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

by Layla Valentine

  Maybe her next job depends on the success of this show. That makes sense. Working in the film industry can feel like being continuously unemployed. You’re always hunting and waiting for the next job to line up.

  “See you at eight,” Tina says as she leaves.

  Aaron and I look at each other. The house feels strangely quiet, maybe because a minute ago there were a dozen people in it.

  “Eight,” I say. “That’s not too early.”

  “Yeah. That’s good.”

  Without another look at him, I stride for the kitchen. I’m pretty sure I saw some frozen dinners in the freezer. I’ll pop one of those babies in the microwave, grab one of the few fiction books in the house, and head upstairs for the night.

  Aaron follows me. Like with everything he does, this gives me conflicted feelings.

  Mostly, I wish he would just go away. We’re done filming for the day. It’s time to take our personal space.

  Ignoring his presence, I pull a box of frozen chicken curry out and flip it over, looking for its microwave time.

  “Are you sure you want to do that?” Aaron asks.

  I frown. “Why? Because it’s covered in plastic? Let me guess. You’re so health-conscious that you wouldn’t touch a microwave dinner with a ten-foot pole.”

  “Do I really come across that way?”

  I eye the area of his shirt covering his six-pack. “Only a little. Oh, wait. I forgot. You eat the same thing every day. Yogurt for breakfast, and…what? Chicken, rice, and broccoli for dinner? Absolutely no seasoning, and the chicken has to be organic, free-range, and with at least a bachelor’s. But not in English.”

  Aaron braces his forearms on the kitchen island and leans into them. “You’re funny.”

  The blush hits fast and hard. Clearing my throat, I rip the box open.

  “I was hoping you might make me tacos,” Aaron says.

  My fingers hover above the microwave buttons. I’m turned away from him, but I feel his gaze all over my back.

  “I don’t know that we have the ingredients for that.”

  “Then we’ll go to the store.”

  That’s right. Our cars are here.

  Funny, I’ve convinced myself that I’m trapped here. I completely forgot that I can drive off any time I want, so long as I return for the night.

  Gnawing on my lip, I debate it. Tacos do sound good. And it’s not like I have anyone else to spend time with.

  Maybe hanging out with Aaron for a bit will be okay. It doesn’t have to mean anything. We’ll be killing time together. Nothing more.

  “Okay. Let’s do it.”

  “Excellent.” Aaron straightens up. “What kind of tacos are we making?”

  “We? I thought you asked me to cook for you.”

  “What kind of gentleman would I be if I didn’t help out?”

  “I don’t know.” I stuff the frozen dinner back into the freezer. “Maybe the kind who steals stranger’s parking spots. Is that your idea of chivalry?”

  “You’ll never let me live that down, huh?”

  “I’m pretty sure you would still do it today without any hesitation. It’s not like you’ve learned anything.”

  “I’ve learned it makes your face red,” he answers with a grin.

  I make an exasperated noise. “Let’s go to the store. I’m starving.”

  “I’ll drive.”

  “Fine by me.”

  Once we’re buckled into his car, the first thing he does is put the top down.

  “You don’t mind, do you?” he asks.

  It’s unlikely I’d be able to respond if I wanted to. He’s tearing rubber out of the driveway, the speed so extreme that I suck in a breath and grip the edge of my seat.

  He speeds up even more as we drive; the only thing faster is my pounding heart.

  Somehow, we make it to the nearest grocery store both alive and without getting involved in any accidents.

  “You drive like a maniac.” My legs are jelly as I get from the car.

  “No,” he laughs. “I drive fast, but I know what I’m doing.”

  That makes my eyes narrow. “That’s literally what every crazy driver says. They all think they’re experts behind the wheel.”

  “But I really am.”

  It’s hard to say whether he means that or whether he’s pulling my leg. Either way, my eyes are rolling on the way into the grocery store.

