Page 3 of The Greek Billionaire's Email Bride

Hope nodded toward her faded blue Subaru, suddenly conscious of its dents and peeling paint. "I'm sorry. I know it doesn't look much, but it's reliable."

"I'm sure it is."

"I know you told me that I didn't need to pick you up, but I thought having more time together before meeting my parents would be ideal."

––––––––

Colin only nodded, and she wondered if he was always this silent. Or maybe he already found her boring?

Hope unlocked the passenger door for him, hurriedly clearing away a granola bar wrapper and an empty coffee cup.

Colin folded his tall frame into the passenger seat, his knees nearly touching the dashboard. In the confined space, his presence overwhelmed her senses—the subtle cedar notes of his cologne, the quiet power radiating from him with each shift of his shoulders.

Hope slid behind the wheel, shrinking beneath the weight of his silent assessment.

"My parents live about twenty minutes from here," she said, starting the engine. "They're... they're good people, but they're not—"

"I understand."

The quiet assurance in his voice startled her into looking at him.

"I know what's at stake. I'll do my part. I promise."

"Thank you," she said simply.

"Tell me more about them."

"The Bartons aren't my biological parents," Hope explained, keeping her eyes on the road as she started the drive back. "They fostered me starting when I was fifteen, after I'd been in several bad placements."

She felt his gaze on her profile but couldn't bring herself to meet it. Her history wasn't something she shared easily.

"They took in a traumatized teenager?" Colin asked quietly.

Hope nodded. "They saved my life. Edith and Frank... they gave me stability. A home."

The countryside blurred past her window—rolling hills dotted with cattle, mountains in the distance, a sky so blue ithurt to look at it. Wyoming's beauty had always been a comfort to Hope. Today, it felt like a reminder of everything wild and unpredictable in her carefully planned life.

"We're here," she said as they turned onto a dirt road lined with aspen trees.

The Barton farmhouse came into view: white with blue shutters, flower beds lining the front porch, and a hand-painted mailbox reading "Barton Family Farm." It was modest but meticulously maintained.

Edith came out to welcome them. "So you're the gentleman who's stolen our girl's heart."

Hope's pulse quickened as Colin stepped forward, taking Edith's weathered hand in both of his.

"Mrs. Barton." His voice transformed, warming in a way Hope hadn't heard before. "It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Colin Soukoulis."

"Oh, none of that 'Mrs. Barton' business. It's Edith," the older woman said with a smile. "Come in, please. Frank's just getting cleaned up from the barn."

Hope followed them into the modest living room, watching Colin take in the worn furniture, the crocheted afghans, the family photos covering every surface. She tensed, waiting for a flicker of disdain, a tensing of his shoulders, any sign that he found her childhood home beneath him.

Her foster father joined them then, tall and lean, with leathery skin and kind blue eyes. "Frank Barton," the older man said quite simply as he extended a calloused hand.

Hope held her breath as Colin introduced himself and shook Frank's hand firmly. "It's an honor to meet the man who's responsible for teaching Hope to drive a tractor. From her stories alone, I can already tell she's a lot better than most of my ranch hands."

Frank looked as if he had received the greatest compliment. "My girl's always been one in a million."

Hope could only watch in amazement as Colin Soukoulis—billionaire CEO and revenge-seeking husband—went on to skillfully charm her foster parents over Edith's pot roast dinner. He asked Frank about crop rotation, listened to Edith's stories of Hope's early adulthood, and somehow managed to downplay his own wealth without lying outright. He was... perfect.

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