Kissing a Billionaire

by Hart, Taylor

  Taking this opportunity to sit in a chair next to the swing, he grinned. “My wife used to tell me I drove her crazy.”

  Their gazes held for a moment. He chastised himself for bringing up his memories. She wouldn’t know about her own past.

  “Anyway,” he said, standing to walk back into the house.

  “I bet she had cause to feel that way.”

  Her response surprised him, considering all the times he’d tried to get a rise out of her. “Yeah, she did sometimes.” Unable to stop himself, he turned back. “I think that’s the way things go in relationships. Sometimes you tend to drive each other crazy, even on purpose. She hated when I would sneak up on her when she was in the garden, but I loved it.” The memories made him laugh. “Boy, she would get me back. One time she set the hose on me right when I was coming out of the barn. And before I could respond, she took off on a horse.” He slapped his knee, chuckling. “She was smart.”

  The woman smiled back at him. It was so nice not to see pity on her face. Whenever he spoke of Brook to anyone, they would give him that sad look. But not this woman. “It sounds like you loved her,” she said. “Yet I think we should focus on my pain right now.”

  Her words surprised him. “What?”

  A small smile played at her lips. “Well, you just seemed like you didn’t want to talk about it.”

  It made him laugh. She was absolutely right. Respect for her washed through him. The woman was funny and smart. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  She looked down at her hands, and he noticed she’d bitten her nails down. “I’ll talk.”

  “Okay.” He moved to sit next to her again.

  She sucked in a slow breath. “Why hasn’t anyone come for me?” She looked up and searched his eyes. “Doesn’t anyone know me? Somewhere?”

  Touched by her very real troubles, he leaned back. “I don’t know, but it has been almost three days since I found you.”

  She let out a sigh. “Okay, maybe I was wrong. You’re not that soothing.”

  He smiled sadly. “Listen. I don’t have answers, obviously, but I do know that when you’re going through hard things, there really is always something good that comes out of it. Most of the time.” His mind flashed to his wife. “Even when it’s hard to see.”

  Her lip trembled. “I don’t think there’s anything good that could come out of a situation like this.”

  He stared at her, hoping she wouldn’t cry again. Unfortunately, he didn’t get his wish.

  “Would I even wear a wedding ring if I was married? Why can’t I remember anything?” Tears fell down her cheeks. “I’m sorry.” She sniffed and put her hand over her face.

  Hesitantly, he put his arm around her. Even if she was married or whatever, she was a person in pain. And he was a person trying to help her.

  At first she froze up. Then she leaned into his shoulder, crying harder.

  He held her like that for a long time.

  Finally she pulled away, and he moved his arm back. “Thank you,” she said, looking out into the fields.

  “Eggs Benedict.”

  “What?” she asked.

  “The something good that’s come of all of this.”

  She grunted, then shook her head.

  “What? I haven’t eaten good food like that in a long time. Like . . . ever. That was amazing.” He meant it.

  She laughed wildly. “I can see why your wife said you drove her crazy.”

  Nobody had ever talked about his wife like that. This felt different, and he felt himself loosen up and laugh too.

  After a bit, both of them still sat on the porch swing, but Ross didn’t feel nervous or worried about this woman being in his home any longer. “You can stay however long you need to stay.”

  Turning to him, she frowned, then blinked.

  “If you don’t cry,” he hastened to add.

  She laughed, even though she was clearly trying not to. “Thank you.”

  It was the right thing to do, he thought, seeing how broken she was at this moment. “I do have a question.”

  “If I can answer it, I will.”

  He hedged, then asked, “So what should I call you?”

  She let out a sigh. “I have no idea.”

  “That’s fine. I mean, I don’t have to say anything. It’s not like I have other women around.” This was coming out all wrong. “I mean, my daughter is coming home tomorrow, and I thought it’d be nice to have you decide on a name.”

  “Right, your daughter, Kinley.”

