Page 60 of If You Give a Billionaire a Bride

“Ev, I’m right here. Everything will be okay,” I reassure her as I rush to her side.

I encircle her with my arms, guiding her to the nearest wall and coaxing her to the ground. Once we’re both settled, I bring her onto my lap, her lack of protest indicating shock.

I stretch out my legs, figuring I might as well get comfortable since there’s no telling how long we’ll be here. Everly tightensher grip at the nape of my neck, resting her head against my chest, gasping for air.

“Shh, I’ve got you. You’re safe with me,” I whisper against her ear. “Take a deep breath for me, okay? Inhale deeply for five counts, then exhale slowly for another five.” She mimics the exercise, her lip quivering as she does. “You’re doing well. Let’s do it again,” I praise, encouraging her to continue.

She nods as she takes another deep breath, this time counting out loud with me. “One, two, three, four, five…”

We repeat the routine several times, and her breathing evens out. I’m surprised when she cuddles into my chest, nuzzling her nose into my neck.

“This is why I prefer taking the stairs,” Everly rasps, her voice trembling. “What are the odds we’d get stuck in this death trap?”

I suppress a laugh, not wanting her to think I’m not taking her concerns seriously. I have the most beautiful woman in my arms, so it wouldn’t be the worst way to go.

“We could set up caution tape in front of the elevator, like they do onTheBig Bang Theory,” I suggest. “Then we’ll never have to worry about anyone getting stuck again.”

Everly chuckles at my suggestion. “I’m glad you’re here,” she murmurs, gazing up at me with those big brown eyes.

“There is nowhere else I’d rather be,” I assure her as I tug her closer, kissing her on the forehead.

“I have a phobia of being trapped inside small spaces, particularly when they can move.” She plays with the top button of my shirt while she explains. “When I was eleven, my mom and I got stuck in an elevator at my dad’s office. The lights went out and she didn’t have her phone, so we sat in the dark for an hour before we were rescued. Since then, I’ve avoided elevators when I can.”

“I’m afraid of clowns,” I blurt, wanting to make her feel better about her fear. “When I turned five, my mom hired a clown formy birthday party. An hour before the party started, I fell asleep on the couch in the living room. When I woke up with a clown hovering over my bed, it scared the living shit out of me.” I shudder at the memory.

“Clowns?” Everly chuckles. “The great Cash Stafford is afraid of clowns? Oh, this is too good.”

“I swear to god, Ev, if you tell my brothers, I’ll never forgive you,” I warn.

I’m only half joking. I’ve gone to great lengths to keep my fear under wraps because Dylan and Harrison would tease me mercilessly if they ever found out. The idea of enduring years of clown-related pranks sends a chill down my spine.

Everly brushes her thumb against my scar, her brow deepening. “Thanks for trusting me enough to share. Your secret is safe with me,” she vows.

I rest my hand against hers, holding it in place. Who knows when I’ll get another chance to hold her this close again (when she’s awake), so I’m savoring her touch while I can.

“What are you thinking?” I ask.

“Would you do anything different the night of your accident if you could go back?” she whispers as she runs her finger along my scar.

That night, I’d been on my way to Theo and Everly’s house during a bad snowstorm. I stopped to help Ruth, an elderly woman who lived in Aspen Grove. Her car had broken down and I offered her a ride into town. After I helped her into my car, she remembered she’d left her purse in the passenger seat of her vehicle.

I had just stepped out of my car when an SUV came barreling around the bend and hit a patch of ice. The last thing I saw were two headlights coming straight toward me, and then everything went black. The police report said I was thrown into the vehicle’s windshield.

I woke up in the hospital a week later with bandages covering half my face and had to undergo multiple reconstructive surgeries. Even with all that work, the left side of my face was still a mangled mess.

“There’s nothing I would change,” I state. “I might have a fucked-up face, but there’s no telling what would have happened if Ruth had been standing in the road instead of me.”

The doctors said it was a miracle that I didn’t suffer more severe injuries and credited it to my youth and resilience. It also helped that my parents flew in the best surgeons to help with my recovery.

“Oh, Cash,” Everly sighs. “I wish you could see yourself the way I see you. When I said your scar was sexy, I meant it.” She shakes her head, dismissing my attempt to argue. “It’s a testament to the sacrifice you made to help someone in need. Sure, you’re undeniably attractive, but it’s your compassion, charisma, and personality that make you irresistible. You’re a genuinely good person, and that can’t be replicated.”

God, how does she do that? With a few simple words, she makes me feel like I truly matter. Everly sees the best in me, even when I can’t, and is helping to shift my perspective.

She adjusts in my lap, pausing when her ass brushes against my cock. Her eyes widen as she sits up, glancing down to see how much she affects me.

Unable to resist, I move my hand to the small of her back, trailing my fingers along the fabric of her shirt in a hypnotic fashion. She doesn’t move as I lean in to tuck her hair behind her ear, pressing a chaste kiss to her temple. I exhale slowly, the air brushing against the side of her face, and a soft moan escapes her lips. She moves her hand between us to rest against my slacks. At first, I think it’s an accident until she grazes the outline of where my cock is pressing against the fabric.

Her action leaves me stunned, caught up in a lust-induced haze. I don’t dare break the silence, unwilling to shatter the spell of the moment.

---