Page 13 of If You Give a Billionaire a Bride

“Never.” He gazes at me, and up close I can see the golden flecks in his hazel eyes. “I liked the idea that in an alternate reality you’d be mine.” I feel lightheaded when he caresses my cheek with the back of his hand, his knuckles rubbing against my jaw.

The sober me would tell him he’s full of shit and remind him that a woman can’t be owned. Too bad the tipsy me is relishing the fact that Cash Stafford just confessed in a roundabout way that he kept the marriage pact we made in high school because he likes me… or at least he did.

“I have an important question to ask you,” he says.

“Which is?” I ask, my curiosity piqued.

He leans in closer, like he has a secret to share, and trails his fingers along my arm, sending a course of electricity through me at the touch. “Please tell me you’re single,” he murmurs.

“That’s not a question,” I quip playfully.

“I can’t ask you to marry me if you’re with someone else,” he says with a mischievous, boyish grin.

An uncharacteristic giggle escapes my lips. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.”

“It makes perfect sense.” He removes his arm from around my shoulder and clasps my hands in his. “We’re both single, in our thirties, and there’s a chapel right down the street. Marry me, Ev.”

I stare at him, trying to process his words. “We haven’t seen each other in fourteen years,” I remind him.

Thanks to the alcohol, it’s like my brain is on a coffee break, leaving me unable to come up with a better retort.

“So?” Cash murmurs. “They say absence makes the heart grow fonder, don’t they? Some connections can’t be ignored, no matter how long you’ve been apart.”

I knit my eyebrows in confusion. “What are you saying?”

“Marry me,” he repeats, sidestepping my question. “Our pact still means something to me, just like this bracelet does,” he says, nodding to his wrist. “Youmean something to me.” Cash cradles my face, sending a shiver down my spine. “Haven’t you heard the best things in life are worth waiting for? Now that you’re finally here with me, I don’t ever want to let you go.”

I briefly close my eyes, wishing he’d stop saying all the right things.

After being engaged to a cheater with average looks, tying the knot with Cash would be a major upgrade. He’s devastatingly handsome and charismatic. Not to mention I’ve known him since we were kids.

“You’re serious about this?”

He nods his head. “I promise I’ll make you happy. You just have to give me a chance to prove it, Ev.” My heart skips a beat when he presses a kiss to my forehead. “Make me the luckiest man alive, and agree to be my wife.”

Nibbling on my lower lip, I feel the weight of his gaze.

Maybe this isn’t such a terrible idea after all. He has worn my bracelet for all these years and admitted that our silly marriage pact meant something to him. Plus, he punched Jacob Barlow in the face when he stood me up at our senior prom. That’s true loyalty.

Wait. Am I really considering this?

Warning bells ring loudly in the back of my mind, reminding me those aren’t valid reasons to marry someone, but one too many shots of tequila have drowned out my logical thinking.

“When was the last time you did something just because you wanted to? Be brave, Ev, and take this leap with me,” Cash urges.

“Stafford, are you daring me to marry you?”

“Maybe,” he murmurs. “Is it working?”

“Yes,” I say, a grin spreading across my face, reflecting his contagious excitement. “I think it is.”

4

CASH

I GROAN WHEN I OPENmy eyes to the sun streaming through the window.

My head is pounding with a splitting headache from drinking too much whiskey last night. I used to party until dawn, catch a few hours of sleep, and wake up feeling good as new. Now, anytime I have a few drinks, it feels like I’ve been hit by a dump truck, the effects lingering for hours.

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