Final Offer (Dreamland Billionaires, 3)

Things finally feel like they’re falling into place for me. Lana has even trusted me with a key to the house again after I needed access to it and she had plans for the weekend.

Even packing has gone smoothly over the last week. Most of my grandpa’s items are cleared out of the attic, and the only thing left is to pack up is my old bedroom. It’s located at the farthest corner of the house, a long way away from the childish giggling happening on the other side of the second floor.

Walking into my childhood room feels like I’ve been launched directly into the past. Besides a few taped boxes stacked in a corner, the place looks untouched. Even the glow-in-the-dark stars Lana and I superglued to the ceiling over two decades ago remain, although a few are missing or hanging by a single point. The window overlooking the lake snags my attention in the same way it did years ago when I picked this room as mine.

My brothers never understood why I wanted the smallest room located in a cramped corner of the house, but I thought the answer would be obvious if they took a moment to look out the bay window.

It feels strange to return here after six years away. I’m not sure why my grandpa and Señora Castillo kept the room the same, but it feels like it’s been trapped in time.

The floor-to-ceiling shelves covering each of the three other walls feature the model boats I built during my summers here. From my first sailboat to a mini version of the Titanic, each boat holds a fond memory of a summer spent at Lake Wisteria. Of Lana and me staying up far too late working on them in the study.

My throat tightens as I stare at the last ship we started building the summer of my accident. The USS Constitution Lana bought me for my birthday sits unfinished on the lowest shelf, looking abandoned with its incomplete hull facing toward the ceiling.

You never had a chance to finish it together.

My chest throbs.

“Whoa.”

I turn on my heels to find Cami staring up at the shelves with wide eyes. “Did you make that?” She points at a replica of La Candelaria sitting on the highest shelf, far away from anyone who could accidentally knock it over.

My throat tightens. “Yeah.”

“Really?” She looks over at me with a strange expression.

I nod.

“What about that one?” She directs my attention toward the shelf above the window, where an Elizabethan Navy Rowan warship model sits, the wood dulled from the amount of dust and cobwebs covering the hull.

“Yup.”

“And that one too?” There is a special sparkle in her eyes as she checks out the Viking ship.

“I made all of these with your mom.” Hopefully that will answer any lingering questions she might have.

She gasps. “My mom? How?” Her forehead wrinkles from her pinched expression.

You spoke too soon.

I run a hand over my stubble, considering the best way to explain the process. “Have you played with Legos?”

“Yes!” She nods her head with a smile.

“It’s like that but harder.”

“Why?”

Instead of explaining the process, I pull out my phone and show her a time-lapse video of someone building a model sailboat. It’s the first time I’ve been able to keep her quiet for a solid five minutes, so I count my idea as a win. Even I find myself getting swept up in the familiarity of the process and the therapeutic aspect of boatbuilding.

And that right there is why your brothers teased you endlessly about being a nerd.

Once the video ends, she looks up at me with a big smile. “Cool!”

I rear back. “Really?”

Her head bobs up and down. “I want to try.”

She might not look like Lana, but she is 100 percent her through and through.

“You do?”

“Yes! Can we make one together?”

I blink twice, focusing on how she grouped us together. “What?”

“Please can we do one, Cow-l? Pretty, pretty please.” Her bright eyes pierce through my resolve, tempting me to say yes.

“Ummm…”

She bats her lashes. “I’ll be your bestest friend ever.”

Don’t you dare fall for that.

Except it’s pretty hard not to with the way she looks up at me with a beaming smile full of hope. The idea of killing her budding interest makes the acid in my stomach bubble.

Stay strong.

“They’re pretty hard.” My excuse might be weak, but it’s an honest one. I didn’t start my first kit until I was double her age, and even then, I struggled until my grandpa stepped in to help.

“I’m no quitter.” She lifts her chin.

I can tell based on the way she pushes me to say yes. I’m tempted to, solely because of her tenacity, but one thing holds me back.

“You need to ask your mom if it’s okay.”

“So, we can build one?” She bounces on the balls of her feet.

“If your mom says yes—” Lana will for sure say no, and I wouldn’t blame her one bit. It was kind of our thing before it wasn’t anymore. There is no chance in hell I expect her to want Cami and me to build one.

Cami cuts me off with a squeal before running out of my room, leaving me to question if I made the right decision.

No turning back now.

I spend the rest of my day packing away each of my model ships carefully into individual moving boxes. The last one I have left to pack, which I debated between dumping or saving all afternoon, is the boat Lana and I never finished.

Before I reconsider my answer, I pack it away with the box of unfinished parts.

My phone goes off a few times, mostly from my family group chat which I’ve ignored ever since my fight with Declan. I know I’ll have to deal with him eventually, but I would rather face him once I’m officially done with my task.

I don’t check my phone until I tape up the last box.

Lana

Care to explain why Cami has spent the last two hours watching boatbuilding videos on YouTube?

Lana

Never mind. I finally got the answer out of her.

It takes me a whole pathetic minute to come up with a reply.

And?

Her reply comes through a second later.

