How To Wed A Billionaire (How To... Book 3)

by Layla Valentine

  Then again, this is still the Greater LA area. What am I saying? It would be a surprise if someone doesn’t pop out from behind a tree in the middle of the woods and ask if they can be an extra in whatever we’re making.

  “Hold the reins loose,” Jean tells Aaron. “Like this.”

  I let my mind wander while she shows him the ropes. The trail leading from the stables to some hills beyond calls to me. My fingers itch, and my heart speeds up.

  I can feel Clover’s excitement, too. She wants to get out there as badly as I do.

  “Look at that!” Jean crows. “You’re getting it!”

  Aaron trots his horse around the yard, and that shit-eating grin he wears is most definitely directed at me.

  My exhale is hot. “Beginner’s luck.”

  From behind the wheel of the golf cart, Tina’s face crumples.

  Shoot. Didn’t I just tell myself a few minutes ago that I need to better watch what I say?

  “Good job, Aaron,” I call, louder this time. “You look like a natural.”

  That’s not a lie at all. You’d never know this is his first time on a horse.

  Jean leads the way, going down the trail I was eyeballing. Aaron goes behind her, with me following, and the crew last. The mics in our shirts have to be really good if they’re picking up any conversation, because I can barely hear Jean when she calls my name.

  “What was that?” I guide Clover next to our teacher’s horse. We’ve stopped at a fork in the trail.

  “You’re both doing so good,” Jean says. “I said that you can go out on your own if you want.”

  “Really?” I ask, unable to contain my excitement.

  “I’m comfortable with that,” Aaron says.

  “Yeah, but can you keep up?” I throw him a saucy look.

  He meets my gaze. “I think you’d be surprised at how quickly I adapt.”

  There’s so much intensity in his eyes that looking into them gets uncomfortable. I don’t back down, though—both for the cameras and for myself.

  “This trail goes in a loop,” Jean says. “Start on either side you want. It’s three miles. I’ll meet you back at the stables.”

  Three miles? I could ride twenty right now, easy. Assuming Clover has got it in her.

  “Shall we?” Aaron asks once Jean has turned her horse for the farm.

  “Sure, but which way?”

  “Lady’s choice.” Aaron tips a pretend hat and takes on a country twang. “Ma’am.”

  “All right,” I laugh. “If that’s what chivalry brings me, I don’t mind at all. We’ll go this way.”

  I nod at the sunnier end of the trail. If we ride through the hottest part first, it will be easier on both us and the horses.

  Aaron gestures for me to go first. The clip-clop of his horse’s hooves follows close behind me. The rumble of the golf cart and its struggle over the occasional rock is also near.

  It’s questionable whether the golf cart will be able to make this whole trail. Truth be told, it would be great if it got stuck somewhere and Aaron and I had to go on without the crew.

  I mean, “I.” It would be great if I had to go on without the crew. What Aaron does and where he goes doesn’t matter.

  “You’re good at this.”

  It takes me a beat to realize he’s talking to me. The sunshine on my face and the fantasy about slipping away alone have distracted me that much.

  “Thanks,” I say. “You…you are, too.”

  “Yeah?”

  I shrug, hands tightening on Clover’s reins. It’s hard for me to admit, but Aaron looks extremely comfortable on top of that horse.

  Damn good, too. I’ve seen a lot of authentic cowboys in my life, but he has them all beat.

  “Were you lying?” I ask.

  “What are you talking about?”

  The trail has widened out. I guide Clover next to Aaron’s horse so we don’t have to yell to talk to each other.

  “About never riding before,” I say.

  “No.” His face is serious. “I’m a quick learner.”

  Something about the way he says it is sensual. It makes me think about how quickly he might be able to learn my body.

  Biting into my lip, I turn my attention back to the trail in front of us.

  “But there’s no way I’m as good as you,” he says.

  “Well, that goes without saying.”

  “Are you always this cocky?”

  “Only when I have reason to be,” I toss back.

