Page 80 of Marrying the Billionaire

“Will you tell me about her?”

His thumb brushes over the back of my hand. “She’d love you,” he whispers. “She was soft spoken, like you. And her big thing was gardening. Especially flowers. They were always all over the house.” He pauses, leaning in closer to sniff. “Your perfume. That’s what it is.”

“What?”

“It reminded me of something, but I never made the connection. It’s the flowers.”

I hold a hand up to my neck. “It reminds you of your mom?”

He shakes his head. “No, not her specifically. Just a better time. Before she got sick.”

Our food arrives then and he thankfully continues talking without more prompting on my end. Things about her, about his childhood, an untapped reserve within him I greedily soak up, wanting to know everything about him. His stories naturally involve his brothers a lot, and it only calls to mind how little I’ve heard about them from him.

“You haven’t mentioned your brothers much before. Are you still close?”

He picks at his salad for a moment before responding. “I haven’t been a good brother to them.”

What’s he talking about? “I’m sure that’s not true.”

A look of defeat crosses his face, so dejected it makes my heart ache. “Mom was the one who brought us all together. And after she was gone, I… well, it was hard to face them. All they did was remind me of her.”

“You were grieving.”

He sets his fork down and rubs at his temples. “I promised her I’d take care of them. And I didn’t.”

“You’re only a year older than Gabriel. I’m sure you didn’t actually need to-”

“I said I would. I failed her.”

I set my own silverware down. “Archer, have you ever seen a therapist?”

His brow furrows. “No.”

I take a moment to collect my thoughts, wanting to tread lightly over what seems a personal, painful matter. “It sounds like you have a lot of unresolved grief about the situation. Talking to someone might help you sort that out so you can forgive yourself.”

He stares at me, his gaze piercing, the lines bracketing his mouth so deep, I’m afraid they’ll stay there permanently.

“Seeing you in pain hurts me,” I say softly. “And honestly, I could probably use some therapy about my parents too.”

“Maybe we could go together,” he whispers roughly, as if there’s something stuck in his throat.

I reach out and squeeze his hand. “I’d like that.”

“I don’t deserve you, Serena.”

A wave of warmth rushes over me at the earnestness in his voice. “Yes, you do. We’re a team, remember? We’re in this together.”

He lifts our joined hands to press a soft kiss to the inner side of my wrist. “I’m really glad Gabriel pulled his stunt at the wedding.”

My answering smile is so wide, my cheeks ache. “I am too.”

We finish lunch, relaxing further, his rare smiles coming easier now, and I delight in finally breaking through what feels like the last barrier. After, he walks me outside to where his driver is waiting to take me to the animal shelter, the kiss he gives me at the curb making my toes curl.

“I meant to talk to you about a couple other things, but it can wait till tonight,” he says, wrapping his hands around my lower back to pull me tight into his body.

“We usually get sidetracked, don’t we?”

“In good ways, though.”

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