The Best Friend's Billionaire Brother (Caprock Canyon Romance Book 1) Page 17

  “Four hours? What did they use? Curlers harvested from the tips of Mount Everest?”

  “No, and shut up.”

  His shoulders bounced as he laughed. “I’m just messing with you. You’re so pretty you made your husband cry.”

  “Now was that so hard?”

  “I think I died a little inside.”

  She huffed and leaned in. “Don’t you waste another minute of time, Wyatt West. You got me?”

  He knew exactly what she meant, and now that he had her blessing, he knew exactly what he was going to do. Winding through the crowd, he found Gabby to Hunter.

  Gabby turned to Wyatt. “Hey.”

  “Would you like to dance?”

  “I’d love to.”

  When they reached the dance floor, he slid his arm around her waist and held her close. “I’ve been thinking a lot about the new year.”

  “Yeah, I bet you have. Retiring from bull riding is a big deal.”

  “Nah, not about that.” He chuckled. “You and me.”

  “Us?”

  “I’m buying the orchard from Bear. We’ve been working out the details, and as soon as the world goes back to business, we’re making it official.”

  She gasped. “Really?”

  “Yeah, but it’s missing a piece. A really crucial part of the whole thing.”

  “What? Did you find out something was wrong?”

  Wyatt shook his head. “No.” He went down to one knee. “You’re the crucial part. I don’t want the orchard without you. I’d really like it to be our home; our venture; our blood, sweat, and tears mingled together. It’s not home without you.”

  Gabby touched her fingers to her mouth. “Wyatt.”

  “Say yes. Please say yes. You’re my best friend, and you’re the only best friend I want. Now and forever.” He pulled out the small box he’d hidden in his tux and flipped it open. “Will you please marry me?”

  She gasped and nodded as tears ran down her cheeks. “Yes.”

  He slipped the ring on her finger, stood, and grabbed her by the waist, swinging her around. “Yes!”

  The guests clapped and hollered.

  “It’s about time,” Bear called out.

  Wyatt set Gabby down and held her tight. “I love you.”

  “I love you.”

  He touched his lips to hers as fireworks blasted behind them. His new year was already starting better than any other year. He had Gabby and a plan for more than eight seconds.

  * * *

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  Hunter West meets his match in The Fake Fiancé’s Billionaire Adversary. Reagan Loveless loves her home and she’s not selling. They’re on opposite sides, but will some Christmas cheer bring these two together? Turn the page to read the first chapter!

  Sneak Peek! The Fake Fiancé’s Billionaire Adversary Chapter 1

  Stretching his sore arms above his head, Hunter West ignored the snaps and pops his joints were making. He wasn’t even sure why he was still pushing himself like this. A little over a year ago, he’d become a billionaire. That one little lottery ticket had changed his bank account, but not his mindset. As his dad would say, the fruit of a man’s labor is what keeps him young.

  Besides, hard work had never bothered him. If anything, he loved flipping houses because it made him feel good to see the finished product and know it was his hands that did it. More importantly, it hid his winnings from the lottery. After seeing what happened with his older brother, Bear, he worked to keep his fortune hidden. Hunter didn’t want the heartache of loving someone only to find out they wanted his money and not him.

  As of late, he’d begun to wonder if his mindset didn’t need a little adjusting. The joints in his thirty-four-year-old six-foot frame seemed to be hinting it might be time to call it quits. In Hunter’s case, it wasn’t the age but the mileage that had him thinking about hanging up his hammer and settling down, hopefully in the bed and breakfast he wanted to buy a few miles away.

  “Paint’s done,” his partner, Stone, said as he stopped in the doorway of the bathroom Hunter was working on.

  Hunter twisted at the waist to ease some of the soreness in his lower back. His shower would be hotter than usual tonight. “Yeah, Ryan told me. You knocking off for the day?” Ryan was their contractor. He’d joined the company three years ago at about the age when Hunter had started flipping houses.

