Page 54 of Dallas Rivals

I make my way slowly up to the house. Eliza spots me first and wraps me in one of her trademark hugs—the kind that nearly squeezes the air out of you.

“You okay?” I ask, rubbing her back.

“You know I am,” she says, voice trembling. “But when y’all didn’t come back, I almost had a heart attack. We thought the worst.”

“We’re fine,” I say, glancing toward Cala. She meets my eyes with a faint, tired smile.

“Perfect now that we know you’re both safe,” Lucien adds, holding his daughter’s hand while his wife steadies his wheelchair.

“I’m real sorry about the house,” I tell him, scanning the field again. “I’ll start going through the wreckage today—see what we can salvage.”

Cala takes a sharp breath and covers her mouth with both hands, her eyes fixed on the empty space where her house used to be. It’s like she’s just realizing it’s gone.

My instinct pushes me to go to her, but before I can, that Roger guy steps in and pulls her into his arms.

“It’s okay, everything’s gonna be fine,” he murmurs, rubbing her back.

I can feel Lucien’s eyes burning into the side of my head, and when I glance his way, he’s watching the scene with one eyebrow raised.

“Eliza will help us find a hotel,” Lucien says. “Though, with all the damage around here, I assume every room in town’s already taken.”

“No way. You’re all staying here until we can rebuild.”

Lucien doesn’t say a word, but I can see the way his eyes glisten with emotion before he quickly hides it by looking down. I rest a hand on his shoulder and give him a couple of pats meant to calm him down.

Eliza immediately takes charge of the situation, as always. She starts sorting everything out—offers her own room since it’s the only one on the ground floor, and says she’ll move upstairs with Cala.

“There are enough rooms for everyone,” I say, trying to sound casual, though even I can hear the edge in my tone. My words are meant to sound practical, but I know damn well my intentions aren’t that saintly. “For now, what we all need is a hot shower and a bed. It’s been a long night.”

I glance sideways at Cala. Her cheeks are so flushed they could rival the sunset, and I can’t help the small, smug satisfaction that creeps up my chest knowing she’s thinking the same thing I am—even with her ex-boyfriend still hovering nearby.

Why the hell is he still here?

I grab Lucien’s wheelchair and push him toward the house, with his wife and Eliza following close behind. As I walk away, I hear Cala’s voice behind me.

“Roger, I’m gonna help my parents get settled. Can we talk later? I’m really tired.”

That smirk on my face stretches a little wider as I keep walking.

After what felt like endless calls with the insurance company, I finally got an agent to come out and inspect the damage.

A man in his fifties stands there, staring at what used to be the Saint-Clairs’ house like he’s trying to decide whether it’s really totaled or not.

Christ… it’s nothing but splintered boards and debris. What the hell else does he need to see?

Cala stands a few feet behind us, arms crossed, staring at her ruined belongings. I don’t think she’s the kind of woman who cares much about material things—but no one’s immune to the gut punch of seeing their life reduced to rubble.

From where I’m standing, I can make out torn, rain-soaked clothes, ruined books, and that damn bed—completely shattered.

I clear my throat before speaking.

“Do you need anything else?” I press, trying to keep the impatience out of my voice.

I just want him gone so I can see if there’s anything worth saving.

“No, no,” he says, scribbling something onto a form. “You can start rebuilding. The insurance office will contact you shortly to finish the paperwork.”

I shake his hand, help him into the Rover, and drive him back to his truck. When I return, Cala’s still there, nudging through debris with the tip of her boot, trying to see what’s left underneath.