  I’m the one who leads the way, selecting the ingredients for ground beef tacos. To make it special, I’ll be making the pico de gallo myself.

  “Some people think it’s crazy to have pico de gallo on beef tacos,” I say, matter-of-fact, grabbing a block of cheddar.

  “Well, we’ve already established you think I’m crazy. If you are, too, then we’re a perfect match.”

  My heart does a happy jig. What does that mean? Is he trying to tell me something, or only messing with me?

  Either way, whatever. This is dinner between two roommates. Two coworkers. Nothing more.

  We pass the wine and beer aisle on the way to the cash registers, and Aaron makes a beeline for the reds.

  “Do you like wine?” he asks.

  “Yeah.”

  “What kind?”

  “Um…” I shrug. “The kind you can drink.”

  Seriously, I know there are different kinds of wines. Merlot. Cabernet. Blend-of-this. Blend-of-that. It’s never made much of a difference to me.

  “Boy, will I have fun with you.” There’s a sparkle in his eye that does nothing to quell my heart’s hopeful expectations.

  He makes his selection, and we head for the front. Aaron pulls his wallet out, and I’m about to offer to pay for half when I see the total has come to over a hundred dollars.

  Either avocados really have become that in demand, or that’s one expensive ass bottle of wine.

  He must notice my eyes bugging out of my head.

  “It’ll be worth it,” he says, inserting his card. “Trust me.”

  “If you say so.”

  The ride back home is as wild as the ride to the store, but I’m actually able to go with it and have a bit of fun. It’s nice to feel the wind whipping my hair and licking my face. The experience is akin to being on horseback.

  In the kitchen, I get to work right away, heating a pan and dicing the onions.

  “What can I do?” Aaron asks. “Help with the salsa?”

  “Um…”

  “Right. I see. That’s your specialty, huh?”

  I bite into my lip. “How would I impress you with it if I didn’t make it myself?”

  “You admit it. You want to impress me.” Aaron folds his arms and leans his back against the counter right next to me.

  “I chose the wrong words. I want to prove you wrong.”

  “About what, exactly?”

  I open my mouth, but I don’t really have an answer. All I understand is there’s a need to show Aaron I’m capable, to prove to him that I can’t be easily defeated. It must be because we’ll never get off the bad foot we started on.

  “How about you slice the avocado?” I ask. “Thin, long slices.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  We work in silence. When he’s done with the avocado, I have him grate cheese while I cook the meat. Savory smells, reminding me of home, fill the kitchen.

  Both on the ranch and in the nearby town, tacos are a staple. My affinity for them, along with my skill in a saddle, is one of the things I’ve carried with me out west.

  By the time everything is ready, I’m nearly drooling. It was probably the hours spent in the sun, but I had no idea I was this hungry until the food is in front of me.

  “This looks amazing,” Aaron says.

  He sounds like he means it, which makes my chest swell with pride. “Wait till you taste it.”

  Taking my plate, I set a course for the breakfast table that looks out onto the street.

  “How about we sit on the back patio?” Aaron asks. “We can watch the sunset.”


  “That sounds like a really good idea.”

  He brings the bottle of wine with, and we settle into two lounge chairs, a glass table between us. The swimming pool and ocean shimmer like they’re made of diamonds, thanks to the rays casting diagonal against them.

  “I forgot glasses,” Aaron says.

  “I’ll get them.” Jumping up, I go into the kitchen and search in the cupboards.

  There’s definitely a difference between white and red wine glasses. I’m not positive which is which, but Aaron will be sure to correct me if I’ve made the wrong choice.

  On the patio, his eyes are closed, a taco with a bite taken out of it in hand.

  “Amazing.” He makes a low moaning noise, and every part of me that makes me a woman stirs to life.

  “G—good.” I lick my dry lips and take my seat. “Here are the glasses.”

  He doesn’t say anything about my selection. Either I got the kind of glasses right, or the tacos are so good that the bad attitude’s been knocked out of him.