  “No. I want to check on that other property we’re doing demo on this week.” His partner’s response wasn’t surprising. They were always working on more than one project at a time.

  In a blink, he was back to thinking about the local beachfront bed and breakfast he’d passed more than once since he’d arrived on Tybee Island, Georgia. Talk about a project. That place needed almost as much work as the houses they typically flipped.

  According to rumors, The Sandy Pelican B&B wouldn’t survive much longer, and it would be on the auction block. More than once, he’d caught himself fantasizing about what he’d do with the place if he bought it. Did he flip it or restore it? The latter was becoming more and more appealing. Settling down, a wife, kids, and the beach right outside his back door. Retiring from this back-breaking work.

  That’s, of course, if he managed to purchase the place. The retiring part of the equation was selling his half of Stone-West Housing. Hunter wasn’t too bad at negotiations. Maybe he’d convince the owner of the B&B to sell it to him before it went under and then approach Stone about what to do with Hunter’s half of the business. He didn’t have to sell it. Winning the lottery gave him the option to keep it and hire someone, but when he retired, he wanted to be retired, not managing a flipping business.

  Now, if he had the bed and breakfast, that would be different. Staying put, enjoying island life, and renting out a room now and then…there wouldn’t be the stress of deadlines and permits. It would be just him and his shanty by the sea.

  But selling his half of the business was a conversation for another day. “Is something wrong, or are you just checking up on it?” Hunter asked.

  “Just making sure the demo is on schedule,” Stone said.

  They were a good team, and that’s what made them as successful as they were. Stone was brilliant with demolition and the final touches. Hunter’s skill was everything in the middle. He loved his job, but he had to admit, it wouldn’t take a lot of convincing to give up the long hours and tough physical labor. Something that wasn’t happening before Thanksgiving.

  He wouldn’t be skipping this year either. His mother had gone to great lengths to pull a promise from him, and he wouldn’t let her down. Which meant twelve-hour days were in his future. That was the only way he could see this house finished by the time he left.

  Hunter checked his progress on the tile and sighed. “Yeah, I guess I’ll clean up here and call it a day. It’s not long before the sun sets.”

  Stone left, and Ryan took his spot in the doorway.

  “I’m thinking you have questions for me,” said Hunter.

  Ryan waited a beat, seeming unsure if he should ask the question. “I was wondering if I could maybe talk to you sometime about how you got into flipping houses. That is, if you don’t mind.”

  Chuckling, Hunter began tucking his tools into the bucket he used to keep them together. He had a larger toolbox, but the bucket with pouches on the side worked much better for him on the job site. “No, I wouldn’t mind.”

  “Awesome. Thanks. I’ll see you tomorrow,” Ryan said and gave a two-finger salute as he left.

  Once Hunter was sure he had all his tools, he took a quick tour of the house and then locked up. Before getting into his pickup, he set the tool bucket on the floor behind the driver’s seat. One of the first things he’d tell Ryan was that leaving tools out was a sure-fire way to lose them to a five-finger discount. Keeping his tools safe w
ould save him countless hours of frustration.

  He climbed into his truck and paused for a moment, enjoying the comfort of sitting. Yeah, it was a long, hot shower kind of night. He sighed, starting his vehicle and backing out of the driveway. The sun was just barely peeking over the horizon. It had been another long day.

  On the way to his hotel a little farther inland, his thoughts drifted to the picturesque seaside bed and breakfast. When he’d first arrived on the island, he’d missed the cute little place on his drive to one of the worksites. That evening he’d noticed it, though, it had been like a lighthouse, drawing him in.

  He’d stopped by, and the owner had assumed he was a guest spending the night. Instead of correcting her, he’d happily followed her all over the home. It had been a little awkward when she’d found out after, but it had been worth whatever lame excuse he’d thrown out at the time.

  From what he’d learned, the last big hurricane had really beaten the place up. The paint was peeling. The wraparound porch needed some new boards. In his head, he’d made a list of things to fix inside and tallied the bill. He’d felt it was worth every penny to enjoy the little slice of heaven it would offer.

