Final Offer: Chapter 30
Final Offer (Dreamland Billionaires, 3)
Fix a house, Iris said.
Itâll be fun, she said.
What a load of bullshit.
With the asbestos team hard at work on the main house, Lana and I are forced to make some tough decisions about the remodel.
She pushes aside the fifth cabinet sample. It slides across the coffee table, straight into the other samples she rejected. âNo.â
âWhat do you mean no?â My right eye twitches.
Lana and I have been at this since she dropped Cami off at her summer camp two hours ago, and we havenât made much progress. The only thing we have agreed upon is the new shape of the pool.
At this rate, itâs going to take us three years to pick out everything that needs to go into the house. As it is, Ryder is already pressuring me about ordering the supplies if we want to make our deadline.
There is no want. I need the property to be listed by the end of August if I plan on meeting my grandfatherâs deadline.
âIt looks cheap.â Her forehead creases.
âHow is that even possible? Each cabinet costs over a thousand dollars.â
Her eyes widen. âFor one cabinet? But we need likeâ¦â
âJust ignore what I said.â The last thing I want to do today is argue about money too.
She stares at the cabinet a little longer. âNope. Still hate it, hefty price tag and all.â
âWhat do you like?â
âI donât know.â She makes the cutest exasperated sigh as she looks up to the ceiling.
Maybe our issue isnât that the options are bad, but rather Lana doesnât know what she wants.
âLet me grab my laptop. I think I have an idea.â
I return to the living room with my laptop open and Pinterest already pulled up. Instead of sitting across from Lana, I take a seat next to her and place the laptop over my thighs so she can see the screen.
The heat coming off her body seeps through my skin. Iâm tempted to brush my arm against hers and be rewarded with a gasp, but I hold back.
Business first.
Her brow arches. âPinterest? Really?â
âIris swears by it after planning most of her wedding and honeymoon with it.â
She laughs. âOf course. I wish I thought of it first. I like to pin new ideas for teaching, but I didnât think about it for the house.â
âLook at me being useful for once.â My laugh comes out half-hearted.
She nudges me with her thigh. âYou can be useful.â
âHow? Because I opened a jar of spaghetti sauce for you last night?â
âThe lid was stuck pretty tight. Iâm not sure I would have gotten it off without you.â
I roll my eyes. âIâm glad my lifeâs purpose has been narrowed down to domestic tasks and arm muscle.â
âWell, you did always joke around about wanting to be a stay-at-home dad. Maybe itâs your calling after all.â
âDonât tempt me. You know how I feel about corporate life.â
Her head tilts. âYou know there are other jobs out there besides a basic nine-to-five desk job.â
âIâm aware.â Doesnât mean Iâve found one that works for me. Itâs not like I need a job, but my brothers make it seem like thatâs the point of life. Or at least they did until they found something nicer.
Love.
âHave you done anything since hockey?â
My shoulders turn to stone. âDoes stepping in as Declanâs assistant count?â
Her mouth drops open. âYou were Declanâs assistant?â
âDonât look so surprised.â I flick her nose, earning a breathy chuckle that makes my heart pathetically swell.
âIâm surprised you lived to tell the tale.â
âHe wasnât that bad. Iris was the one who had to put up with him for three years.â
Her lips part. âIris worked for him?â
âYup.â
âAnd she still fell in love with him? Wow.â
Wow is right. If it werenât for my grandfatherâs will and his marriage-of-convenience clause, Iâm not sure the two of them would have ever gotten together in the first place.
âDeclan is lucky because Iris is one hell of a woman.â
Her face softens. âYou really care about her.â
âSheâs always been there for me when I needed someone.â I break eye contact and focus on my laptop screen.
Lana reaches out and squeezes my hand. âShe sounds like a great friend. Iâm glad you found someone who could be that for you.â
I nod as I swallow the thick lump in my throat. âI love her like the sister I never had, but she was never you. What she and I had was always different.â
âYou never tried toâ¦â Her voice drifts off as the question dies on the tip of her tongue.
âWe kissed once, but that was all.â I clasp her palm and tuck it against my thigh.
âIf your friendship is anything like ours, then Iâm questioning it.â The muscles in her back remain wound tight despite the playfulness of her words.
