Page 127 of Trailer Park Billionaire

Patched. Repainted. Unrecognizable to what it was.

Eventually, the rooftop thins out.

Olivia and Phoenix have to get up early in the morning to work on some book they’re collaborating on. When Sienna leaves, she hugs Helena so tightly, they nearly stumble and fall over the grill. Ryker catches them just in time and then carries Sienna to their car. Elaine gives both of us a kiss and heads to her new apartment.

And then it’s just the two of us, the fairy lights glowing soft around us. Below, the courtyard simmers with light from the apartments above it. A raccoon knocks something over by the gallery entrance.

Helena’s looking out over the city like it might disappear if she blinks first, her hair flowing in the wind, her shoulders loose. She exhales like she’s finally figured out how to relax again.

I brush a strand of hair behind her ear.

She turns. And smiles.

It’s not the smile from our early days—tight and skeptical and barbed with defenses. It’s not even the cautious grin she wore when she saw me picking her up after work.

It’s something else now.

“We did it,” I murmur.

She nods. “I know.”

“And I think we’re… pretty happy,” I say, because it still feels like a revelation.

She snorts. “I know, right? Who would have thought?”

I laugh, pulling her closer, breathing her in. “So, what do we do with all this joy?”

She leans in on tippy toes, against me, into me. Then she presses her forehead to mine. “I think we live in it. And annoy everyone around us by being disgustingly in love.”

My hand finds the small of her back. Her fingers curl into the hem of my shirt.

I kiss her. Slow. Careful. With the knowledge that she’s mine. That she’ll stay mine forever.

When we pull apart, she whispers, “You know, I usually don’t do this, considering the innocent little woman I am. But how do you feel about coming home with me?”

“And here I was thinking I already lived with that innocent little woman,” I answer, grinning.

“Oh, good. Then you should know how to take me home.” Helena jumps into my arms, her own wrapped around my neck, her legs around my waist.

Like that, we take the elevator down, giggling like teenagers when I press her against the walls, kissing her all over her neck. In the apartment, she kicks off her shoes. I follow suit, socks slipping on the polished floor. The hallway is scattered withboxes we haven’t unpacked yet and a few paintings I could swear weren’t there yesterday.

Inside our place, everything is warm wood, and soft linens, and mismatched furniture that we bought from flea markets over the last two years. There’s a half-eaten croissant on the counter. One of Helena’s sketches of me and a baguette is pinned to the fridge. A picture of Alex at the groundbreaking ceremony hangs next to it.

A photo of us with Elaine at the prison visitation booth adorns one of the shelves that’s already up, all of us smiling. Helena has the same smile as her mom. Next to it, sits theurnpaint can of Edward Frame.

Mid-kiss, she makes me pause in the middle of the living room, her eyes scanning the space. “You know,” she says, “for someone who used to live in a trailer, always on the run, you’ve turned into a pretty great domestic partner. A great domestic partner in crime.”

I chuckle and force my lips off her neck for a moment. “Is that so?” I murmur. “I think we should focus on the important things right now. Namely, that I’m also a pretty great partner in bed.”

She tilts her head up, eyes gleaming. Her mouth more mischievous than before. “You are…” she nods slowly, “definitely in my top twenty.”

I kiss her neck again, then bite it a little, making her moan with pain and pleasure alike. “Oh yeah? Which one of your imaginary boyfriends was better than me?”

“All the ones I’ll have to make up if you don’t start fucking me soon.”

I kiss her again. And this time it’s more than just a kiss. It’s a homecoming. A promise. A reminder that she is mine, and I am hers.

It doesn’t take long until that kiss turns into something else, something hungry, something sinful.