Page 151 of The Billionaire's Fake Fiancée

“Rex!” I call after him. “Wait.”

He stops. He turns.

“That thing you just said.”

“Yeah?”

I swallow. “It might be a bit long for a couples dynamic,” I say.

I start toward him. I can’t read his expression, but I feel him. I always have.

“How about this—you’re the alpha who shows me his soft side.” I stop in front of him and smooth his lapels, cool from the night air. “And I’m the girl who’s been burned a lot, but she’ll risk her heart for you.” I look up. “Because she knows you. And she loves you. She always has.”

“Kitten.” He cradles my cheeks in his hands. “What?”

“I love you,” I say. “I always have.”

He sucks in a breath, palms warm on my cheeks. “Heart face.”

I go up on my toes and kiss him. “Heart face isn’t a thing,” I say into the kiss. “But I love you anyway.”

Epilogue

Six months later

Tabitha

I’m leaningon the polished oak railing of Gail’s yacht, looking out at the vast ocean stretching for miles around. The water is a deep shade of cobalt blue, with just the tips of the waves dancing and sparkling in the dazzling sunlight.

Rex comes up behind me and wraps his arms around me. I’ve been here for a couple days, working with Gail to get ready for our huge influencer party celebrating the launch of ten flagship storefronts across seven cities.

He came in by helicopter late last night. We have a huge suite up on the fifth level this time around. It’s the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.

Rex has spent the early morning directing his empire from a cabana.

“Things going good?” I ask him.

He sets his chin on top of my head. “Very good.”

We fit together in every way now. I never knew it could be like this.

Back in the city, I have my own office in Gail’s tower, but after hours I usually head to Rex’s building and we work together, sharing ideas and insights while the rest of the city heads home. I used to think he was way too much of a workaholic, but now I get what it feels like to be passionate about a project.

Sundays, however, are strictly us-days. At first Rex got twitchy from not working for a whole day, but now it’s natural. We read the paper in bed. We head out to the park with Mike, the rescue dog we adopted—Mike’s a big pit bull mix who’s as sweet as taffy, even when Seymour runs free on Rex’s living room floor.

We love going out to the farmers market. Rex has gotten into cooking, of all things, and okay, the way he does it is a bit intense—he’s competitive and perfectionistic, and he even has his own signature dish, but we laugh about it. And then we hang out on his deck overlooking the park and feast.

Seymour and I stay at his sprawling and palatial condo more often than not. I’ll be moving in soon, but that doesn’t mean I’ll lose connection with my girl squad.

Quite the opposite—Gail and I are opening a style storefront right down the block from our building, right on 9th Avenue—next to the Cookie Madness where everybody hangs out. Needless to say, I see my friends from the building just as much as I ever did.

“Oh, the monotony,” Rex says, as the waves turn up their dazzle-factor.

“Such monotony,” I agree. “Can you even?”

“So did Jada have any news?” he asks, settling in next to me at the railing.

Bynewshe means news about the wrecking ball. I just got off the phone with Jada. There have been rumors that Malcolm Blackberg is sending out eviction notices soon, and that the wrecking balls will be moving in. People are freaking.

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