Final Offer (Dreamland Billionaires, 3)

A knock on the door pulls me away from the show I was watching. I rise on to the tips of my toes and look through the peephole.

Oh God.

My hand trembles as I go to open the door. Cal doesn’t give me a chance to take him in as he lifts me off my feet, knocking the air out of my lungs.

“Fuck, I’ve missed you.” His arms wrapped around me tremble.

My heart clenches. I push against his chest, needing space to think.

“Just give me one more second.”

“One.” I tap on his shoulder.

He sighs as he puts me down on my feet, making sure to take his sweet time. “Sorry for that. I just got ahead of myself after spending the last thirty-seven days dreaming of coming home.”

Home.

Whatever control I had over my emotions unravels like a flimsy bow. I place a shaky hand against his cheek, and he leans into it.

“I’m proud of you for getting sober. Even if it was just for—”

He cuts me off. “Me. It was for me.”

I release a shaky breath. It’s not that I don’t want to believe what he says, but I’ve been burned too many times by him to do anything but doubt him.

He pulls something out of his pocket. “I wanted to bring you this.” He holds out a single chip. The slight tremor of his palm makes my chest tighten. “I know it’s not much, but I plan on earning every single one for the three of us.”

The three of us.

Warmth floods my chest like a broken dam, spreading from my chest to my toes. There is nothing I want more than for him to prove me wrong, but a big part of me is worried to believe him. Worried to hope. To dream. To trust that he is finally getting the help he needs.

Cal places the chip in my palm and closes my fist around it. “I will be at the motel if you need me.”

“I thought you hated that place.”

“Not nearly as much as I hate being far away from you.”

I reach out for the doorframe to stop myself from falling over. His lips tug into a small smile, although he walks away before I have a chance to truly enjoy it.

I peek behind him at the bright yellow SUV in the driveway. It looks like something straight out of a comic book, with all the sharp lines and chrome. “Is that a Lamborghini?”

He throws me a smile from over his shoulder. “Yeah.”

“What happened to your old car?”

He rubs the back of his neck and looks away. “Someone told me my other one isn’t safe for a kid.”

I blink.

He got a new car because you didn’t think his other one was safe enough?!

My grip on the doorframe tightens because I really do think my legs might give out.

“See you around?” His smile is hesitant.

I can only nod.

He drives off in his brand-new SUV he got for us while I remain staring at the space he previously occupied. I expected to feel relief at him leaving, but instead, disappointment presses against my shoulders.

Isn’t this what you wanted? Him gone?

That might have been the case, but what if he is telling the truth? What if he really is getting sober because he wants to better himself?

Only time will tell.

I’m driving back to the house after dropping Cami off at her dance class when I get distracted by the bright yellow Lamborghini SUV outside of the shop I’ve spent the last month ignoring.

Is that Cal?

My suspicions are confirmed as I catch him standing outside the shop, staring up at the building. I pull over and put my car hazards on. With shaky legs, I walk over to the man standing outside the store I always dreamed of opening my bakery in.

“What are you doing here?” I ask.

He looks over at me with eyes concealed by sunglasses. “Checking out the building.”

I turn to look at the shop. The red Coming Soon sign from before is no longer displayed across the windows.

“They left?” I walk up to the window and peek inside. The space is completely empty besides a few abandoned paint cans and a plastic sheet protecting the floor.

“I guess so,” Cal says from behind me.

I peek over my shoulder at him. “Why?”

“I overheard someone at the bookshop mentioning that the new landlord hiked up the rental prices.”

Shit! How will I ever afford this place now?

“What happened to Vinny?” Vinny’s family made a small fortune off renting out their tiny strip of Main Street for generations, so I’m surprised they parted with it.

“I heard he got bought out.”

My shoulders slump. “I wonder how much the new landlord is charging now if it ran them out of business before ever opening.”

“You could call their office and ask for a price.” He slides his sunglasses over his head.