  Not only had the property made an impression on him that day but also the owner, Reagan Loveless. Man, even now he could still remember the shocked look on her face when he’d made an off-the-cuff offer to buy the place after stopping in a few times. It had been the wrong move, even after waiting a while to inquire, and he’d known it the moment her shock turned to anger. The petite woman had pulled back her shoulders, crossed her arms over her chest, and told him it would never be for sale. It had been in her family for decades, and it was going to stay that way.

  Since that night, neither the bed and breakfast nor Reagan had been far from his thoughts. Not only was the property appealing, but she was too. Blonde hair that touched the tops of her shoulders, fiery dark eyes. She was the very definition of perfection when it came to Hunter’s ideal woman. Not only was she beautiful, but she had the brain to go with it.

  If only he were in the market for a girlfriend, but it wasn’t the right time. Other than money, he didn’t have anything to offer a woman yet. He was still working long days, and his attention was on his business. No, he didn’t have to work, but he wanted to. He’d worked hard to build the company with Stone. Hunter wasn’t quite ready to give it up.

  As The Sandy Pelican came into view, he slowed to a stop. A single light cast a glow through the window onto the railing. Reagan was working in the office which was near the kitchen. In a split-second decision, which he’d probably regret later, he turned off the road onto the winding driveway leading to the front of the house, parked, and walked to the steps.

  Hopefully, he wasn’t intruding, but this place spoke to him. Hunter couldn’t put a finger on why, but it felt like home to him. He could see a future with a wife and kids. Not that he thought he was ready for all that, but it didn’t shake the idea of what could be.

  That’s if he could somehow convince the stubborn owner to sell it to him. Maybe if he shared his vision with Reagan, she’d be more amiable to letting it go. He didn’t want to tear it down and build a strip mall. His plan was to just update it a little. Maybe put a porch swing up so he could drink his coffee and watch the sunrise of a morning.

  He got out of his pickup, slowly making his way to the bottom of the steps. “I could do so much with you.” He laid his hand on the worn step railing. With a little love, he could bring the old home back to its former glory.

  Of course, the only response was a soft breeze. In the distance, he could hear the waves crashing and the whisper-like foam soaking into the sand.

  He sighed and continued up the steps. He was hoping for the best and preparing for a firm no. With luck, that’s all he’d get. Then again, he was at least a foot taller than Reagan. Unless she was pretty flexible, his backside was safe from her small foot.

  Sneak Peek! Her Pretend Billionaire Boyfriend Chapter 1

  Tristan Stone swiveled his chair away from the boardroom table and looked out over the Seattle skyline. The sun glinted off the windows of the Space Needle while a white-capped Mount Rainier stood in the background. He wished he was there, on the top of the mountain, and not dwelling on the board meeting that had just ended. He didn’t want to think about the dozen or so men and women who’d argued about which direction his grandmother would’ve wanted him to take the cruise line he’d inherited.

  He missed her.

  Find someone to love, sweetheart. Not all women will want you for your money. His grandmother’s words were like a megaphone in his head. He could still feel the aged hand touching his cheek and see the wrinkled face smiling up at him. Even while she was sick, she’d been thinking of him.

  He’d tried to convince her he didn’t feel lonely, but she could always see through him. Three months, and not a day went by that he didn’t miss her laughter and wisdom.

  “Tristan!” Grayson Matthews’s voice broke through his thoughts. “Are you listening to me?”

  “No,” he said without taking his eyes off the skyline.

  “Nice. Real nice.” Grayson huffed, pulling a chair directly in front of him and sitting backward in it.

  Tristan leveled his eyes at him. “What?”

  “That board meeting was out of control. Why didn’t you do anything?”

  Why? Because he didn’t want to do anything. His grandmother wasn’t even cold, and vultures were circling. “My head isn’t here.” He had tasks to finish for his grandma. One of which was taking a cruise on the last cruise ship she’d designed so he could spread her ashes over the ocean.

