Love Redesigned (Lakefront Billionaires #1) by Lauren Asher

“That’s my problem.”

“I thought you were interested in getting married and starting a family?”

I hold my tongue.

She frowns. “Don’t tell me Rafa scared you away from marriage.”

“He didn’t.” Shocking, given his current view on life and all.

“I’d like you to have a child while I’m still young enough to chase after them.”

“About that…” While marriage is a part of my plan, having a kid is not—a fact that scared away half the women I dated.

Growing up with parents who struggled with years of infertility had a huge impact on me, and I don’t expect a lot of people to understand what it was like to watch my father silently suffer while my mom went through depression, miscarriages, and a stillbirth that had her flatlining on an operating table.

Since my mom nearly died in the process of giving me a sibling, I don’t plan on having children unless the woman I marry is willing to adopt.

My mom sucks in a breath. “Qué?”

I rub the back of my neck. “You know I’m not a kid person.”

“But what about Nico?” Her pitch rises.

“An exception to the rule.”

“Is this because of what I—”

“No.”

Her glassy gaze passes over my face before she looks away. “Okay. I’ll respect your wishes.”

A heavy weight pressing against my chest lifts.

She gnaws on her bottom lip. “I’ll agree to your request, but you need to promise me one thing.”

“What?”

“Please make this process enjoyable for Dahlia. You might not be interested in making me a mother-in-law anytime soon, but Dahlia—and Lily too—are the closest people I have to daughters, and I won’t stand for you upsetting her when she is already down.”

My mom manages to make me feel two inches tall despite me towering over her.

I tuck my chin in shame. “I won’t.”

She brings her hands together with a loud clap. “Great! Now, be sure to make it seem like this was all your big idea when you approach Dahlia about it.”

“Ma.”

“I better go check on Rosa before she burns down the house. ¡Te quiero!” She kisses my cheek before dashing toward the kitchen.

Te quiero: I love you.





Sundays at the Muñoz house haven’t changed since I was born, although a few people have come and gone over the years, like Mr. Muñoz and my dad, who both passed away within a few years of each other. Rafa became a permanent member at the table after he was unofficially adopted by my mom when we were younger, once my dad’s brother died.

My godson does a good job of keeping the conversation going with stories about his upcoming Halloween costume and his friend’s birthday. Lily, Dahlia’s twenty-seven-year-old sister, follows along with Nico’s tales, while the rest of us easily become distracted by the empty chair and plate of untouched food beside me.

At one point, Lily takes a tray to Dahlia’s room, only to come back fifteen minutes later with most of it left behind.

“She wasn’t hungry?” Rosa stands and takes the tray from Lily’s hands.

Lily shakes her head. “She ate some of it.”

Everyone stares at the leftovers like a critical piece of evidence. Dahlia grew up like the rest of us, following three main rules: don’t lie, don’t cheat, and don’t leave any food on your plate.

Ma kicks my chair. Go talk to her, she mouths.

I rise from my chair. “I’ll be back.”

The wrinkles etched into Rosa’s face smooth out as I comb through my mental list of pros and cons.

Pro: You’re doing the right thing.

Con: It doesn’t exactly feel that way.

The quick shake of Rafa’s head and his fierce scowl has me questioning myself.

Pro: Your mom will no longer set you up on dates.

Con: You’ll be stuck working with Dahlia.

I tell myself to shut up and take a deep breath.

Thank you, Ma says by lifting her two thumbs in the air.

Before I lose my nerve, I walk away. The sound of my heart pounding fills my ears as I stop in front of Dahlia’s door. I lift my fist to knock, only to hover above a hand-painted flower.

To describe Dahlia as talented would be insulting. She has a God-given gift to turn the most mundane objects into works of art, although I never stepped out of my comfort zone and praised her for it.

Once I lift my fist to knock, her door flies open.

“Julian?” Dahlia gapes at me with puffy eyes and a red nose.

I tuck my clenched hands into my pockets. “Hey.”

“Is there a reason you’re lurking around outside my room?” She checks the empty hall.

“I need to talk to you.”

She squints. “Since when do you willingly want to speak?”

“Since my mother asked me to.”

Her hollow laugh is chilling. “Still doing everything your mom asks? No wonder you’re still single.”

“I knew coming over here was a mistake,” I grumble to myself. Dahlia will never agree to the idea of working on a project together if I come out and ask her.

My trap forms quicker than my mouth can move.

“Feel free to get lost.” She reaches for the door.