Page 90 of Billion Dollar Vow

I shake my head as fear of being abandoned again threatens to overtake me. “I’m scared,” I whisper.

“Then let’s continue to take it slow,” he says softly. He turns me so he’s holding me again. We stay like this, staring at the house for a while longer.

A few hours later, the warm scent of herbs and roasting chicken fills the kitchen. It’s quiet except for the chopping of vegetables. Oliver stands beside me at the counter, sleeves rolled up, slicing carrots with precision. I brush past him to grab garlic, and my hand grazes his. A fleeting touch that sends a thrill up my spine. My cheeks flush, and I quickly turn back to my cutting board, pretending to be focused on mincing the clove. But I can feel his eyes on me.

“You’ve been quiet. Are you okay?”

“I’m focused,” I reply without looking up, though my pulse quickens as he steps nearer.

“Focused?” he teases. “You’ve chopped that garlic into dust.”

Heat floods my face as I realize he’s right. I laugh as I sweep the tiny pieces into a bowl. “Just trying to make sure it’s perfect.”

His phone chimes with a notification of someone at the door, so he moves away with a soft chuckle. I can’t tell if it’s at my expense or because he finds this endearing.

Evelyn enters behind Oliver, her eyes lighting up when she sees me. “Karley!” she squeals, moving to give me a big hug. As she pulls back, her sharp eyes immediately take in the scene. She arches an eyebrow but says nothing, heading for the fridge to cool the bottle of white wine she’s brought with her. My stomach twists with the urge to tell her everything about last night, the way Oliver completely unraveled me. But the timing hasn’t been right, and besides, Oliver has barely left my side since the moment we woke up.

Not that I’m complaining.

“How can I help?” Evelyn offers as she watches Oliver return to the kitchen.

The door chimes again. “Could you grab that?” Oliver asks.

She smiles and heads to open the door.

He shifts closer to me, reaching over to pluck the tray from the counter. His arm brushes mine, lingering just enough to make me catch my breath.

“You okay?” he asks.

I glance up at him, momentarily lost in the soft intensity of his piercing gaze. His question feels like he’s asking more than he’s letting on.

“Yeah,” I reply, steadier than I expected. “Just... preoccupied.”

His smirk returns, but there’s a flicker of something deeper in his expression. “Good,” he says softly. “Stay that way. It makes this easier.”

I don’t have time to unpack what he means, because the sound of heavy footsteps announces the arrival of the family. The room fills with laughter and voices, breaking the sexual tension around us.

Their familiar faces brighten the room, and I move in for a quick hug. “Hi,” I greet Wren and Amber when they step into the kitchen.

“Hey,” they chime back, both smiling warmly. Amber’s sharp eyes flick briefly to Oliver, and I can tell she’s assessing him in her own way.

Oliver, ever the charmer, steps forward with his hand extended. “Hi. Nice to meet you both,” he says, firmly shaking first Amber's hand, then Wren's with a warm smile. His eyes drift to the bundle of white fluff nestled in Wren's arms. “And who's this guy?” Oliver asks, leaning down slightly to get a better look at the dog.

“This is Rufus,” Wren replies, his voice full of affection.

I reach out to pat Rufus’s soft fur, cooing at him. Oliver follows suit, his larger hand brushing the top of Rufus’s head. The dog seems content, at least for a moment, before wiggling excitedly out of Wren’s grasp.

Oliver pours wine for Evelyn, Amber, and me, and cracks open beers for himself and Wren. The gesture is so effortless, so natural.

As we all settle into the rhythm of cooking and conversation, I glance at Oliver, catching the faintest hint of a smile as he works.

Just as I’m about to take Amber and Wren on a tour of the house. Rufus, now free, lunges at Oliver’s leg with determination.

“Rufus!” Wren’s voice cuts sharply through the room.

But Rufus, undeterred, clings to Oliver’s leg and humps.

“Rufus, stop!” Wren commands again, his tone more urgent.

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