  “Yes.” Ross sighed. “Kinley was very concerned about you. She was actually the reason I ended up at the hospital that night when you woke up.”

  “Really?”

  He laughed and told her about how Kinley was very stubborn and then prayed for her. “She even refused her favorite pizza place if she couldn’t go to the hospital first.”

  “Then I’ll have to make her the best pizza she’ll ever have,” she said, smiling.

  “How do you remember how to cook?”

  She looked baffled. “I wish I knew.”

  With another nod, he leaned back. He could only imagine how frustrating it would be not to know who you were. “I could call you Red.”

  She frowned, then cocked an eyebrow. “How come I feel like that wouldn’t be very original?”

  He grunted. “Then what?”

  Not answering for a moment, she leaned back, and their shoulders lightly touched. Attraction pulsed through him, and he scooted a bit away from her, self-conscious. When she met his eyes, he wondered if she felt it too.

  He chastised himself for even thinking about it. No. This woman was just a guest he was helping out. He stood. “Should we go in?”

  She thought for a moment, then shrugged. “Red works. Because nothing else sounds right in my mind.”

  “Okay, Red it is.” The decision made his heart lift. Maybe meeting this woman, being here in this moment with her, might be the something good in this whole situation. Maybe he was making a friend.

  She stood, and as they walked into the house, he held the door for her. The trouble was, he didn’t think he wanted just another friend.

  Kinley arrived the next afternoon. Ross had prepped her and her grandparents on the phone the night before, explaining the situation as best as he could. Of course, Kinley was thrilled. When she bounced into the house the next afternoon shouting out, “Dad and Red,” it made him laugh.

  True to her word, Red had been in the kitchen all afternoon, making pizza dough. Since it was Sunday, Ross did minimal chores. Normally, he would have attended service, but when he’d asked Red if she wanted to go, she’d said no, so he’d stayed with her. They’d spent the afternoon playing chess and talking, and it’d felt so natural. He shared more than he had ever thought he would—about himself, growing up in Casper, working the ranch, and marrying Brook right out of high school. They’d attended the University of Wyoming in Laramie and gotten their degrees in teaching, then returned to Casper, where he’d wanted to ranch and teach. It had all worked out perfectly until she’d been diagnosed with cancer.

  It was the easiest conversation he’d had since Brook, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about it. Every now and then, Red would seem like she wanted to say something, then touch her head. She wasn’t wearing the bandage anymore, but she would complain that her mind was a bit hazy, and she still didn’t remember anything.

  “Hey! Kin-bear!” Ross braced himself as his daughter ran and jumped at him.

  Brook’s parents followed her into the living room, and he hugged each of them.

  “Where is she, Daddy?” Kinley asked.

  Just then, Red walked into the living room with a warm smile on her face.

  Kinley ran toward her. “Hi!”

  “Kinley, stop,” he said quickly.

  Kinley skidded to a halt right in front of Red, who opened her arms and said, “I would love a hug.”

  With a squeal, Kinley hugged her.

  Red’s eyes met
his, and in that moment, there was just another twinge of something he’d started to feel about Red. Maybe she was meant to be here. He pushed the thought away. That was . . . stupid.

  He introduced Brook’s parents, and they were sweet but gave him warning looks. When he walked them out later, Sheila mentioned she was worried that Kinley was already too attached.

  “I know,” he agreed, not knowing how to explain to them that he really wasn’t that worried.

  Brook’s dad only patted him on the back. “Be careful.”

  Ross watched them leave, thinking about how he never would have imagined himself in this position.

  When he went inside, he found Kinley in the kitchen, plunked on the counter, chatting away with Red as she pulled the pizza out of the oven. “I told Daddy I didn’t think you should be alone in the hospital. I told him that somewhere you had a dad too.” Kinley covered her mouth as he walked in. “Oops.”

  He wagged a finger at her. “And I told Red that you are stubborn as all get out.”

  They all laughed.

  “Is your name Red?” Kinley asked.

