Page 127 of Falling for the Billionaire Best Man

We sat at the dining table, the takeout containers spread out between us, steam rising from the noodles and dumplings. I twirled a forkful of lo mein, still in disbelief this was all happening.

“So, what do you want to bring here first? Besides you, obviously.”

She smiled, popping a dumpling into her mouth before answering. “Plants, definitely. Not my couch. Definitely all my baking dishes. I’m not married to my mismatched plates and cups.”

“We can throw everything out and start fresh,” I offered. “We can go shopping and pick out all new dishes.”

“No need to do that,” she said with a laugh. “That seems wasteful. I don’t care what plate I eat off of. I think your furniture is all very nice. If I can’t get out of my lease, I could sublet a furnished unit. That’s always a big hit.”

“Good idea,” I said. “Whatever you want.”

“There is something I want to bring,” she said. “More like I need to bring.”

“Sure, what?”

“Rick.”

I stared at her, the chopsticks in my hand hovering mid-air. “Rick?” I repeated, as if I hadn’t heard her correctly. “As in, your demon cat with a personal vendetta against me? That Rick?”

Dorie smiled, that soft, amused smile that always made it impossible for me to stay mad. “Yes, that Rick. He’s my cat, Kaisen. He’s part of the package.”

I groaned, letting the noodles drop back onto the plate. “Dorie, that cat hates me. He glares at me like I’ve personally offended every feline on the planet. Last time I was at your place, he hissed at me for breathing too loudly. Every time I think we’re friends, he turns on me.”

She laughed, leaning back in her chair. “He’s just protective. Once he gets used to you⁠—”

“In the few weeks I’ve known him, he’s gotten worse. He’s not protective; he’s a furry little sociopath. He changes moods more than I change my socks.”

“Kaisen,” she said, her tone both teasing and firm. “He’s coming with me. End of story.”

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “Fine. Fine! But just know, if he scratches my leather couch or pees on my favorite shoes⁠—”

“He won’t,” she interrupted.

“—I’m getting a dog to even things out,” I finished.

She burst out laughing, nearly spilling her water. “A dog? You? Kaisen, you don’t even like dogs.”

“I like them more than Rick,” I muttered, stabbing a dumpling with my chopstick. “At least dogs are predictable. They wag their tails, they fetch, they don’t plot your demise while pretending to nap.”

Dorie shook her head, still grinning. “Rick’s not that bad. You just need to bond with him. Maybe if you stopped staring at him like he’s about to pounce on you, he’d relax a little.”

“He is about to pounce on me!” I argued, pointing my chopstick at her for emphasis. “He’s always two seconds away from launching himself at my face. I swear, the moment I let my guard down⁠—”

“He’s never attacked me. Not really. He has his cat tree and toys.”

“Another cat then,” I said. “I’ll visit the shelters tomorrow to find something as emotionally disturbed as Rick, so he has a friend. Maybe then he’ll leave me alone.”

She laughed again. “Works for me. Hopefully, they don’t gang up on us.”

I groaned. “I didn’t think of that.”

We finished our dinner, and I helped her finish unpacking. Later that evening, we sat on the balcony, enjoying a glass of wine and watching the city lights. Dorie was wearing the earrings I’d given her.

“They look good on you,” I said when she caught me staring.

She smiled, touching one of the earrings. “You have a keen understanding of what I’d like. Impeccable style.”

“My mom left them for me. For the woman I’d fall in love with. And when I gave them to you… I knew. I knew you were it for me, Dorie.”

Tears filled her eyes, and she reached for my hand, squeezing it tightly. “I love you, Kaisen.”