Final Offer (Dreamland Billionaires, #3)(2)

“Oh, and you did?” His chuckle comes off condescending.

I raise my chin. “He spent every single summer here until his accident, so yeah, I think I might know him better than the person who couldn’t even bother to call for his birthday.”

His eyes dart away. “He and I weren’t exactly on speaking terms before his coma.”

“I wonder why.” Sarcasm seeps into my voice.

He rubs the back of his neck. “I made a lot of mistakes the last time I was here.”

“Like getting together with me?”

The muscle in his jaw flexes. “I shouldn’t have pursued you the way I did.”

My chest might feel as if Cal plunged a serrated knife through it, but my face remains devoid of emotion—a skill perfected over the years.

“No, you really shouldn’t have.” My fingers tighten around the handle of the gun.

“I regret ruining our friendship.”

The invisible knife twists, sinking deeper into my flesh. “Dating didn’t ruin our friendship. Your addictions did.”

Painkillers. Alcohol. Sex. Cal used all of them to escape the demons in his head, and I was too stupidly in love to see otherwise.

You can’t blame yourself when he was a master at hiding it.

Yet I still struggle with believing the words I tell myself. My throat tightens from years’ worth of repressed emotions, making swallowing difficult.

His jaw clenches, and his sharp bone structure stands out even more. “Believe it or not, I didn’t drive all the way out here to fight with you about our past.”

“Then why exactly did you come here?” Out of the hundred questions I want to ask him, that feels like the safest one.

“I came to check out the house.”

“After six years? Why?”

“Because I plan on selling it.”

I blink twice. “No. Absolutely not happening.”

“Lana—” His use of the old nickname has my dead heart sparking with recognition.

No wonder he thought you were so easy last time. All it takes is one silly nickname for you to let your guard down.

“Don’t call me that.” My lips pull back.

“Alana,” he corrects himself with a small frown. “I don’t know what my grandpa told you, but you must have misunderstood him.”

“Right. Of course, you assume I must have misunderstood him.”

His eyes narrow. “Now you’re just being difficult.”

“As opposed to what? Na?ve and stupid like the last time?”

He ignores my outburst and carries on. “We can clear this up easily. Where’s the deed?”

I pause and consider the cons of giving in to his request.

The sooner you show him the deed, the sooner he’ll leave.

“I’ll go get it.” I move toward the stairs before throwing him a look over my shoulder. “Don’t leave that spot.”

“And risk giving you a reason to shoot me? I’m good.”

My reply hangs on the tip of my tongue, but I bite down on it. That’s the thing about Cal. He can make anyone forget that they’re angry with him solely by cracking a joke and flashing a smile. It is his greatest superpower and my personal kryptonite.

You’re more prepared now.

Or at least I hope I am.

I run upstairs and put my handgun away in the safe before searching my documents for the deed. It only takes me a minute to find it stuck between a few other important legal papers.

Cal checks my hands as I walk down the stairs. “No firearm this time?”

I shrug. “I know five different ways to kill a man with my bare hands, so it’s not like I really need it.”

His golden skin turns pale. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

I wish I was. My mom sent me to Colombia to visit my uncle one summer, and he had no idea how to entertain me other than to have me work at his farm and teach me mixed martial arts. I came back a month later with a black belt in kicking people’s asses and enough survival skills to compete on one of those outdoor reality shows.

I place the deed on the entry table and point at Brady’s signature. “There. Just like I said.”

Cal stands beside me while he checks out the deed. He is careful to keep his distance as he reads, but when he shifts his weight, our arms accidentally brush. A current of energy rolls through my body. He’s quick to tuck his arms behind his back, although the lingering effect of his touch remains. It’s been six years, yet my body reacts as if he only left yesterday.

My frown deepens.

Cal’s head shakes after he reads the entire page. “I’m sorry, but whatever deed he gave you is outdated.” He points at the date written beside Brady’s signature. “This was signed before his updated will.”

“What will?”

“The one he rewrote before his accident.”

My throat feels as if Cal wrapped his hands around it and squeezed.

No. That’s not possible. “I’m calling his lawyer right now so we can clear this all up.” I move toward the stairs, desperate to go upstairs and grab my phone.

Cal checks his fancy watch. “It’s almost midnight. I doubt Leo would answer a call at this time.”

I curse underneath my breath.

He tucks his hands into his pockets. “I’ll contact him in the morning so we can sort this out before the realtor stops by.”