Page 63 of If You Give a Billionaire a Bride

“Cash doesn’t know you as well as he wants to,” August says with a sly grin.

“Shouldn’t you be getting back to work? That proposal isn’t going to finish itself,” I quip.

“Yeah, I’ll go, but I’m reserving the right to tell you I told you so when you’re head over heels for Cash.”

I think I’m already halfway there.

“Leave her be,” Liam chimes in. “Oh, I almost forgot. Everly. There’s a giant bouquet of flowers at the reception desk for you,” he says.

I have a sneaking suspicion I know who they’re from, and it’s not Cash.

As I climb the last flight of stairs to the penthouse, I’m exhausted. The rest of my day at the office went by in a blur, helping Liam and August prepare the Thames Park Towers proposal.

When I enter the kitchen, I see Cash placing a perfectly assembled margarita pizza into the oven. My mouth waters. He spoils me with his home-cooked meals, and there’s a good chance I’ll starve when it’s time for me to leave.

A pang of sadness passes through me when I consider the prospect of moving out of the High Rise and no longer sharing my evenings with Cash.

“Woah, those are nice flowers.” He gives a low whistle, nodding to the giant bouquet in my hands. “Who are they from?” His tone carries a hint of jealousy.

I place the vase on the counter, stretching my arms out after carrying them all the way home and up several flights of stairs.

“Can you take these to your office tomorrow? I want Carol to have them,” I say, sidestepping his question.

“I’m sure she’d appreciate the gesture, but wouldn’t you rather keep them?” He gives the gaudy arrangement another critical once-over.

“No. I hate roses,” I mutter glaring at the offending arrangement.

I was furious when the local flower shop dropped them off with a message from Landon that saidMiss you.It was oddly satisfying to tear the note to shreds.

The bouquet seemed to mock me throughout the afternoon, but I resisted the urge to toss it out. I knew Carol would be delighted to keep the flowers at her desk for some added cheer, given that Cash’s office is so drab.

“Sounds like whoever gave you those doesn’t know you very well.” Cash’s gaze bores into mine. “Do you want to talk about it?”

I wring my hands together as I look at the ground. “I’m not sure,” I answer honestly.

I’ve avoided the subject of Landon until now, unsure how Cash would react. Given his reaction to my dad’s unannounced visit and how he cornered me, I doubt he’ll take it well.

He checks his watch. “We have sixteen minutes until the pizza is done. Why don’t you sit down and you cannottell me about it?”

“I won’t say no to sitting down. My feet have been aching all day.”

He leads me to the loveseat in the living room, and I sink down into it, leaning against the armrest. I’m perplexed when Cash slides to the other side and lifts one of my nylon-clad feet into his lap.

“What are you doing?” I squeal, attempting to pull away. “My feet are sweaty and gross.”

“Ev, please relax,” he says, not loosening his grip. “Let me take care of you.” He pauses, waiting for my permission.

“Okay,” I murmur. “But just for a few minutes.”

“Whatever you say, pretty girl.” He smiles.

A blush creeps up my cheeks at his compliment. His smile is dangerously captivating, the perfect blend of charm and mischief, making my heart race. And I wish he would stop looking at me as if he plans to keep me forever when this arrangement is only temporary.

I’m sidetracked when he presses his thumbs into the sole of my foot.

“Oh my god,” I breathe out, my eyes falling shut.

“That good, huh?” His voice is raspy.

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