  Grayson’s icy blue eyes softened. “Buddy, I know you miss her, but if you want this company to continue, you’re going to have to bring that alpha dog reputation you’ve created to the table.”

  Alpha dog. Tristan snorted. “I know, but this is different. I’m not buying up a company. This was her company. A company…people…I promised to take care of.” He was used to taking over companies, bulldozing over anything that got in the way of making it successful and turning it into a thriving business. This was different. He’d made a solemn vow to take care of her employees, among other things. Things he wasn’t willing to tell his best friend.

  “Listen, man, I know you were close to her, but…”

  Tristan stood and raked a hand through his dark-brown hair. “I’m not selling this company. I’ll buy out everyone’s shares if I have to. I don’t care if I go bankrupt keeping it.” He closed his eyes. He wasn’t just close to his grandmother. Other than Grayson and his Aunt Felicia, she was the only person he trusted to love him for more than just his money.

  The chair squeaked as Grayson stood. “Maybe you should take a vacation. Get out of here, get some fresh air, grieve. Come back when you’re ready to make some hard decisions.”

  Grayson continued when he didn’t respond. “Seriously, take one. Two weeks. What can possibly happen in two weeks without you here? It’s been three months, and nothing’s changed yet.” Grayson grasped his shoulder and turned him around. “You took care of her the last eight months of her life. I know it had to be hard on you. Taking a break will help.”

  Tristan did like the idea. The stress of taking care of a loved one was worse than he ever imagined. The last month or so, his grandma didn’t even know who he was. She’d look at him with a blank expression most of the time, and when she was even remotely coherent, she’d call him by his father’s name, Thomas.

  He had promised his grandma that he’d take a cruise and spread her ashes. May as well get it done. He could check that off the list. “Maybe you’re right.”

  Grayson smiled and pulled out his phone. “Ohhh, I’m going to need you to say that again. I want to record it and replay it when you’re being arrogant and egotistical.”

  “I’m not arrogant or egotistical. I’m just right all the time.” Tristan chuckled.

  His friend’s eyes widened. “Let me take care of it. I’v
e got the perfect place in mind. Hot women, warm sand, cool clear water. I can even picture it. The two of us, lounging on some tropical oasis and sipping fruity drinks that come in pineapples.” He pulled up the search engine on his phone. “Cheesy, but tasty.”

  Tristan rubbed his knuckles down his jaw. “No, I want to go somewhere no one will recognize me. I want to be left alone.” He wanted to be Tristan. Not Tristan Stone the billionaire. He wanted to feel normal. For once, he wanted to be just one of the guys. An idea began to form.

  “You might try Mars, then. You’re a thirty-one-year-old billionaire, and you’re in every socialite paper known to man. And with that baby face of yours? Good luck.” Grayson laughed.

  “I could grow a beard.” The words popped out of Tristan’s mouth. What? He hated beards. They were itchy.

  Grayson lifted an eyebrow. “You? Dude, you tried that remember? A five o’clock shadow nearly had you in a straightjacket.”

  That was true, but if it could give him some anonymity, maybe it was worth it. “I’ll try again.” And if he went undercover on the cruise ship, maybe he could get a better understanding of the company.

  “Okay, if you think you can.” Grayson’s lack of confidence didn’t help.

  Tristan tugged on his dark-gray suit coat, straightening it. “And I want to go alone. I think I need it.”

  His best friend’s face fell. “What? But I’m your wingman, your right-hand dude, your mate, your—”

  “I know. Normally, I’d want you to come, but I really think I need some time alone.” Plus, he didn’t want Grayson to know what he was really planning.

  Grayson eyed him and then huffed. “Fine, but you owe me a paradise getaway with hot women.”

  “Aren’t you dating that model? What’s her name?” Tristan wracked his brain. Grayson had a new girlfriend every five seconds. “Gwen Hanover.”