âNothing has ever compared to us, and nothing ever will.â I lift her hand to my mouth and press my lips against the faded scar on her knuckle. Itâs small but a constant reminder of her getting hurt after I stupidly dared her to climb a chain-link fence.
She releases a shaky breath. âYou need to stop talking and doing things like that.â
âWhy?â
âBecause this isnât the past.â She attempts to tug her hand free of my grasp, but my hold is too strong.
âGood, because Iâd much rather focus on our future.â I pry her fingers apart before kissing the soft flesh of her palm, earning the softest inhale from her.
âWe donât have a future.â
âNot yet, but give me some time to prove you wrong.â A pink flush blooms across her cheeks, so I trace it with the pad of my thumb. âI donât expect you to believe me, but Iâm just warning you.â
âWarning me about what?â
âI walked away from you before because I thought I was doing the right thing. That you were better off without me. That you would be happier. I donât plan on making that same mistake again, even if you expect me to. While I might mess upâhell, I can practically guarantee itâIâm not going to run away again. Iâll fight for us no matter what.â I release her hand, although there is nothing I want more than to never let go.
Tension between us grows as I refocus on the laptop screen in front of us. Lana loses herself in her thoughts for a few minutes before resuming as if our conversation didnât happen.
Maybe itâs for the best. Speaking about my intentions doesnât matter when I have years of mistakes and mistrust to overcome.
But that starts today.
Lana and I spend the rest of the afternoon searching Pinterest for different ideas. She points out everything she likes, and together we quickly create a few different boards for each of the rooms in the house. It doesnât take us long to determine Lana hates futuristic modern ideas almost as much as I dislike mid-century style. Together, we decide the best option is to go with a transitional modern style.
âI think Iâm in love.â Lana sighs to herself as she scrolls through the board we made for the bathroom one last time.
âI shared the links with Ryder so he can get to work finding something that matches our vision.â
âIâm jealous of whomever gets to buy the place. Itâs like everything I ever wanted all in one house.â
My chest aches at the look of pure longing on her face.
âYou can always recreate it.â
She snorts. âWith what money? The only reason weâre even doing this is because of you.â
I bite down on my tongue to stop myself from saying anything.
With a sigh, she shuts my laptop. âI better go pick up Cami from summer camp.â
âDo you care if I join you?â
Her brows jump. âYou want to come?â
âSure. Itâs not like I have much else to do.â I motion toward the empty house.
âI need to pass by the grocery store on the way home though.â
âOkay?â Is that supposed to discourage me or something?
Her eyes flicker over me. âYouâre serious.â
I roll my eyes as I stand. âDo you want to drive my car or yours?â
Her mouth pops open.
âWhat?â
She shakes her head. âNothing. Letâs take mine.â
âWhatâs wrong with my car?â
âBesides the fact that it isnât ideal or probably safe for a kid?â She stands as tall as she can, with the top of her head barely reaching my chin.
âYou didnât have a problem with it when you needed a ride to the school.â
âBecause I was desperate and didnât want to miss Camiâs graduation.â Her lips thin.
âYouâre going to drive?â
âOf course. Itâs the twenty-first century. Women can drive men around now.â
God help us all.
She spends the short drive to Camiâs summer camp laughing at the expletives that pour out of my mouth. Whatever small bit of restraint she showed while driving my car is gone.
A few people removing the leftover Fourth of July decorations from Main Street wave at her, and she honks before turning the wheel.
My grip on the safety bar slips as she makes a sharp left turn. âNo wonder your tires were balding. You drive like youâre being chased by the cops.â
She laughs herself hoarse. Iâm hopeless as I watch in complete fascination, my chest swelling with emotion at the sight of her happiness.
This was all I wanted for her. I just never thought I could be the one to make it happen with all the other stuff bogging me down, getting in the way of our chance at a happy ending.
But the only thing getting in the way was me. Not my addiction. Not my career.
Me.
Because at the end of the day, Iâm the one who makes the final decisions over my life.
I chose wrong when I left her the last time. She was supposed to be better off without me, but her obvious loneliness has proved the exact opposite.
Lana was survivingânot thrivingâand I have only myself to blame.
And I donât plan on making the same mistake again.