Page 42 of Accidentally Marrying the Billionaire

"The CEO thing."

He shrugs. “It’s really more of the autistic thing, but yeah."

We sit there for a moment, foreheads almost touching, breathing the same air. My heart is still racing, but it feels different now. Less like panic, more like anticipation.

"I think," I say slowly, "I might love you, too."

His breath catches. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." I smile.

“Does that mean I can say it now for real?”

“Sure.”

“I love you, Evelyn.”

"It's terrifying."

"Good." He kisses me softly. "That means we're doing it right."

"Is that a thing? Being scared means you're doing it right?"

"I have no idea. I've never done this before." He grins. "But it sounds good, doesn't it?"

I laugh, and this time it doesn't feel hysterical. It feels like relief. Like finally letting myself breathe after holding it in for too long.

"So what happens now?" I ask.

"Now?" He pulls me into his lap, arranging us so I'm tucked against his chest, his chin resting on top of my head. "We stop treating this like something temporary. We just... be married."

"Be married," I repeat. "Like, for real."

"For real. For as long as you'll have me."

I close my eyes, letting his heartbeat steady mine.

For as long as I'll have him.

“Forever sounds just about right,” I say.

He kisses the top of my head. “Precisely what I was thinking.”

epilogue

Mike

Six months later…

I've been planning this for weeks.

Which, for someone whose brain operates like a pinball machine on espresso, is saying something. I've kept secrets from investors, navigated hostile board meetings, and once talked my way out of a speeding ticket in Tokyo using nothing but enthusiastic hand gestures and a pocket translator. But keeping a secret from Evelyn?

That's been the hardest thing I've ever done.

She notices everything. It's the kindergarten teacher in her—years of scanning a room for the kid about to eat glue or the one plotting to flush someone's shoe down the toilet. Nothing gets past her.

And yet.