Page 50 of If You Give a Billionaire a Bride

“Everly asked me not to,” I say, recalling the urgency in her expression when we talked about it at Brew Haven.

Dylan lets out a low whistle. “She already has you wrapped around her finger, and you’ve been married less than a week.” He gives me a smug smile as he leans back in his chair. “I’m not surprised, seeing as you’ve had a secret crush on her since high school.”

“I have not,” I lie. My ears grow warm with embarrassment, and I’m grateful my hair hides them.

“Oh really,” Dylan says. “So, getting suspended for punching Jacob Barlow in the face when he dumped Everly was just for kicks?” He raises a skeptical eyebrow. “What about hanging out with her while all your friends were at prom because you didn’t want her to be alone? Does that sound like something a friend would do, Harrison?”

“Personally, I wouldn’t do that for just anyone,” Harrison says with a smirk.

Even he’s finding this amusing. I should’ve expected my brothers wouldn’t let me off easy. Typically, I’m the one teasing them, and I’m not a fan of our roles being switched.

“That was fourteen years ago,” I grumble.

“Yeah, and you’re still pining for her,” Dylan says.

I roll my eyes. “So what if I am?” I say coolly.

“There’s nothing wrong with liking Everly. She’s incredibly intelligent, funny and beautiful,” Dylan says, listing off her positive attributes on his fingers.

I arch a playful brow. “Watch it,” I warn.

He’s teasing, but that doesn’t stop the unfamiliar wave of jealousy from coursing through my veins, even though I know Dylan has found his happy ending with Marlow.

“Easy.” He holds up his hands with a cheeky grin. “I was just offering her a compliment. You damn well know I only have eyes for Marlow—”

Dylan’s office door swings open, and Lola rushes inside, all out of breath. She’s decked out in a bright pink shirt and rainbow tutu, and her hair is styled in fishtail braids with sparkly bows tied to the ends.

“Daddy, you have to help me,” she exclaims, leaping into his arms.

“Ladybug, I’m on a call with your uncles. Can it wait?” Dylan asks firmly.

“Hi, Uncle Harrison, Hi, Uncle Cash.” She ignores him as she waves to the camera.

“Hey there, Ladybug. You’re looking extra cute today,” I say. “I love your braids.”

“Thanks. Marlow did them.” She affectionately runs her hands down her hair, preening for the camera.

“I figured,” I smirk at Dylan, who’s glaring at me.

He’s never been able to master the fishtail braid, and we all like to give him a hard time about it. It’s one of the many reasons Marlow is his perfect match.

“Ladybug, what can I help you with?” Dylan cuts in.

“Waffles and the puppies got into the pink finger paint again.” She points to the hallway, where I can hear the dogs barking.

That’s when I notice her palms are covered in bright pink paint, now smeared on the front of Dylan’s shirt. I cover my mouth to stifle a laugh.

“Shit,” Dylan mumbles under his breath. “Sorry, guys, I have to go.” He lifts Lola, setting her on the ground, and rises from his chair. “I convinced Marlow to meet her friends for breakfast at Brew Haven, so it’s just me at home with Lola and the dogs.” He bends over so we can see his face on the screen.

“No problem. We’ll catch up with you later,” Harrison assures him.

“Thanks.” Dylan drops off the conference call, leaving me to face Harrison’s inscrutable expression alone.

We haven’t had a one-on-one conversation since before my Vegas trip, and I’m dreading the lecture that I know is coming. I squirm in my chair, hoping he’ll suggest rescheduling the meeting. After a minute goes by, I can’t take it anymore.

“Can you please get on with it,” I blurt.

Harrison tilts his head slightly. “Get on with what, exactly?”

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