Final Offer (Dreamland Billionaires, #3)(48)
Everything about my first kiss is amazing. The buzz building in my lower belly. The slight shift in his breathing as my arms wrap around the back of his neck so I can pull him in closer. His fingers digging into my hair, trapping me as he kisses me like he spent his whole life dreaming about it.
Cal kisses like he is afraid that I might disappear at any second, so he wants to prolong it.
My fingers brush against the patch of skin between his hair and his shirt. He sucks in a breath, pausing our kiss to press his forehead against mine. “Lana.”
“Lana.” Cal’s voice sounds completely different.
Deeper. Rougher. Sexier.
“Hello, Lana,” he says, sharper.
Shit.
The memory disappears in a blink of an eye. I press a hand against my lips as I look up at Cal.
“Why did you want to save the plank?” His question comes out soft.
My gaze drops along with my self-esteem. “It was stupid.”
“Tell me,” he pushes.
My mouth opens, the truth lying on the tip of my tongue.
Because no matter what has changed between us, the memories tied to that piece of wood will always hold a special place in my heart.
Sharing what the plank meant to me feels like betraying myself and the anger I’ve spent years holding on to.
It doesn’t matter anymore. It’s gone now.
I clear my throat. “Whatever. It’s not like it matters anyway. It was just a stupid piece of wood.”
His face crumples. I slide out from underneath his arms, leaving him staring at the space I once occupied.
I type out a new message to Cal, jabbing my screen like it personally offended me.
You have another package.
Cal’s reply is instant.
Cal
That one’s for you.
My mouth drops open.
You ordered something for me?
Cal
I owed you after scaring you last night.
I battle between opening the package and leaving the cardboard box to rot in the garage. Curiosity wins over common sense, so I grab a pair of scissors from the kitchen and open the box.
My hands tremble as I pull out a new baby monitor.
Oh my God.
My heart betrays me in that moment, throbbing painfully in my chest.
It’s just a baby monitor, I try to rationalize with myself. Except it has nothing to do with the baby monitor and everything to do with the fact that Cal cares enough about me to replace the one that fell into the water.
Honestly, I’m not sure he ever stopped caring.
How am I supposed to hate the man when he does thoughtful shit like this?
You’ll never be able to hate him and you know it.
No, but at least the idea of hating him makes me feel in control.
This feeling though? The one that makes my heart beat wildly in my chest and my head spin with ideas about him?
I need to shut that shit down fast.
19
ALANA
“Por Dios, no empieces conmigo.” I smash the side of my hand mixer for the fifth time tonight. Between it overheating from too much use and its old age, I’m lucky the motor still runs.
I haven’t been able to part with the baking tool, especially since my mom got it for me, but I’d kill for one of those fancy mixers right about now. Once upon a time I had one, but it broke and I never got around to buying a new one because a majority of my money went into making sure Cami had everything she needed.
If only they didn’t cost more than half a paycheck.
“Esta vaina.” I continue banging the side of the mixer.
Someone chuckles.
I look up to find Cal standing in the doorway of the kitchen with a smile. “All good?”
“Having the time of my life, thanks for asking.”
He motions toward the mixer in my hand. “Need any help?”
“I’ve got it.” In a final act of betrayal, the metal flat beaters spin twice before halting altogether. I place it on the other side of the counter to prevent myself from doing something I might regret.
“I could take a look at it if you want.” He reaches for the mixer.
“Don’t worry about it. I have enough buttercream to finish up the last few cupcakes.”
“Is that guava frosting?” Cal’s voice hits a rare high pitch. He reaches for the mixing bowl beside me with bright eyes, but I slap his hand away.
He pouts, reminding me so much of Cami. “Come on. Just let me have a little taste.”
“No. That’s unsanitary.”
His eyes roll. “No one will know.”
“My students might not, but I will.”
“So? Aren’t these the same kids who eat dirt on a daily basis?”
“That only happened one time while I was subbing.”
He leans against the counter with a smile. “What do you teach now?”
“Spanish.” I refocus my attention on icing the cupcake in front of me. Maybe if I act like I’m not interested in talking to him, then Cal will go away.
“Do you like it?”
“It pays well.” Being the only Spanish teacher in all of Lake Wisteria has its perks, especially when kids need private tutoring for advanced placement exams and finals.