British Big Shot: A Hero Club Novel

Home > Other > British Big Shot: A Hero Club Novel > Page 1
British Big Shot: A Hero Club Novel Page 1

by J. H. Croix




  British Big-Shot

  A Cocky Hero Club Novel

  JH Croix

  Contents

  Introduction

  1. Jasper

  2. Anna

  3. Jasper

  4. Anna

  5. Jasper

  6. Anna

  7. Jasper

  8. Anna

  9. Jasper

  10. Anna

  11. Jasper

  12. Anna

  13. Jasper

  14. Anna

  15. Jasper

  16. Anna

  17. Jasper

  18. Anna

  19. Jasper

  20. Anna

  21. Jasper

  22. Anna

  23. Jasper

  24. Anna

  25. Jasper

  26. Anna

  27. Jasper

  28. Anna

  29. Jasper

  30. Anna

  31. Jasper

  32. Anna

  33. Jasper

  34. Anna

  35. Jasper

  36. Jasper

  37. Anna

  38. Jasper

  39. Anna

  40. Jasper

  41. Anna

  42. Jasper

  43. Anna

  44. Anna

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2021 J.H. Croix and Cocky Hero Club, Inc.

  All rights reserved.

  Cover design by Najla Qamber Designs

  Cover Photography: Wander Aguiar

  Cover model: Andrew Biernat

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  Introduction

  British Big-Shot is a standalone story inspired by Vi Keeland and Penelope Ward’s novels, Cocky Bastard and British Bedmate. It's published as part of the Cocky Hero Club world, a series of original works, written by various authors, and inspired by Keeland and Ward's New York Times bestselling series.

  Chapter One

  Jasper

  “Come again?”

  My solicitor lifted his head. “You cannot sell the stake in that business without a written agreement from the current owner. You’re also required to visit in person and stay on-site for a month in order to obtain such an agreement.”

  I stared at him. “That’s insane. There must be a way around that.”

  “I’m afraid not.”

  Three weeks later

  I slowed to turn down the driveway. I couldn’t believe I was in California visiting a winery to try to persuade a woman who had yet to reply to a single one of my emails that I wanted to sell my company’s stake in her business. Sunflowers & Wine happened to be the name.

  Climbing out of my car a few minutes later, I looked around. It was rather bucolic. There was a quaint barn with a rustic-looking fence with flowers spilling out of boxes mounted on the railings and winding around the posts.

  I was scanning the area when I heard the sound of running. The pace didn’t sound human. Turning, I was greeted by the sight of two goats wearing sweaters and running straight for me.

  “What the—”

  One of the little goats head-butted me in the calf. “Bloody hell! What are you doing?”

  That question was directed at another goat who was chewing on the bottom of my slacks.

  I shook my leg free. Exactly why I would be selling my company stake in this. Goats? What had my grandfather been thinking?

  I began approaching the barn only to hear a feminine voice calling, “Jasper!”

  How in the world did this woman even know my name?

  Turning toward the sound of the voice, I saw a woman coming around the corner of the large barn.

  “Oh!” She came to a complete stop as we stared at each other across the gravel. One of the goats bumped my calf again. “Jasper, stop it,” she admonished.

  I doubted that the goat would listen.

  “Excuse me?” I prompted.

  “I’m sorry about Jasper,” she said. “He likes to butt people with his head. It’s just his way of greeting you. I promise he means no harm.”

  “You’re talking about the goat?”

  The woman nodded as she began to walk toward me. A zing of electricity sizzled up my spine. This woman was startlingly beautiful. She had a riot of strawberry blond curls that glinted under the sun. She was wearing overalls, which did absolutely nothing to hide the fitted tank top underneath and her generous curves.

  Stopping in front of me, she rested her hand on her hip, blinking her big brown eyes up at me. I took in the dusting of freckles on her cheeks and her thick auburn lashes. “Can I help you?” she asked.

  “I’m not sure. I’m looking for Anna Lennon.”

  The open, welcoming expression on her face shifted slightly, tilting toward suspicion. “Whatever for?” she asked, her tone careful.

  “It’s a business matter.” I sensed she was Anna although I didn’t press the matter.

  She looked away, catching her bottom lip in her teeth, denting the plump, pink surface and sending an unexpected jolt through my body.

  I might’ve been focusing so much on work lately that I haven’t had much time to date, but this kind of reaction was startling. I wasn’t generally interested in women who wore overalls and spoke to goats like personal friends.

  The woman’s gaze swung back to me, those brown eyes narrowing. “What is the business matter?”

  “I would like to speak with Ms. Lennon about it.”

  She let out a little huff. “I am Anna Lennon. And you are?” Her brow arched up as she stared at me.

