Page 36 of If You Give a Billionaire a Bride

“How did the newspaper get wind of this? Only your family knows about our marriage.”

Cash chuckles.“That explains why my mom slept in this morning. She was probably up half the night sharing the news with all her friends.”

Sounds like something Johanna would do. She tends to overshare when she’s excited about something. Another pang of guilt strikes me as I consider how she’ll react to the truth that none of this is real.

“You’re lucky Theo doesn’t still live here, or you’d be in serious trouble,” I taunt.

“That’s not funny,” Cash mutters.

“It really is.” I laugh as I walk away.

The past twenty-four hours have been a whirlwind, and I can’t help but question how difficult things will be once Cash and I are thrown back into reality as roommates posing as newlyweds.

10

CASH

I WATCH AS EVERLY CLIMBSthe steps of my private jet, refusing my offer to help with her luggage.

Even though it’s Sunday, she’s dressed in business attire—flare-legged black slacks, an ivory tank top, and open-toed black stiletto heels. Because of the sweltering heat, she ditched her suit jacket in the car. Her hair, coiled into a low bun and secured with a multitude of bobby pins, tempts my imagination. I can’t resist picturing those silky black locks cascading down her back if I were to free them. I imagine sinking my fingers into her hair as I tenderly kiss her lips, and my mind runs wild, taking me back to our kiss at the wedding chapel in Vegas.

“Do you, Everly Townstead, take Cash Stafford to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better or worse, for richer or for poorer, insickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until death do you part?”

“I do.” Everly giggles as she gazes at me with those big, beautiful brown eyes.

“And do you, Cash Stafford, take Everly Townstead to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better or worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until death do you part?”

“Hell yes, I do.” I caress Everly’s cheek with my thumb. “I promise, Ev, I’ll make you laugh every day and spoil you endlessly.”

“By the power vested in me by the state of Nevada, I now pronounce you husband and wife.” The officiant glances at me. “You may kiss the bride.”

Fueled by the alcohol buzzing through my veins and not giving a damn that we have an audience, I trace Everly’s jawline with my thumb. She melts into my touch, and I take the opportunity to claim her as mine. I wrap my hand around her waist and dip her backward. She winds her arms around my neck to keep her balance.

My tongue dances along the seam of her lips in teasing strokes, and I groan with satisfaction when she opens her mouth to welcome me inside. Her invitation sends a coursing need flowing through my veins.

I’ve never felt this way from a kiss before—all-consuming, ravenous, passionate. It feels right having her secured in my arms as I fuck her mouth with my tongue. I’m never letting her go.

“Cash, are you coming?” I’m brought back to the present by Everly waving her hand in front of me. “Are you okay? You spaced out for a minute there.” A concerned expression crosses her face.

My gaze narrows in on her lips, the memory from our night in Vegas lingering in the back of my mind. “I’m great,” I say as I lock eyes with her, determined to win her over.

Her eyebrows knit together, forming a slight furrow. “If you say so,” she replies with a hint of doubt.

The last thing she wants to hear is that I was daydreaming about the kiss at our wedding ceremony. Or that I’ve been fantasizing about the one we shared at my parents’ house. Given that she’s as cuddly as a porcupine, the odds of me getting a third kiss are slim to none.

Everly spins away from me to climb the last few steps of the plane, and I take advantage of her being distracted to adjust the hard-on in my pants. The mere memory of having her lips on mine sends an electric pulse through my body. She evokes a primal response from me like I’ve never felt before, and I’m struggling to rein it in.

The flight attendant stands inside the plane’s entrance and greets us with glasses of champagne. “Welcome,” she says to Everly. She flashes me a broad smile and brushes her hand against my arm as I pass by. “It’s good to see you again, Cash.”

“Thanks, Lily,” I say, focusing my attention ahead as I pass past her into the cabin.

Unsurprisingly, Everly and I both pass on the champagne.

The jet’s interior is furnished with eight leather seats to the left, two long couches to the right, and a large flat-screen TV built into the far wall. The cabin is relatively compact, making space for the bedroom at the rear of the plane.

Everly moves to the row in the back, and I follow, taking the seat next to hers.

“There are plenty of other places to sit. Why don’t you take one of those?” she suggests, giving me a pointed look.

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