  “Hm.” Aaron looks me up and down. “Okay. Fair enough. You have confidence. I respect that.”

  “Like I said, only where it’s due. I know what I’m good at and what I’m not.” I shrug.

  “And what are you good at?”

  It’s the most personal question I’ve heard from his lips since we’ve met. Pressing my tongue against my front teeth, I pause. Do I want to get that in-depth with him?

  “Making tacos,” I say.

  Aaron’s jaw drops.

  “Not the answer you expected, huh?” I ask.

  “No, but now I’m intrigued. Just how good are you at taco making?”

  “Really, really good.”

  “Huh. Okay, okay.” He looks thoughtful for a moment. “What if I were to tell you that—”

  “There’s no way you’re better at it than I am.”

  “And what makes you sure of that?” he asks.

  “Unless we had the same grandpa who taught us every amazing taco pairing on earth, there’s no way you’re as good as me.”

  “I seriously hope we don’t have the same grandpa, or we’re going to need to get this marriage annulled today.”

  A laugh explodes from my throat.

  “You’re going to have to make me tacos, now,” Aaron says. “You know that, right? You can’t dangle something like that in front of me and never make me tacos.”

  “What kind?”

  “How many kinds are there?”

  “How many kinds?” My shout echoes against the rock face we’re coming up to. Clover, calm girl she is, doesn’t even jerk.

  But I apologize to her anyway by patting her neck.

  “There are breakfast tacos,” I say, “to start out with.”

  “I’ve never heard of them.”

  My eyes narrow on him. “You’re yanking my chain.”

  “No,” Aaron laughs. “I’m not.”

  He pushes his fingers through his thick hair, leaving some of it sticking straight up. My own hands itch. His hair is probably unbelievably soft.

  Mentally shaking myself, I get back on track.

  “How can you live in LA and not have had breakfast tacos?” I ask. “That’s what you’re telling me, right? You’ve never had them?”

  “Sorry. Haven’t. I’m more of a yogurt and protein bar guy in the mornings.”

  “Yogurt and protein bars.” I nod. “What else?”

  The trail narrows, making it harder to ride alongside each other. Aaron must have really listened to Jean’s instructions, because he successfully slows his horse, allowing me to take the lead.

  “That’s it,” he says.

  I turn in my saddle to look at him. “You eat that every morning?” I ask on a laugh.

  “Yeah.”

  He’s being serious.

  “Um, wow, okay. That sounds…”

  Incredibly boring.

  “How long have you been doing that for?” I ask.

  “A few years. Maybe five. Maybe eight.”

  “Oh my God.” My extreme giggles make it hard to get the words out. “Eight is not a few.”

  “I don’t know how long it’s been. All I know is that it works for me.”

  “How so?” I wish we were still riding side-by-side. It would be easier to steal a look at him.

  “It leaves more brainpower for other things. I don’t have to wake up in the mornings and scramble to figure out what’s for breakfast.”

  “Personally, I love a good breakfast scramble.”
/>   He laughs at my bad joke. My chest warms.

  “Experimenting in the kitchen is one of my favorite things to do,” I say. “If you switched things up some, you might like it.”

  “I’m sure I would. It’s that I don’t have time for that. Cooking and such.”

  It’s baffling that anyone would eat the same thing every morning for years because they don’t feel they have the brain space to make decisions about meals.

  I want to pump Aaron for more information. What is it that takes up all his time and energy?

  Luckily, I have the cameras to use as a cover. If he thought I was actually interested in his life, I would faint from embarrassment.

  Before I can ask anything else, though, someone else steals the opportunity.

  “Talk about what you want for lunch,” Tina shouts at us. “And Rachel, turn around to talk to him.”

  “What do you want for lunch?” Aaron asks me. “Tacos?”

  Turning in my saddle, I scrunch up my face. “You know what? All this talk about tacos has made me really want a sandwich.”

  “Wow. That’s…expected.”

  “I know, right?”

  “Looks like you won’t have long to wait.” Aaron gestures ahead of us.

