Page 30 of Falling for the Wrong Billionaire
The words come out of my mouth before I even know I’ve thought them.
I’m standing in my kitchen, the morning sun spilling through the window, painting the counters in soft gold. I’ve been staring into a cup of black coffee for twenty minutes. Didn’t sleep last night. Didn’t sleep the night before that, either.
Two whole nights without her. And for what?
To give her space? To pretend the kiss didn't happen.
Yeah, no. I'm not doing that anymore.
I set the mug down, grab my keys off the hook, and head for the door.
Because if I have to sit through one more hour wondering what’s going on in her head, I’ll lose my damn mind.
The drive to the clinic is quick this time. Ocean Bay is quiet this early — gulls circling, boardwalk just starting to wake up. But my chest is tight the whole way.
I stop at a little shop near the harbor first, pick up the package that came in this morning. The clerk smiles when she hands it to me, a little curious no doubt, but I don’t stop to explain. Just thank her and leave.
I remember the way her eyes lit up when she mentioned it at dinner. Said she used to have it all the time when she was little, but you can’t get it around here. Said she tried ordering it and they told her it’d take at least a month to come.
Well. Not if you know the right people.
I walk into Gracie’s Animal Haven feeling more nervous than I expected. The smell of disinfectant and pet shampoo hits me immediately. Somewhere in the back, I can hear the low rumble of dogs barking, cats mewling.
And then I see her.
Lucy.
She’s at the front desk; her head bent over some paperwork. One of the ferrets Pip or Nibbs, I can't tell which one is which… is draped over her shoulder like a living scarf.
My chest squeezes.
"Good morning," I say.
She looks up, startled. And then her eyes widen.
"Liam, what are you doing here?" she breathes.
I hold up the little box, and for the first time in days, I see her face soften.
"I brought this for you," I say, setting it down on the counter.
She blinks. "What is it?"
"Open it."
Her fingers tremble slightly as she unties the ribbon and lifts the lid.
Inside is a pint of Belgian chocolate gelato. Her favorite. The exact brand she said she hadn’t had in years.
I watch her stare at it, and something in her eyes shifts — something unguarded and vulnerable and so damn beautiful I can barely stand it.
Her voice is quiet. "But… how? They told me it would take weeks."
I shrug, leaning casually against the counter even though my heart is hammering. "I have my ways."
She shakes her head slowly, a breathless little laugh escaping her. "Of course you do."
Her smile real, warm, wide almost knocks me over.
