Love Redesigned (Lakefront Billionaires, #1)

by Lauren Asher

To those whose love language is words of affirmation. Your praise kink is safe with me (and Julian Lopez).

“What were you thinking by trying to run Dahlia off the road?” “That it’s a shame I failed.”

A haircut was what the doctor ordered after my heartbreak, along with a bottle of Zoloft to keep the sadness at bay.

There was nothing I wanted more than my mom’s hugs and her unwavering belief that Vicks VapoRub will cure everything, including a broken heart.

My mom swears Julian has never let money go to his head, but I bet he struggles with an insufferable ego and a god complex.

Your therapist would be proud of you for noticing the positives.

I struggle against the heaviness threatening to consume me, only to fail as I spare a glance at the first man who broke my heart. It took him nineteen years to earn it and only six words to obliterate it. And I don’t plan on forgetting that.

“I hope you’re not planning all the ways you can torture me already.” Her half-hearted tease lacks any oomph. “Torturing you is my favorite pastime.”

Screw guys in backward ball caps and gray sweatpants. Men in hard hats and work boots are my new kink, thanks to Construction Ken standing in front of me with muscular arms and killer cheekbones.

My pulse quickens. “Why would you think that?” “Because, like him, it was stuffy, obnoxious, and represented everything he and his pretentious, cookie-cutter family stand for.”

I don’t enjoy silence as much as people think I do. In fact, I’ve grown to hate it over the years because it reminds me of what I lack.

Funny how confidence can take years to build and only a few interactions to destroy.

You’re playing with fire, my head warns. Wrong. I’m playing with something far more dangerous. Dahlia Isabella Muñoz.

I rub my hands together with a big, goofy smile. “Nothing gets me buzzing quite like finding out walls aren’t load-bearing.”

I’m hit with a bloody desire to fly out to San Francisco and introduce Oliver to my fist. My lawyer might hate me for it, but the satisfaction of his nose crunching beneath my knuckles would be well worth the settlement money.

“If you’re going to run your mouth, might as well do it with your lips wrapped around my dick.”

“If you have to change yourself to fit someone’s ideal version of you, then that’s not love.”

I battle between wanting to get out of bed and wishing I could disappear into the dark pit of despair threatening to swallow me whole. That’s the depression talking, I remind myself.

Two sweet gestures in a span of ten minutes? If this is the kind of treatment I get after a make-out session, I can’t imagine what will happen once I finally suck his cock.

I never realized how much I needed to see a shirtless Julian reading a book with glasses on, but I believe the image may have permanently altered my brain chemistry.

“Words of affirmation are my love language.” He wraps his hand around the back of my neck. “Explains why you love being called a good girl while riding my cock.”

“I’m falling in love with you, Dahlia. I don’t expect you to say it back after everything you’ve been through this year, but I didn’t want to go another night without you knowing how I feel. Just like I can’t go another day with you thinking I’m okay with us keeping things casual.” Por Dios. His eyes shimmer from the moon peeking through the clouds. “I missed out on a chance to make you mine before, but I don’t plan on making the same mistake again. We’re the real deal, sweetheart, and I’m done letting you believe anything else.”

“Turns out I’d rather build a home with you than a thousand houses by myself.”

“Little by little, your cons annoyingly started making their way over to the pros column.” Her laugh comes out like a half sob. “That’s ridiculous.” “No, Dahlia, that’s love.”

“I’ve been meaning to send his stuff back.” “You got his address wrong. Hell’s zip code is 666.”

“Keep talking like that and I’ll make your ass match the wrapping paper you chose.”