Page 120 of If You Give a Billionaire a Bride

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EVERLY

“WHERE ARE WE GOING?” Iask Cash, my curiosity getting the better of me.

“It’s a surprise, remember?” Fortunately, I convinced Johanna that I couldn’t leave the house in Cash’s T-shirt and sweats, so I managed to get changed. I’m wearing a white summer dress and light blue open-toed heels.

Even though it didn’t happen the way I wanted, it’s a relief that Cash’s parents and Theo know everything. It feels like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders, and it means so much to have their support as Cash and I move forward in this next chapter.

Cash drives to the outskirts of town, and my heart skips a beat when he pulls up to the old Miller property. Aside from the location, it’s unrecognizable. A pang of sadness hits me whenI realize someone must have bought the place and fixed it up, wishing it could have been me.

The previously overgrown yard, littered with debris, has undergone a remarkable transformation. Now, there’s a neatly trimmed lawn and vibrant flower beds.

The house is painted white, with a black door and shutters, and the wraparound porch has been reconstructed with wooden beams and stained a rich mahogany. I’m speechless when I spot the white porch swing on the side of the house, just like I described to Cash.

“What are we doing here?” I gesture toward the house.

“Why don’t we go inside and find out?”

Cash steps out of the car and walks around to my side. He opens the door and extends his hand to help me out. I let him lead me to the house, trembling with a mixture of nerves and excitement.

When he opens the front door, I gasp. The interior looks like it was lifted straight from the pages ofArchitectural Digest, with the perfect blend of farmhouse charm and modern elegance. The walls are freshly painted a light gray with white trim, complimenting the rustic wooden beams stretch across the ceiling.

The open-concept living room flows seamlessly into the kitchen, which has marble countertops and stainless-steel appliances. A sliding barn door opens into a pantry, and a farmhouse table in the corner, with a vase of daffodils in the middle. This place is better than anything I could have ever dreamed of.

“Why don’t you go check out the upstairs?” Cash suggests.

“Okay.” I smile, not waiting another second to explore the rest of the house.

The primary bedroom has hardwood flooring, walls painted robin blue, and crown molding on the ceiling. The en-suite hasmarble floors and a large soaking tub. There are twin vanity sinks with granite countertops. And the spacious walk-in closet has ample storage, including a full wall for shoes.

In addition to the primary suite, there are two more bedrooms with a Jack and Jill bathroom in between.

At the end of the hall, there is a small set of stairs leading to the loft. The door is ajar, and I gasp when I peek inside. It’s been transformed into a cozy reading room, with built-in bookshelves lining the walls and a floor-to-ceiling window letting in natural light. Dozens of vases filled with daffodils decorate the room’s perimeter.

I twirl around, taking it all in before looking through the window into the backyard. The grass is freshly cut, and a tire swing now hangs from the old oak tree at the edge of the property.

My attention is drawn to the two rows of vases, brimming with daffodils, that create a pathway leading to the center of the yard where Cash stands, in the same spot we made our marriage pact fourteen years ago. He looks up with a grin and motions for me to join him.

I hurry down the two flights of stairs as best I can in four-inch heels and exit through the back door of the kitchen. As I step outside, I can’t help but feel a flutter of anticipation in my chest. The way he’s looking at me with that familiar sparkle in his eyes, makes my heart race.

“What did you think of the rest of the house?” he asks when I reach his side.

“It’s incredible. How did you manage to get it done while you’ve been in London?”

“I hired a contractor to expedite the remodel, and he had a large crew working on the place around the clock,” he says.

“By chance did Harrison help you paint yesterday morning?”

“Yeah, he did.” He smiles wryly. “The painter had a family emergency and couldn’t finish the living room. We couldn’t find a replacement in time, so my family stepped in to assist the crew.”

Now it makes sense why Harrison was covered in paint when I ran into him and why he didn’t offer an explanation.

“How long has this project been underway?”

“Since the day we got back to London,” he admits.

I furrow my brow in confusion. “I don’t understand.”

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