  In what’s felt like no time at all, we’ve reached the end of the trail. My mood sinks. I want to believe it’s only because I’ll have to get off Clover soon, but the truth is that it’s been kind of fun chatting with Aaron.

  It’s a sign that I must be really lonely. The producers’ plan to separate us from the rest of the world so that we’re forced to bond is working.

  Jean meets us at the stable, where we slide off the horses and walk them to their stalls. Aaron is happy to care for his horse after the ride, especially when it comes to giving him a treat.

  “See?” I ask as the horses gobble carrots from our palms. “Much better than grass.”

  “Now I know,” he says.

  “Great!” Tina says. “That’s a wrap for this location. Everyone to the cars. It’s the restaurant next.”

  Against my will, my feet drag on my way out of the stable. It sucks to leave this place behind.

  The next time Molly wants to get out of the city for a day, I’ll definitely be suggesting horseback riding.

  Luzia catches up to me halfway to the cars. “Hey.”

  “Hi.”

  “How’s it going? You know, at the house?”

  I loosen my braid as we walk. It’s still damp in the middle. If I let my hair hang free, there should be some nice wave to it.

  “It’s good,” I answer.

  Aaron’s up ahead, and I think everyone else is also too far off to hear our conversation, but I don’t trust Luzia. Like everyone else on this show, it seems she’s single-mindedly pursuing her own agenda, whatever that might be.

  Which is too bad. Being cut off from my friends and family, it would be nice to have someone I can comfortably talk with.

  “Has he made a move on you?” she asks.

  “Um…”

  “You can tell me.”

  Except, I can’t. For all I know, she could have been put up to this, sent over by Tina or a producer in order to get dirt they can put on the show.

  “We’re getting along,” I say with a smile. “See you at the next location.”

  Her nose wrinkles. She looks like she wants to say more, but I pick up the pace and hustle to the car.

  Aaron’s looking out the window, and no one in the car is talking.

  Fine by me.

  It feels like a string is yanking on my stomach as I buckle up. Unexpectedly, my eyes burn from the threat of tears.

  Twenty-four hours into this adventure, and the loneliness is starting to eat away at me. It doesn’t matter that I’m surrounded by a crew. I want my own friends.

  Pressing my lips together hard, I take an even, cleansing breath. It doesn’t matter how I feel. There’s a job to be done, and I won’t fail at it.

  Chapter 12

  Instead of driving all the way back to the city, we’re taken to a little restaurant surrounded by trees. Stepping from the car, I swallow a deep gulp of air. It’s still fresher than what I get on a daily basis, and I love it.

  There’s a big deck at the front of the restaurant with red umbrellas shading the tables. When Tina directs us over to the corner of the deck, it’s a pleasure. The heat is something I’ve never minded. In fact, I kind of thrive in it.

  While the crew sets up, Tina corrals me and Aaron.

  “You two did great back there,” she says.

  “Thanks.” I nod. Her feedback is always kind of the same unless she really doesn’t like something, but I guess that’s good?

  She goes on. “What we want for this is some sharing about who you really are, where you come from.” She rolls her hand. “Get to really know each other.”

  The words make me tense. I don’t want Aaron—or the world—knowing me intimately, but here we go.

  On the other side of the porch, Luzia watches with twisted lips. It could be that she’s mad about how I avoided her earlier. I certainly don’t want to be rude, but I need to watch my back on this job. Lord knows there’s no one else doing it for me.

  Tina leaves us to it, and Aaron and I sit in our assigned seats. The rest of the deck is empty, and there are only a few cars in the parking lot. Did production rent the restaurant out for the next couple hours?

  Aaron pushes his chair in close to the table and folds his hands on the menu, his back straight as a rod. Instantly, I’m laughing.

  “What?” he asks.

  “You look like you’re at a business meeting. Is this how you are on all your dates?”

  “Well…” He lowers his voice so Tina and the crew can’t hear. “This date is a lot like a business meeting.”