  Red met his eyes. “I don’t know, but you can call me that.”

  Kinley nodded.

  “Let’s get ready to eat. I made this pizza for you, Kinley, because you didn’t give up on me.” She met his eyes, and he could tell she was holding back emotions. “I think I might still be in that hospital if I hadn’t come back to your home with your father.”

  It hit the center of his chest hard, wondering what would have happened to Red. Would she be sitting in the hospital, just waiting? Was there someone out there who worried about her? Where were they?

  They ate the delicious pizza together and heard all about Kinley’s time with her grandparents, the movie they’d taken her to, and the friend she played with that lived next door. Kinley asked Red a whole bunch of questions that Red couldn’t answer. Finally, Kinley asked questions about cooking, and she and Red talked and talked.

  By bedtime, Ross was more than ready for Kinley to go to bed. He wanted some quiet time with Red, but he didn’t want to think too much about what that meant.

  “Can Red put me to bed?” Kinley asked, her teeth brushed and her pajamas on. He’d been trying to get her to this point for the past fifteen minutes.

  “Uh.” His eyes darted to Red’s as she shuffled through some cards they’d been playing with.

  “Sure.” Red stood, grinning as she moved down the hallway.

  Kinley hugged him quickly, then bounced down the hallway. “I want to show you my favorite book.”

  As she moved past him, he shrugged and put up his hands, whispering, “Sorry.”

  She put her hand on his shoulder and paused. “Don’t be sorry. She’s wonderful.”

  Her touch surprised him, and he put himself through another self-talk about how she was probably married or had a boyfriend. He couldn’t feel things for her; he didn’t really even know her. He stepped back.

  “Sorry,” she said, tugging her hand away.

  “Red!” Kinley yelled out.

  Ross’s heart drummed as Red moved down the hallway, and he swallowed, unable to believe he had such strong feelings so soon. He headed toward the front door, grateful for an escape. He had to be careful. She wasn’t even supposed to be here.

  After reading To the Moon and Back and singing a lullaby to Kinley, Red walked down the hallway, thinking about that moment when she’d briefly touched Ross’s shoulder and so much had passed between them. He’d definitely been caught off guard, she could tell.

  The truth was that she was caught off guard, too. She shouldn’t feel anything for him, right? Could she even feel anything for him? It was so frustrating not to know. Somewhere inside of her, she knew she needed to talk to him, to soothe him. Who soothed this man? From all aspects of his life that she could see, he was the rock for everyone.

  Sure, from what he’d told her, Troy was an amazing brother, and Ross said he was happy he was back in Casper, but who had been watching over the ranch since college? Ross. And then his wife, Brook, died, and he was raising this amazing daughter who was also clearly precious, but maybe a bit of a handful. Not to mention that he taught school and did drama camps. He never exactly said he was feeling financial pressure, but she could tell he was. He’d mentioned that the medical bills didn’t ever stop.

  Walking out onto the porch, she felt the chemistry kick up between them right away. She didn’t know if this was the right thing or not, but she decided everything between them had to be brought out into the open. “Look, Ross,” she said, shutting the door and walking toward the swing.

  It was dark, and he hadn’t turned on the outside light, so there was just the soft glow of light from the living room. She sat on the porch swing next to him.

  His gaze swung to meet hers, making butterflies flock in the lower pit of her gut. He had a beautiful face, a strong jaw, and the bluest eyes. Currently, he had a bit of a sexy five o’clock shadow. This man had such an effect on her.

  “Listen,” she said, “I know I shouldn’t have put my hand on your shoulder back there, and I know there’s something between us, but it’s nothing for you to feel awkward about, okay?”

  The edge of his lip twisted up. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “I mean . . .” She backtracked. “Not that you did feel anything. I was probably making it all up.” Flustered, she stood up. She was probably imagining it all. “Never mind.”

  His hand grasped hers.

  She paused, not turning back. Sparks lit inside of her. His hand was rough and strong.

  “Red, sit,” he said quietly.

