Page 49 of Billion Dollar Vow

“Want another?” I ask, finishing mine with a last gulp, my voice gentler than intended. But I don't break eye contact, silently letting her know that whatever this is between us, fake marriage or not, it matters to me.

“Yes.” She nods, but yawns, looking as tired as I feel. “But after that, I think I’ll be ready for bed.”

The mention of bed sends my thoughts in a direction they shouldn’t go: images of her curled beside me, her hair spread across a pillow… wearing that blue lingerie set I picked out for her. I quickly redirect my thoughts, knowing I can’t act on them.

“Same,” I reply as I wave down the server.

“What time’s our flight tomorrow?”

They come and pour us another. “Morning. But as soon as we land, we have to move the rest of your stuff into my house.”

“Oh, great.” She rolls her eyes, taking a sip of her new drink. “And when my brother’s back, he’s going to show up, over-analyzing everything and laying down ground rules.”

I give her a playful nudge. “I’ll be there, so it’ll be two against one. But let’s hope he doesn’t make it back from Florida in time.”

“I hope not. The whole fatherly figure thing drives me nuts. I’m looking forward to getting some distance.”

“I’ve organized a truck and some movers, so we don’t have to do it ourselves, but we have to be there to direct them.”

She squints at me. “How did you find time to organize all of this?”

“Cora helps.”

“So I should be thanking her.” She smirks.

“Probably,” I murmur, taking another sip so we can go soon.

She wiggles her eyebrows at me. “You’d better hide all your mess and get rid of any old girlfriend stuff. Your wife is moving in.”

I hold her gaze, strangely pleased by the idea of her things in my place. “I don’t have any other girls’ stuff at my house.”

She gives me a curious look. “Oliver, can I ask you something?”

“Yes. Of course.”

“Why haven’t you had any serious girlfriends?”

Her question surprises me, my temple throbbing, but I answer truthfully. “Because I’m focused on the galleries. I don’t make much time for relationships.”

She takes another sip, eyeing me. “Hmm.”

“What?”

“Nothing,” she mumbles.

I groan. “I hate it when women say ‘nothing.’ It always means you’re thinking of something you don’t want to say.”

She laughs softly. “No, really, I’m just surprised by your answer.”

“Well, what about you?” I ask, raising an eyebrow, genuinely curious. “Where’s your boyfriend?”

A slight blush rises to her cheeks, maybe from the drinks. “I don’t have time with work and studying. Plus, now I’m focusing on getting my own place, which, thanks to you, I’ll finally have. Maybe now I’ll have time for a boyfriend.”

I sit up straighter, my jaw clenching at the thought. “Well, you’re going to be married to me for a couple of months, so I guess you won’t need one for now.”

We finish our drinks in silence, but when she yawns again, it causes me to yawn in response. I stand and hold out my hand. “Come on, wifey,” I say, smiling. “Let’s get you to bed.”

“We’re not sleeping together,” she says, rising and slipping her hand in mine.