the day together.”

“What did you have in mind?”

“Whatever you want.”

“Breakfast for sure.”

“Yes, please.” My stomach grumbles on cue.

“Pedicures?”

I make a face. “Sure?”

She clasps her hands together. “Shopping?”

“I expected as much.”

The pure happiness radiating off her makes today’s early wake-up call worth it.

She grabs my hand and pulls me inside before shutting the door behind me. “Give me a few minutes to get dressed. Feel free to snoop around.”

I plan on taking her up on the opportunity, but a sealed box beside the door stops me.

“I’ve been meaning to send his stuff back.”

“You got his address wrong. Hell’s zip code is 666.”

She wraps her arms around my waist. “I feel better already about everything, and you’ve only been here for two minutes.”

“Am I going to find anything else of Oliver’s around here?”

“No. This has always been my place, though he hated the idea of us living separately.”

“Remind me to thank your mother for pushing against you living with someone before marriage.”

“I have a feeling you’ll regret that statement one day.”

“What—”

A phone ringing snags her attention, and she takes off up the stairs, leaving me alone. The warm color palette, hardwood floors, and mix of furniture and textures match Dahlia’s style perfectly, although the cardboard moving boxes in every room seem out of place.

Natural light pours through the windows, highlighting the picture frames hung in a neat row. Each holds a different sketch.

Her mother’s flower shop. The Founder’s house. Her current living room featuring different items from her décor collection.

“Ready?”

I turn to find Dahlia dressed for the chilly weather outside. “Are you moving?” I point to a stack of boxes beside her.

“Yeah.”

My stomach tightens. “Where to?”

“I’m not sure if you’ve heard of it, but there’s this small town in Michigan called Lake Wisteria—”

“What?” I must have heard her wrong.

“I told you it was small.”

“You’re moving back home?”

“I am.”

“Why?”

“I turned down the deal with Archer Media.”

I blink a few times. “Why?”

“It didn’t feel right.”

“But what about your show?”

She shrugs. “When the right contract comes along, I’ll know it.”

“No second-guessing?”

“Nope. I’ve never felt more certain about anything.”

I clamp my hands around her hips and drag her closer. “You don’t need to move back to Lake Wisteria, though. We could still live here—”

She wraps her arms around the back of my neck and tugs me closer. “I don’t want to live in San Francisco.”

“But—”

“Julian?”

“Yes?”

“Te amo también.” She rises on the tips of her toes and seals her mouth over mine.

A shiver rushes down my spine as she deepens the kiss. Our tongues fuse together, teasing each other until we’re both breathless.

She pulls away with a laugh. “What do you say about getting out of here?”

“Where do you want to go first?” I pull my keys from my back pocket.

“Our old stomping grounds.”

“You lead the way.” I motion toward the front door.

We step outside, and she pulls her keys out of her purse to lock up.

I hit the button on the fob, and the Ferrari beeps.

Dahlia’s eyes go wide. “Can I drive it?”

“Go ahead.” I toss the key fob in the air.

She nearly misses it before diving at the last second to grab it. “Seriously?”

I open the driver’s door for her. “Sure. It’s a rental.”