  “Jasper, Jasper West. Certainly, you’re aware I own half this farm. Considering you’re the other owner, I would assume you knew that.”

  “I’m fully aware of the business arrangement,” she said, her tone sharp. “What brings you here, Jasper?”

  “I’d like to sell. My grandfather’s will stipulated that I needed to meet you and obtain your written agreement in order to do so. Hence, I have flown all the way from England to have this conversation with you. I assume you received my emails inquiring about this?”

  This woman got under my skin, and I didn’t know why. Her eyes narrowed, and she crossed her arms over her chest. I assumed she was trying to look angry, yet the motion had the unintended result of plumping up her generous breasts.

  I opened my mouth to say something else only to have the other Jasper bump me with his head. It was hard enough that I lost my balance, and my foot landed in a mud puddle.

  I bit back a curse. “Could you please do something about your goat?”

  Chapter Two

  Anna

  I had to bite the insides of my cheeks to keep from laughing. The snooty Jasper West had one of his nice shoes in a mud puddle.

  Jasper, my goat—who I did not name after this Jasper—head-butted the other Jasper in the calf again.

  Jasper lifted his head and eyed me. “Please.”

  God, he was still managing to be polite, and that crisp British accent did crazy things to my insides. I took a breath. “He lives here.”

  I didn’t know why I felt so contrary, but having this British big shot show up and try to tell me what t
o do rankled me. My response to him also annoyed me.

  Jasper West was too hot for his own good and most certainly for mine. He had rumpled black curls and piercing green eyes with a seriously built body. I’d never thought a suit was all that sexy, but on him, the fabric practically made love to his lean body. His navy suit fit his sculpted shoulders perfectly. Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, he wasn’t wearing a tie. He had unbuttoned the top of his shirt, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of bronzed skin dusted with dark hair.

  Jasper arched a brow before shaking his head. “Fine. Is there somewhere we could talk that doesn’t involve the company of your goats and a mud puddle?”

  I wanted to refuse, but I knew that was unreasonable. No matter how I felt about it, he did, in fact, own half the farm. This farm was all I had. When my grandmother died, I’d been startled to learn she didn’t own it completely. I’d been praying Jasper West would leave me in peace, just as his grandfather had.

  Since he had to have my agreement, I had some leverage, but he could certainly make it miserable for me if he chose.

  “Follow me,” I finally said.

  Turning, I felt rather frumpy as I crossed the gravel parking area. I was in overalls and rubber boots with my hair pulled up in a messy ponytail. Meanwhile, I had a sexy British guy dripping with money in his suit following me. Le sigh.

  I silently sent up a prayer of thanks to my gram. She’d taken the money Jasper’s grandfather had invested and renovated the old barn into a beautiful winery. It was the shining glory of this flower and vineyard hodgepodge of a business she’d created. Though terribly curious about why Jasper’s grandfather gave her all that money, I wasn’t about to start by pestering him about that.

  “Are you open for business?” Jasper asked as I led him through a side door into the main building at the vineyard.

  “Not today,” I called over my shoulder. “We’re closed on Mondays. You can be assured I don’t usually wear rubber boots and my overalls when we’re open.” I slipped out of my rubber boots, leaving them in a tray by the door before stepping into a clean pair of clogs.

  “I wasn’t sure you were actually traveling here,” I said as I began walking down the hallway with him at my side.

  “Why wouldn’t I?”

  “Why would you?” I countered as we stepped into the tasting area for the Sunflowers & Wine. My grandmother had named the vineyard and flower business after her two favorite things. It was that simple.

  When Jasper stopped and scanned the room, I tried to see how he might view the place. The old barn had been renovated drastically. The back portion of the downstairs was where the winemaking happened and was out of view from this area. The former hayloft had been turned into a small apartment where I now lived.

  This area was the front portion of the barn. The old wide plank hardwood floors had been refinished to a sheen. The former horse stalls had been transformed into a bar, but it was obvious what they once were with the front of the bar made from the refinished stall doors.

  The room was pretty and airy with sunshine falling in wide shafts through the windows. Jasper’s eyes, piercing and disconcerting, finally made their way back to mine. “It’s lovely,” he said with a subtle dip of his chin.

  “What did you expect?” As soon as I spoke, I hated the sharp tone of defensiveness in my voice. Jasper didn’t know I was close to broke. Even though I could argue that I didn’t want him to sell, I was in over my head and drowning in debt.

  “Anna, I had no idea what to expect. My grandfather passed away, and it’s been about six months of sorting through his affairs. This is one of many investments he had. In order to sell, I had to come meet you, and you have to agree. I also need to stay here for a full month.”

  Um, what fresh hell was this?

  “You have to stay here for a month?”

  Jasper’s eyes searched mine, and it felt like he was using an X-ray to see into my brain. I turned away, curling my arms around my waist as I crossed over to look out the windows.

