Page 61 of “Not” Engaged to the Grumpy Billionaire

When Nate pulls up in front of the house, I hesitate before getting out.

“Thank you,” I say softly, turning to look at him. “For the morning. For everything.”

He nods, his gaze steady. “Anytime.”

The way he says it, so sure and so sincere, makes my heart twist in ways I’m still not ready to admit.

***

It’s a lazy Sunday afternoon. The park is buzzing with life, children’s laughter mingling with the rustling of leaves in the breeze. Max and Boomer are already sprinting ahead, their energy seemingly endless. Nate and I follow at a slower pace, the afternoon sun casting dappled shadows through the trees.

“Do you think Boomer will ever tire him out?” I ask, watching Max throw a stick for Boomer, who bounds after it enthusiastically.

Nate chuckles. “Boomer is just as stubborn as Max. It’ll be a while.”

We settle onto a grassy patch near a small clearing where families are scattered with picnic blankets and strollers. Nate stretches out beside me, leaning back on his elbows, looking perfectly at ease. It’s a look that’s becoming dangerously familiar—and addictive.

After a playful chase through the playground, where Max insists on showing me his “super-fast slides” and “super-high jumps,” he decides we deserve a treat. His eyes light up as he points to the ever nearby ice cream cart.

“Can we get some?” he asks, practically bouncing on his toes.

I glance at Nate, smirking. “He’s asking you this time.”

Nate shrugs, standing. “How can I say no?”

Max cheers, grabbing my hand to drag me along. At the cart, he insists on picking the flavors again. When he hands me a cone, I can’t help but laugh.

“Strawberry again?” I tease, taking a small bite. “Max, you’re really pushing this flavor.”

“It’s the best,” he says firmly, licking his own cone like it’s the truth of the universe.

Nate raises an eyebrow at me. “You heard him. Best flavor.”

I roll my eyes playfully but secretly enjoy every bite. The moment is simple and sweet, but it feels like the kind of memory I’ll carry with me forever.

The park is buzzing with life, the kind of afternoon energy that feels infectious. Max and Boomer are continuing to race across the grassy fields, both of them determined to outpace the other. Nate and I follow at a leisurely pace, the sunshine casting dappled patterns across the path.

It’s the kind of day that reminds me of being a kid, carefree and full of endless possibilities. As we walk, something catches my eye—a vendor setting up near the edge of the field.

The man’s cart is small, but it’s loaded with colorful kites fluttering in the breeze, their vibrant patterns drawing attention from curious children and nostalgic adults alike. I can’t help but slow my steps, my gaze lingering.

I remember summers in Ocean Bay when I was little, my dad teaching Bryan and me how to fly kites. Those days felt magical, like nothing in the world could ever go wrong.

“Thinking about getting one?” Nate’s voice pulls me out of my thoughts.

I turn to find him watching me, his expression unreadable but his eyes warm.

“Oh, no,” I say quickly, shaking my head. “I was just… remembering something. From when I was a kid.”

“What kind of memory?” he asks, tilting his head slightly.

I hesitate, but the soft curiosity in his voice encourages me. “We used to fly kites here in the park when I was little. My dad taught us. It was one of those rare things we all did together as a family.”

Nate doesn’t say anything at first, but there’s a look in his eyes, like he’s filing the information away for later.

“I’ll be right back,” he says suddenly, pulling his phone from his pocket. “Need to take a quick call.”

I nod, watching as he steps away toward the parking lot. I shake off the lingering wistfulness and focus on Boomer and Max instead, both of whom are now engaged in a serious game of fetch.

---