Page 48 of Falling for the Wrong Billionaire
She blinks rapidly, clearly trying not to cry.
I grin softly. “Come on. Let’s eat before the sun goes down completely.”
She lets me lead her to the blanket, still in awe, still shaking her head like she can’t believe this is real.
We settle onto the pillows, and she gasps again as she sees all the little details — her favorite fruit neatly sliced, her favorite wine already uncorked, little chocolate truffles sitting prettily on a plate.
“Liam… how did you…”
I shrug, trying to play it off. “I pay attention.”
She stares at me for a long moment before whispering, “You really do.”
We eat, and she relaxes more with every bite. She laughs at my jokes, even the bad ones, and tells me stories about her childhood — little ones, nothing too deep, but enough to feel like she’s letting me in a little more.
And every time she laughs, it feels like my chest could burst from how much I like her.
After we’ve finished eating, I get up and hold out my hand.
She raises an eyebrow. “What now?”
I grin. “Kite flying.”
Her mouth drops open. “You’re kidding.”
“Not even a little,” I say, already holding up the kite I’d tucked behind the basket earlier.
She groans but gets up anyway, and within minutes we’re both running up and down the sand like kids, letting the wind catch the colorful kites as they soar into the sky.
She’s competitive, teasing me every time her kite catches a better gust of wind than mine, and I pretend to pout just to hear her laugh again.
As the sky darkens, we finally let the kites fall and collapse onto the blanket again, breathless and grinning.
The stars are just starting to appear above us, the ocean stretching out like an endless sheet of black glass.
We walk down to the shoreline, our hands brushing together until finally I just take hers completely, holding it as we stroll through the shallow water.
The quiet between us is comfortable, but I can feel her walls still up — just enough to keep me out.
I glance at her, her hair blowing gently in the breeze, her expression distant as she stares at the horizon.
I want to tell her how much she means to me. How much I’m starting to care.
But I don’t.
Not yet.
Instead, I squeeze her hand gently, silently promising myself that I’ll keep showing up. That I’ll find out who broke her heart and prove to her that I’m not going anywhere.
She glances up at me then, her lips curved in the faintest smile, and I know — this is worth the wait.
We walk back up the beach, hand in hand, the stars above us, the ocean behind us, and something fragile but steady growing between us.
***
I wake up with a smile on my face, the kind that’s a little too wide, but it’s the only kind of smile I’ve got these days. The moment my eyes flutter open, the first thing I think about is last night — the way she looked at me, the way her hand fit perfectly in mine, the way we shared something simple but real. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt like this.
I stretch in bed, the quiet morning surrounding me, and then the thought hits me — I want to hear her voice. I can’t help it. It’s become something I look forward to, hearing her soft tone, her laugh, the way she says my name like it’s only meant for me.
