Love Redesigned (Lakefront Billionaires #1) by Lauren Asher

He blushes.

“Expressing our feelings has never been our strong suit, but I mean it. You’re the best son, brother, godfather, and businessman I know.”

“I’m the best godparent, but we can agree to disagree.”

I laugh, and his dark gaze traces the curve of my face.

“Asking for help doesn’t make you a burden or less than.” I swipe some of the burn cream over his red skin. “So stop telling yourself that.”

His body ripples with tension until I finish treating his burn.

“There.” I give his wrist a squeeze before taking a step back.

He latches on to mine and holds me in place. “Thank you.”

“Thank me by channeling your inner Picasso during Pictionary.”

He laughs. “Deal.”



Turns out losing with Julian is far better than winning against him.

And I can’t wait to do it again next week.





CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE


Dahlia


“I want to take you somewhere.” Julian tugs on my hand.

“Now?” I check the empty living room. Josefina, Rafa, and Nico headed out ten minutes ago to see a movie together, while Lily and my mom are busy finding a way to fit all the Thanksgiving leftovers in the fridge.

“Yes.”

I must not answer fast enough because he rushes to say, “I have a surprise.”

“What kind of surprise?”

“Telling you would defeat calling it one.” He leads me toward the front door, but before he opens it, he grabs my winter coat off the rack and helps me into it.

It’s the smallest gestures that send my heart into overdrive, like the way he wraps a scarf around my neck and fixes my hair without me asking.

He’s perfect.

Which makes him that much more dangerous. The more he takes care of me, the less confident I feel about our arrangement.

I peek into the empty living room. “But my mom—”

“Has plans to spend the rest of the night catching up on a telenovela with your sister.”

“If you’re trying to convince me to leave, you’re doing a terrible job.”

“It’ll be worth the sacrifice. I swear.”

“That’s a big promise.”

His smile says he plans on delivering.



“Tonight was…nice,” I say after the first song finishes playing.

Julian turns down the volume. “I thought so, although your turkey was a little dry.”

I slap his shoulder. “Jerk! You’re the one who told me to keep it in the oven longer.”

“I only said that so you had to keep bending over to check on it.”

I laugh until my lungs hurt.

“I like it when you laugh like that,” he says in that quiet, shy voice of his.

A rush of warmth flows through my body, spreading all the way to my toes.

“But I like it even more knowing I’m the reason behind it.”

Forget a rush of warmth. Julian’s words are like an inferno, obliterating whatever ice I had left to protect my heart.

I become fascinated by the window. “When you say things like that…”

“What?” he asks after a few moments of silence.

“It makes me feel things I shouldn’t.”

“According to whom?” His question comes out sharper than a blade directed at my chest.

“Me.”

“Because you’re afraid?”

“Because I’m a mess.”

He focuses on the road, giving me a side view of his jaw clenching. “You’re many things, but a mess isn’t one of them.”

My eyes drop to my lap. “I’ve only just started feeling like myself again.” After fighting my way out of a mental fog, I don’t want to sink back into that black hole.

Julian stays quiet, which emboldens me.

“I’ve been taking the right steps to get better. Therapy. Antidepressants. Exploring who I am post-breakup while forgiving the person I was before it.”

His grip on the steering wheel tightens. “And how is that going?”

“I’m finally happy.” I take a deep breath. “So freaking happy but also terrified that the feeling might disappear again, and then I’ll be sucked back into that dark place.”

“It could happen. You could slip back into another depression, and that isn’t something you can control.”

“I know.” I fidget with my hands.

He reaches over and interlocks our fingers. “But that doesn’t mean you have to go through that kind of feeling by yourself anymore.” His hand squeezes mine.

“I’m afraid to depend on people.”

“Your issue isn’t depending on people but rather finding the right people to depend on.”

It takes me a good minute to wrap my head around that one. “Did everyone see what I was clearly missing?”

“No, although I wish I had.” His hold on my hand loosens, so I tighten my grip to stop him from slipping away.

“You wouldn’t have known regardless.” Keeping up false pretenses was a craft I honed over the years, making sure no one could see through the mask I held in place to shield my anxiety, insecurities, and relationship issues.

“Maybe, maybe not. But I regret not owning up to my actions and trying to reconnect with you.”