Page 136 of Billion Dollar Revenge

It’s a lot. A lot more than I dreamed of.

Move back here? And he’s willing to do it with me.

“I have a great team,” I say, sitting back and staring out the windshield.

“You do. But listen.” He grabs my hand, and I twist around to face him.

“Nothing is happening fast. You set the pace.”

“It might take a while to find a house,” I murmur.

The words feel strange leaving my mouth. But I don’t hate it. It’s just unexpected.

“Let’s go inside. I want a tour.”

I giggle, exit the car, and move to the trunk.

His tan-colored coat and blue jeans with matching tan boots make him stand out in the best way. The wind blows his wavy hair onto his forehead, and I can’t help but push it back. Refocusing on the task, he grabs all the luggage and heads to the door.

“You’ve lived here your whole life?”

“Yep.”

The door opens, and Mom, Dad, and Anna stand there with large smiles on their faces. Their eyes automatically go to Evan.

And when they move to mine, the same gleam is reflected in their eyes. As if I didn’t already know, now I’m certain they approve of him.

I step forward and hug them each. They all say hi to Evan.

“Would you like tea, coffee, or a cold drink?” Mom asks.

My sister and Dad are already exiting to the living room.

“Let me take our luggage to the rooms and give him a tour of the house first.”

Mom smiles as she slips away.

I turn to Evan. He is wearing a humorous expression, but his wolfish grin knows exactly what he’s thinking.

I shake my head. “Not happening.” I walk off, and he follows behind, listening as I give him the tour.

We arrive at my childhood bedroom.

“Nice. You still have posters on the wall.”

He wanders through my room with interest. Coming to the side table, he picks up the frame sitting on it. It’s a family photo of me on my twenty-first birthday.

“Mom won’t take anything down without me. But when I come home, I love this.”

“I love seeing the young Chelsea.”

“I’ll show you around this week. You can meet some of my childhood friends.”

“You don't talk about them much.”

I sigh, feeling the heaviness of that knowledge weighing me down. “I know. I don’t see them much. Most are married with children.”

“You moved away. I get it.”

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