Page 68 of “Not” Engaged to the Grumpy Billionaire

“Sorry,” I say, smirking. “I just couldn’t stay away from the smell of cookies.”

She rolls her eyes, turning back to the dough. “What do you want, Nate?”

“Just checking in,” I say, moving closer. I step behind her, resting my hands lightly on her hips. “You’re working too hard.”

“This isn’t work,” she says, her tone teasing. “It’s called multitasking. Something you could learn.”

I chuckle, my breath brushing against her ear. “I think I’ve got a handle on multitasking.”

Her cheeks flush, and she turns slightly to look at me. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“Part of my charm,” I reply, my hands lingering on her waist for a moment longer before I step back.

Max runs into the kitchen then, holding up a piece of paper. “Look what I made!”

Liz crouches down to his level, taking the drawing from him. Her smile softens as she studies it.

“It’s us,” Max says proudly. “Me, you, Dad, and Boomer.”

Liz glances at me, her eyes shining. “It’s perfect, Max.”

“Can we hang it up?” he asks eagerly.

“Of course,” I say, ruffling his hair. “We’ll put it on the fridge.”

As Max runs off to grab a magnet, Liz looks at me again, her expression unreadable. “He’s such a sweet kid.”

“Yeah,” I say quietly. “He likes you. A lot.”

Her smile wavers slightly, and I wonder what’s going through her head.

After hanging up Max’s drawing, Liz suggests watching a movie. Max immediately votes for an animated film, and before long we’re all sprawled on the couch. Max takes the middle seat, holding a bowl of popcorn, while Boomer curls up at our feet.

Halfway through, Max falls asleep, his head resting against Liz’s arm. She looks down at him, smiling softly as she strokes his hair.

“You’re so good with him,” I say quietly, my voice barely above a whisper.

She glances at me, her expression thoughtful. “He’s easy to love.”

The words hit me harder than I expect, and I nod, unable to look away from her.

The rest of the movie passes in comfortable silence, the kind that feels like home. And for the first time in years, I think maybe I’ve found it again.

***

The shrill ring of my phone drags me from the edges of sleep. My first instinct is to ignore it - it’s the middle of the night, and whoever’s calling can probably wait. But the phone keeps ringing, insistently, and I groan, reaching for it.

“Hello?” My voice is thick with sleep, but there’s an edge of irritation.

“Nate Kingston?” a formal voice on the other end asks.

“Yes,” I reply, sitting up in bed, the tone of the caller snapping me to attention.

“This is Dr. Michaels from Ocean Bay General. We have a Becky Kingston here. She’s been involved in a hit-and-run accident.”

I sit up straighter, the words jolting me awake completely. Becky. “Is she okay?”

“She’s stable, but she was brought in unconscious earlier tonight. She regained consciousness about an hour ago and is asking for you. It’s important you come down to the hospital.”

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