  Because, apparently, he was not as unsettled by me as I was by him, he followed me over, the sound of his footsteps a quiet echo in the space. When he stopped beside me, I stole a peek at him as he looked out the windows. From this side of the barn, you could see the vineyards stretching out, and then the flower fields over to one side. Although it was late afternoon, the sun was still so bright the blue background was washed out.

  “It’s beautiful here,” he commented.

  “It is.”

  I waited, mostly because I wasn’t sure what to say next. I couldn’t believe he was supposed to spend a month here. I wanted to tell him he couldn’t stay, but technically, he owned as much as I did here.

  “My solicitor tells me you inherited this place from your grandmother. Were you close?” he queried.

  “Yeah.” My heart twinge felt a sting of grief. I missed Gram. “She’s been gone a year now. She mostly raised me.”

  I felt Jasper’s eyes on me, so I finally turned to face him. I wasn’t going to be a coward. “Were you close to your grandfather?” I asked, preferring to put the focus on him.

  His nod was quick and decisive. “He mostly raised me,” he replied, mirroring my words.

  Not sure how to guide this awkward conversation, I shifted gears. “Would you like something to eat or drink?” I finally asked, needing something to do with myself.

  “That would be nice,” he said, the picture of polite.

  Of course, I didn’t miss the questioning glint in his eyes. Screw Mr. British big shot.

  I might be wearing overalls and have goats and not have enough money to get myself out of the situation I’d inherited, but I could cook. Plus, the wine-tasting kitchen was filled with hors d’oeuvres extravaganza. That was one area of the winery that paid for itself.

  “Follow me.” I gestured as I turned and crossed the room. I led Jasper behind the bar and into our kitchen. We didn’t have a restaurant, but we had wine-tasting events every week. We had those cute little sandwiches and dips and gourmet cheeses and crackers and more. All of it sourced locally, of course.

  This area of the barn was a little more comfortable for me and not so fancy. When I glanced over to see Jasper standing beside the counter and surveying the room, I almost laughed. We were a pair of opposites, that was for sure. Me in my overalls, and him in his suit.

  He was quiet. The kitchen had all stainless-steel appliances, purchased with the money from his grandfather. A small table sat in the corner where I grabbed breakfast down here on occasion.

  “Coffee?” I asked.

  Jasper shook his wrist lightly before pushing up his sleeve and glancing at his watch. “I’d rather taste the wine if you don’t mind.”

  God, everything he said came out so crisp. He gave off a grumpy, annoyed vibe as though he couldn’t wait to shake off this experience. Whatever. We had amazing wine. My grandmother made magic with it, and I learned everything I knew from her.

  “Of course,” I said with a tight smile. “Would you like red or white wine?”

  “I’ll take a red.”

  After fetching some wine, I pulled out one of the hors d’oeuvre trays left over from last night’s tasting. Crossing the room, I set the tray down with two plates and uncorked the wine.

  Jasper lifted the wine bottle. “I admit to enjoying wine, but I’ve never been to an official wine tasting. Is this when people usually smell it?” he asked as I handed over the wineglass.

  I shrugged, adjusting a strap on my overalls. “Some people do. As much as I love wine, I don’t tend to bother.”

  He responded with an arch of his brow before pouring some wine into both glasses and taking a swallow from his. My eyes lingered on the motion of his throat. He was too handsome. The shadow of his stubble highlighted the sharp lines of his jaw. Of course, his cheekbones were impeccable as well, almost elegant in their bold angles. His eyes were intense. The only thing that wasn’t model-worthy was his nose, which was a little crooked.r />
  “Did you break your nose?” As usual, my words tumbled out before I could snatch them back.

  He stared at me for a beat, his lips twitching slightly. “Yes. Playing rugby in school.”

  “Do you still play?”

  “Here and there for fun only. It’s not something I have much time for.”

  “I suppose you’re busy chasing down your investments and trying to persuade them to sell. How many of these arrangements did your grandfather leave behind?” I asked, my voice a little sharper than I intended.

  Jasper took another swallow of wine. “This is delicious.” I felt a flush of pride before he continued. “To your question, this is the only one. I don’t know why he purchased half of this business. I don’t even know if I’ll know after I spend a month here.”

  “Where do you plan to stay?” My heart banged against my ribs, and my belly flipped over when he gave me another one of those intense looks. I didn’t really like him, yet my body was ignoring my mind. He was just all too yummy.

  “The will stipulates that I stay at the actual vineyard. I thought perhaps you could let me know what my options were here.”

  Options?

  There were no options. This barn had an upstairs where I stayed, the greenhouse, and then the barn where my goats and chickens lived. Somehow, I doubted he’d appreciate the limited options I had.

 

‹ Prev