I bite down on the inside of my cheek. Truth is, I’m tempted to give them a call. With all the money I’m getting from the deal I made with Rowan, I could probably afford the rent.

But still, something stops me—good old self-doubt, always popping up when I least expect it.

How many shops have tried to be successful here only to fizzle out? What makes my idea so different from the last bakery that opened here? Or the store before that?

“I’ll give them a call tomorrow,” I say.

Tomorrow sounds good. Safe.

He points at the sign taped to the door. “I dare you to give them a call now and ask.”

My eyes widen. “What?”

“You heard me.” His smile expands.

I shake my head hard enough to make my ponytail slap me in the face. “No.”

“Don’t tell me you’re scared,” he taunts.

“I’m not scared. I’m just…”

Damn it. I am scared.

Screw him for calling me out on it though.

His cocky smirk has me whipping my phone out of my pocket and dialing the number.

“You know what? I will call them just to prove I’m not.” I stab at the screen like it offended me. My finger shakes so hard, I misdial the number twice before getting it right.

A woman answers the phone. “Hello?”

“Hi, I’m calling to inquire about unit number seven on Main Street.”

“Ahh, yes. The rental unit. Is that the corner one?”

“Yes.”

Cal leans in closer, but I step away, not wanting him to overhear me receive crushing news.

“The property is available.”

“For how much a month?”

“Five hundred dollars.”

“Five hundred dollars?” I rub my eyes. “How is that possible?”

“According to the landlord, the property has a whole family of mice living inside. As you can imagine, that’s not exactly a selling point.”

“A whole family of—” Everything clicks into place.

Vinny selling the property after it had been in the family for years. Cal standing outside the building, daring me to call the number and ask about the rent.

“Excuse me, something just came up.” I hang up and turn to face the new landlord. “You bought the building.”

He doesn’t even blink. “I’ve always been interested in real estate.”

“Monopoly doesn’t count.”

He fights a smile and fails.

My eyes narrow. “Are you the new landlord?”

“Technically speaking, yes.”

“Why would you do that?”

“Because turning your dreams into realities makes me happy.”

“It makes you happy.” I repeat his words, processing them.

He frowns. “Is that so hard to believe?”

“I don’t even know what to believe right now.” The sobriety chip. His new car. The empty shop ready to be leased if I want it. It feels like too much all at once, and I’m not sure how to handle it all.

“I just want you to know if you want the shop, it’s yours. No strings attached.”

I grimace. “I hate being bought with gifts.”

“It’s not a gift if I plan on charging you rent.”

I snort a laugh. “Five hundred dollars a month is nothing for a spot like this and you know it.”

His gaze burns as he follows the curves of my body. “Well, if sex is on the table, then I’ll take that as well.”

I jab him in the ribs with my elbow before taking a few steps toward my car.

“Where are you going?” A hint of desperation bleeds into his voice.

“Far away from you.” I need to think, and I can’t do that with him smiling at me and talking about sex.

“But what about the shop?”

“Ehh. It’s a cute gesture, but maybe I want to explore my options beyond Lake Wisteria.”

Who am I kidding? Him buying the whole building to save the shop I want is something straight out of a Dreamland fairy tale.

He takes a step forward. “Where?”

I smile at Cal for the first time in weeks. “I’m not sure yet.”

“Don’t make me go buy up all the properties you’re interested in.”

“You’d go bankrupt.”

“Not even close, but it would put a nice dent in my bank account.” His eyes draw me in like a lighthouse in the middle of a storm.

I shake my head in disbelief. “You’re insane.”

“No, Lana, I’m in love. There’s a big difference.”

“What’s he doing here?” Violet’s head snaps toward the front door of Last Call.

Delilah and I follow her gaze. I lock eyes on Cal, who hasn’t noticed us sitting in our usual spot by the back.

The pit in my stomach becomes a canyon as Cal waves down one of the bartenders and orders his usual vodka tonic. He takes a seat by himself on the other side of the bar, giving everyone his back. I can’t make out if he is drinking yet or not, but my stomach rolls all the same.

