Love Redesigned (Lakefront Billionaires #1) by Lauren Asher

I swoop in and pick her up before she can argue her way out of this one.

She stays quiet as I walk us into the waiting room and set her down before heading to the nurses’ station. After a quick assessment, Dahlia is taken away for triage.

I spend the next twenty minutes on the phone with Dahlia’s mother, reassuring Rosa that Dahlia is safe and receiving medical attention. Rosa offers to drive over, but I recommend against it.

“We should be done soon.” At worst, Dahlia needs surgery, although I doubt her injury is anything a cast can’t fix.

“Thank God you were there to help her,” her mom says.

My fingers dig into my thighs. Thing is, I should have been there earlier so this never happened in the first place.

My phone buzzes repeatedly from our family group chat checking in on Dahlia. It hasn’t stopped since I told them about her hospital visit, although Dahlia has remained silent until now.

LILY

How’s it going?



S.S.

Never been better.



Dahlia attaches a photo of her broken arm that makes my stomach churn.

ROSA

Dahlia!



LILY

Add a content warning next time, freak.



She adds three green-faced emojis after.

MAMI

How are you texting right now?



S.S.

One-handed.



LILY

The talent.



S.S.

More like boredom.



RAFA

Nico wants to know if he can draw something on your cast this Sunday.



S.S.

Sure.



The night goes by painstakingly slow as I wait for Dahlia, giving me plenty of time to mull over my selfish decision to leave her all alone.

I told myself a hundred different times that I don’t care about Dahlia—that any romantic feelings I had toward her died long ago—yet here I am, making myself sick over how she got hurt because of me.

Truth is, I do care about Dahlia, regardless of whether I want to or not.

Caring about someone isn’t the end of the world, I tell myself.

Except Dahlia isn’t someone.

She is so much more.

The thought has me jumping out of my chair. Instead of sitting around and stewing in my thoughts, I end up raiding the vending machine and purchasing a few wraps from the cafeteria. I like being useful, and everything about today has me feeling the complete opposite.

After another hour, Dahlia walks out of the two doors with her left arm wrapped in a purple cast and a reminder card for an appointment booked four weeks from now.

Relief hits me instantly like a wrecking ball to the chest.

She’s okay.

Of course she’s okay, you dumbass. It’s a broken arm, not open-heart surgery.

“Hey.” She fidgets with a loose thread on her sling.

“Nice color.”

“It’s my favorite.”

I know. I grab the plastic bag off the floor and offer it to her.

“What’s that?” She stares at the offering like an armed bomb.

“Food.” My right eye twitching speaks louder than any words.

She sifts through the bag. “Why would you get me—Mini M&M’s!” The childish squeal that comes out of her makes my mission to find it totally worth it. “I haven’t had these in years.”

“Why not?” I can’t imagine her going a week without some, let alone years.

Her cheeks flush. “Filming diet and all that fun stuff.”

“That’s stupid.” Based on the weight she has lost, she could use all the M&M’s money can buy.

Her eyes roll. “I wouldn’t expect you to understand.” She attempts to rip at the plastic wrapper covering the tube. Despite her struggles, she refuses to ask me for any help, so I pluck the container from her hand.

“Give it back!” She tries to swipe it back with her good arm.

I hold it up above her head and tear the plastic off. To spite her for being difficult, I pop open the cap and pour some into my mouth before passing the container back.

She peers inside the tube. “You ate almost half of them!”

I reach inside the bag and pull out the second tube hidden beneath the turkey wrap and a bag of chips.

Her gasp of surprise feels like a victory. “You got me two? Why?”

“They were on sale.” The lie comes out easily.

“If you keep doing things like this, I might end up thinking you’re a nice guy or something.”

“We can’t have that.” I reach for the bag, only for her to sidestep me.

“Never mind. Your reputation as an asshole is alive and well.”

“And don’t you forget it.” I turn and head toward the exit while shielding my smile from the one woman who always finds a way to bring it out, whether she knows it or not.





CHAPTER SIXTEEN


Julian


I park my truck beside Rafa’s beat-up one and hop out. Unlike me, my cousin doesn’t live on the lake. Instead, after his divorce, he chose to purchase land at the top of the farthest hill away from town, where he could have a fresh start away from any prying eyes.

My mom used to say people do weird things once they make a lot of money, and I never understood what she meant until Rafa started fostering unwanted farm animals and being one with the land after Hillary left.