Lana

Is it true that you offered to build a boat with her?

My fingers fly across the screen before I hit send.

More like I was bribed.

Lana

Then don’t worry about it…

Shit. As nervous as I got from Cami’s request earlier, I’d hate to disappoint her after how excited she looked.

In an act of desperation, I send a rapid-fire text without thinking twice about it.

She offered to be my bestest friend ever if I agreed. I would be stupid to say no, especially with how many enemies I have in this town.

The bubbles pop up before disappearing, only to appear again. It happens twice before a new message appears on my phone.

Lana

Don’t make me regret this.

What’s the worst that can happen?

Lana

The options are endless whenever you’re concerned.

I can always count on you to knock me down.

Lana

At least I’m consistent.

She also sends an upside-down smiley face and a shrugging woman emoji. With a smile, I reply with a middle finger emoji.

I spend the rest of my afternoon with a stupid smile on my face, long after our conversation ended. The pressure in my chest is replaced by a lightness I haven’t felt in a while, and my usual urge to drink while sorting through my personal items is absent.

It’s a small win for an addict like me, but a win nonetheless, so I’ll take it.

On my way to drop off the final box in the garage, I pass by the living room. Cami is sprawled out on the couch, fast asleep while wearing a sailor costume. An adult-sized captain’s hat is thrown on the floor beside her right next to an empty juice box.

The kid is stupidly cute. No wonder Lana never stood a chance at saying no to her about building a boat with me. Who would?

“Oh, no. She fell asleep before dinner.”

I turn to find Lana standing beside me.

“Are you going to wake her up?” I ask.

“Heck no.”

I chuckle low. “Do you plan on having her sleep down here?”

“Nope.”

“What are you waiting for?”

She presses her palm against the small of her back. “I’m mentally preparing my back for the pain I’m going to feel tomorrow once I carry her up the stairs.”

“I can carry her,” I offer before thinking.

Surprise. Surprise.

Her brows shoot up. “You can?”

I place the box on the floor. “She probably weighs what… forty-five pounds soaking wet?”

“A little less but yeah.”

“No worries. I got her.” I walk up to Cami and tuck my arms beneath her head and legs. Cami’s head rolls, but Lana is quick to readjust her so her cheek is pressed against my chest. Cami grumbles something under her breath before snuggling deeper into my shirt.

A strange tugging in my chest has me looking away from Cami’s face and directly toward Lana’s. Her gaze travels from Cami to me, the skin around her eyes softening.

She is quick to break eye contact first. “I’ll show you to her room.”

I’m mindful not waking Cami as I follow Lana up the stairs and toward Rowan’s old room. The dark wood furniture and navy blue paint is gone, replaced by lavender walls and a white canopy bed shaped like a princess carriage.

The Dreamland-themed comforter makes me smile. “Cute—”

“Don’t.” Her edgy tone matches her eye roll. A few of the princesses from our most famous movies are plastered across the fabric, all grinning up at the ceiling. Lana throws it back before giving me room.

I’m careful to not wake Cami as I place her on the bed. She doesn’t stir, so I take a step back and let Lana do her thing. My feet remain glued to the floor while Lana tucks Cami in and whispers something against her forehead before kissing it.

The tugging sensation comes back stronger this time and wraps around my heart like a lasso, tempting me to escape.

So I do just that.

Since I’m in the mood to run away, I throw on my workout gear and take advantage of the breezy evening. I don’t stop running until I end up heading down Main Street in search of food and something to occupy my mind.

Warm light pouring out of One More Chapter’s windows has me taking off in the direction of the bookshop.

“Back so soon?” Meg shuts her book with a sigh.

“I need a new book.” I wipe my damp face with the bottom of my shirt.

“Already? You just bought three a few days ago.”

I run my hands through my slick strands of hair. “Not like I have much else to do around here besides read.”

“What are you looking for this time?”

I pull out my phone to check Zahra’s list, only to remember I already bought all the books she recommended. “Huh.” My brows pinch together. “Do you have any recommendations?”

Her brows furrow. “For you?”

I look around the empty shop.

“Are you looking for something similar to what you read last time?” she asks.

“Or whatever you recommend.”

Her eyes brighten for the first time ever. “Really?”

“Sure? Just don’t set me up with something shitty because you don’t like me.”

Her cackle doesn’t exactly make me feel warm and fuzzy, but my uneasiness fades away as she bounces around the store with a smile while throwing books at me until the stack surpasses the top of my head.

She motions me toward the counter. “That should keep you busy for some time.”

“Or a week,” I mutter underneath my breath.

“You know if you have a lot of time on your hands, I heard the team in charge of the Strawberry Festival is still searching for volunteers.”

“To do what?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know, but if you’re interested, you can stop by Town Hall and sign up.”

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” I tuck my hands into my pockets.

She raises a brow. “What’s the worst that can happen? The town actually has a reason to start liking you again?”

Well, when she puts it that way…

I would rather spend the rest of my weeks at Lake Wisteria without the town going out of their way to make my stay miserable, so if it means volunteering for a weekend, then so be it. What could possibly go wrong?