“He shouldn’t be here.” My fingers press into the leather booth, leaving indentations behind.

“I’m sure he has a good explanation.” Delilah stares at her drink.

I stare at her like she grew a second head. “A good explanation?”

She doesn’t answer.

Violet scoffs. “What happened to getting sober?”

“He promised me he was.” I reach for the chip I keep on me at all times.

So much for that.

“Just hear me out—” Delilah tries to get my attention, but I’m too far gone.

My frustration boils over, and before I have a chance to stop myself, I charge over to his table.

“Alana!” Delilah calls after me, but I can’t hear her over the pounding of blood in my ears.

Cal looks up at the sound of my name, and his eyes widen as he catches me stomping over to his table. A few people turn to look over at us, the unwanted eyes making my cheeks heat.

“Here, asshole. You can have this back now.” I throw his sobriety chip on the table. It spins a few times before landing beside his drink.

The muscles of his back turn rigid underneath his shirt. “I gave it to you.”

“I don’t want it.”

“Why?”

“Because it doesn’t mean anything.” I motion toward his drink.

He pushes the chip back toward me. “I’m not drinking.”

“Then explain this shit.”

“Have a seat and I will.” Besides his clenched jaw and rough voice, he does a good job at tempering his anger.

It only pisses me off even more. The only reason I take a seat is because I feel like my legs might give out at any moment.

The hardness in his expression softens as he takes a good look at me. “It’s not what you think.”

A bitter laugh escapes me. “Of course it isn’t.”

“Give me a little more credit than this. I’m not risking everything with you for bottom-shelf vodka and flat soda.”

I stare into his eyes. “Then why order a drink in the first place?”

“Because I want to prove to myself that I’m stronger than my biggest weakness.” He stares at the glass in between us like it’s the enemy.

My mouth drops open.

The fight leaves him with a single deep exhale. “How can I expect you to trust me if I don’t trust myself?” His voice cracks. There is a slight tremor in his hand, and I grab on to it instinctively, wanting to ease some of his pain.

Our fingers interlock. Warmth spreads up my arm like wildfire, sparks shooting off my skin like embers off a flame.

I push the drink away from both of us. “You’re doing this because you don’t trust yourself?”

“Learning to trust myself again is a process.”

“Then find a different one because this is torture.”

His gaze lifts. “It’s not nearly as bad as knowing you still don’t believe anything I say.”

My chest caves in on itself.

“What do you expect? You hid a pretty big secret from me.”

“I’m going to fix it.”

“How?”

“It might take you a few years, but I’m pretty sure I can wear you down.”

My eyes widen. “Years?”

“All I have is time.”

“You plan on living at the motel for years?”

He recoils. “God, no.”

“Then what?”

He lifts my hand to his lips and kisses the scar on top of my knuckle before letting my hand go. “You’ll see.” He stands.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m going to go hang out with Wyatt.”

My brows hike. “You and Wyatt are friends?”

“He’s my sponsor.”

I blink. That explains why Delilah tried to stop me from making an ass of myself.

If only you had waited to hear her out.

“Will you be at the open house tomorrow?” His question comes out of left field.

“The open house? Why would I do that?”

“Because I plan on checking out the house and seeing what Ryder did with the place.”

I stand up on shaky legs. “Well, I won’t be. I have plans.”

His smile is a weak one that doesn’t sit right on his face. “Oh. That’s a shame.”

“Why?”

“Don’t worry.” He kisses my cheek before walking out of the bar, leaving his full vodka tonic and his sobriety chip behind. His absence only causes the chasm in my chest to widen even more.

Go after him, the hopeless romantic whispers.

I ignore the voice that has done nothing but get me in trouble and swipe the chip off the table before returning to my friends. The evening goes on, but my thoughts remain trapped in time, replaying Cal’s words over and over to the point of obsession. The only thing that strikes me as odd about our conversation was him asking if I would attend the open house.

The question came out of nowhere, and he seemed disappointed by my answer.

If only I knew why.