  “True.”

  The makeup artist comes in to powder my face and swipe some gloss on my lips, which leaves me feeling subconscious about how I looked while horseback riding. Hopefully, the sun didn’t melt all of my makeup off.

  “Cameras are rolling,” Tina says. “The waitress will come over and everything will happen as normal. Remember, you’re getting to know each other better while you eat lunch.”

  Rubbing my palms nervously on my thighs, I wonder what kinds of food are best to eat on camera. Ideally, none.

  But I have to order something. A sandwich? As long as it’s not messy, I suppose.

  “Rachel?”

  “Huh?”

  Aaron’s looking at me with wide eyes. “Did you hear me?”

  “Yeah.” Closing my eyes, I shake my head and laugh anxiously. “No. Sorry. I was somewhere else.”

  “Care to share?”

  “Just wondering…” Out of the corner of my eye, light reflects off one of the camera lenses. “What I should have for lunch.”

  “I need to make that same decision.” He lifts his menu and inspects it. “Looks like it’s mostly brunch.”

  “Great.”

  An omelet shouldn’t be too unattractive to eat.

  The waitress arrives and we place our orders. Thankfully, they are serving omelets. I’ve already sucked down a whole glass of water, so she has to refill my glass before leaving to put our order in.

  Left alone—well, except for the film crew gathered a few feet away—Aaron props his chin in his hand and inspects me.

  “You grew up in the country, right?” he asks. “That’s what I asked before.”

  “How did you know?”

  “You were good on that horse. Plus…” His eyes drift down. “Those cowgirl boots look properly worn in.”

  He’s not checking out my legs—only my shoes—but I get the shivers anyway.

  “On a ranch,” I confirm.

  His eyebrows rise. “No way. Really?”

  “Yeah.” I laugh.

  A dimple shows on the left side of his mouth. Has he always had those when he smiles? It doesn’t seem possible that I wouldn’t notice them.

  “I spent
my whole life there,” I say. “I mean, most of it.”

  “I’ve never been to a ranch.”

  “Ever driven by one?” I ask.

  “I’m sure, but I’ve never been on one. A ranch where?”

  “Texas.”

  Tina shuffles her way behind the cameras so that she’s in my vision. I already know what she’s going to say: I’m not talking near enough.

  “East Texas,” I quickly add, before my director gets the chance to speak up. “Outside of a little town that I’m sure you’ve never heard of.”

  “I’ve been to Texas,” he says. “Maybe I have heard of it.”

  “Texas is big. Where have you been?”

  “Austin. Dallas.”

  “Right,” I say on a giggle. “That’s what I thought.”

  “What are you doing all the way out in LA, then?”

  “I moved here about four years ago. Moved in with someone I met online.”

  “A boyfriend?”

  “No.” Before I realize what I’m doing, I bump my knee against Aaron’s. His grin widens.

  The lightheaded sensation that accompanies any physical contact with him threatens to take hold. Thinking fast, I focus on keeping my tongue busy. Maybe that’ll distract me from getting swept up in the heady scent coming off the hunk of a male only inches away from me.

  “We’re still roommates, actually,” I go on. “And best friends.”

  I refrain from mentioning she works at the production company that’s currently filming us. It might look like I got on this show purely thanks to a special favor.

  “That’s really special,” Aaron says. “That’s nice.”

  He’s being so friendly it almost makes me suspicious. Is this behavior part of some plan to mess with me? Then again, he was chastised by Tina earlier. Maybe he only wants to do a good job.

  “Yeah.” I brush condensation from my water glass and start to take a drink, but then stop. I’m not really thirsty, and maybe breaking from this scene to go to the bathroom would be a bad idea. It could disturb any flow we have going.

  “What brought you here?” Aaron asks.

  “Um, acting, actually.” I tuck hair behind my ear, feeling self-conscious.

  Sometimes I get that way when I tell people I’m an actress. There are so many of us in LA that I can feel like a cliché stating the simple facts of my life.