  Was it ridiculous she could swoon over a strong hand? How silly. She was embarrassed all over again.

  “Red.” His voice was a whisper. “I am feeling all these things, and you see . . .” He gently squeezed her hand. “I want to kiss you, but . . .”

  Her focus was on that place of physical connection, on the way she was caught up in this man, in his life, in his daughter. She turned to face him.

  “I am trying not to feel this way,” he explained, “because you don’t even know your name. Because it’s not right. Because you might be married, for heaven’s sake.” Releasing her, he stood, raking a hand through his hair.

  The loss of his hand felt too abrupt, and she wanted it back. She didn’t say anything. What could she say? He was right. She might be married. Yet she didn’t know how she could feel these things so deeply for him and be married. Could she be married? “Then why hasn’t he come for me?” she asked, speaking louder in angry desperation. “If I have a loving husband, why isn’t he looking for me? Why was I out in the middle of your ranch? Why? Why?” Her voice softened, and she spoke quietly. “Wouldn’t I wear a ring?”

  “I don’t know,” he said quietly back.

  “Why?” she repeated, grabbing his shirt. They were close enough that she could feel his breath on her face.

  “I don’t know.” The words were even quieter, and all the zing and attraction was back, rising like a lightning bolt between them.

  “I don’t care.” She put her hands around his shoulders, pulling his head down to hers, pausing right before his lips were on hers. Every part of her was on edge, but she couldn’t deny how drawn to this man she was. Unwilling tears misted into her eyes. “I don’t care. Kiss me.”

  For a moment, he hesitated, and she thought he might kiss her. Then he put his hands over hers and took them off of his neck. “No,” he said, but he didn’t pull away.

  “Yes,” she whispered, pleading.

  “I can’t be that man.” He moved to the edge of the porch, holding the railing.

  She stayed back, sucking on a breath. While she was grateful that he wasn’t that kind of man, she was so confused about everything she felt. “I’m sorry,” she said quickly.

  He stayed by the railing. “It’s fine.” But she could hear him sucking in long breaths. All of this was enough to drive a person mad.

/>   She moved next to him, willing herself not to touch him. “I love it out here. I love that you can stare into the landscape forever. I don’t know. It just feels like . . .” She didn’t know how to end the sentence.

  “What?”

  Her heart hammered. “Like I belong here.”

  Silence reigned between them.

  She felt like a fool, but she didn’t care. “The doctors said my memory would come back. At least, it should in cases like mine, but I just can’t help feeling that I knew this place before.”

  He let out a breath. “The funny thing is that I don’t know if I belong here anymore.”

  This didn’t make sense. “What?”

  “When Brook got cancer, nothing was working, so I put a mortgage on the ranch to try experimental treatments.” He was rubbing his palm like he wanted to scrape something out of it. A nervous habit. “I never caught up. My brother and I have a meeting with the bank the day after he gets back. We’re asking for a refinance, but I don’t know if they’ll give it to us.” He sighed. “And we have this giant . . . energy company that I fear will swoop in and pay the bank top dollar, and we won’t be able to stop it.”

  Without hesitating, she took his hand. “The bank has to help you.”

  He stared at their joined hands. “Most things aren’t ever certain.”

  She dropped his hand, facing the landscape. She couldn’t imagine them kicking him off his land. “Isn’t there something else you can do? Someone else you can go to?”

  “I’ve learned that sometimes the only thing you can do in life”—he stared into the darkness, then turned to her—“is trust God.”

  She wondered if she did trust God. She let out a long breath. “Okay, if we’re trusting in an all-knowing being that I’m not even sure I believe in, then I guess that’s what we’re doing.”

  A smile played at his lips. “I guess that’s all we can do.” He reached out and gently moved a tendril of hair that had been in her face. “Everything’s going to work out for you, Red. I know it.”

  Again, she wanted to kiss him, but she didn’t want to make him uncomfortable. “You sure?”

  “I know it.”