  I’d like to think it’s a combination of both.

  He opens the bottle with ease and pours us each a glass. A tangy, sweet scent hits my nose right before I take a sip. The taste itself is more complex, changing several times before leaving my mouth.

  “Wow,” I say, taking my turn at being impressed.

  Aaron inspects his glass and takes another sip. “It’s okay.”

  “I thought you said it would be worth it!” I laugh.

  “Wine is always worth it,” he says, taking another sip. “But I’ve had better.”

  “Where?” I catch a piece of avocado right before it falls from my taco.

  “From my vineyard.”

  My eyebrows rise. “You have a vineyard?”

  “Yes. For a few years, now. It’s in Temecula—Wine Country.”

  Chewing slowly, I absorb that information. Sounds like he was being modest when he said he has a startup. If he’s in the first stages of business, how could he have afforded to buy a vineyard?

  Another bite gives me time to mull over the most tactful way to ask about his business success. Before I can say anything, though, he steals the moment.

  “I had a good time on our date today.”

  A shiver runs through me. It was a date, technically, but it’s weird thinking about it that way. There’s no chance of it leading anywhere for us. After this show has run its course, we’ll never see each other again.

  “Really?”

  “Yes, really. You’re nothing at all like what I expected you to be.”

  Putting my taco down, I reach for the wine. “Is that so?” I ask stiffly.

  “Yeah. I mean that in a positive way.”

  “Oh, really?” I scoff. “When did I ever come across badly to you?”

  “The audition. You behaved horribly towards me from the beginning.”

  “Excuse me?” My voice rises a whole octave. This man is out of his mind. “I was as respectful as I could be. Not that you deserved any respect after stealing my parking spot.”

  I’m ready to launch into a full tirade, but the spark of amusement in his eyes stops me.

  “I’m kidding,” he says. “You’re right. You were nice to me, considering I was such a jerk.”

  My shoulders relax. “Oh.”

  “I’m sorry I took your parking spot.”

  It’s the apology I’ve been wanting, but that I never thought would arrive.

  “Th—thank you.”

  “Do you want to know why I took it?”

  My tongue is thick. He’s been looking straight at me for an awfully long time, now. “Sure.”

  “I saw you watching me. Well…” A sly smile slips onto his face. “Ogling me. I thought it would be fun to see if I could use that to my advantage.”

  I don’t know what to be mad about first. “Fun?” I spit. “That’s not my idea of fun. And I don’t—I wasn’t ogling you!”

  “I was in the wrong.” Not only is the apology in the form of words, but it’s also written across his face.

  My muscles and temper soften. It’s hard to stay mad when he seems so genuinely regretful.

  “Thank you,” I repeat.

  “I won’t do it again.”

  “I won’t give you the chance to,” I toss back.

  Aaron grins. “I’m sure you won’t. You seem like the kind of person who doesn’t allow others to stand in her way.”

  “The general circumstances of the world stand in my way enough.”

  I swirl the wine around and relax into my seat. The sun’s setting, casting a mesmerizing orange glow onto the beach.

  “You really can’t beat this view,” I say, thinking of the scene out of my Echo Park bedroom window. It’s of a parking lot with a dumpster.

  “No, you can’t. I’m glad we’re sharing it.”

  “Really?”

  Aaron’s steady, warm hazel gaze threatens to melt me. “Yes.”

  “Me, too,” I respond, smiling into my wine glass.

  Chapter 14

  Once we’re done eating, Aaron collects the empty plates.

  “Would it be wrong to ask if we can have that for dinner every night for the next two weeks?” he questions.

  “I might actually be down with that,” I laugh.

  “Like you said, there are many different kinds of tacos.”

  He takes the plates inside, and I eye the swimming pool. Full darkness has fallen across the city, and the lights around the pool reveal its tempting depths.

  Maybe I should…

  My cowgirl boots and socks are off in a matter of seconds.

  Leaving my chair, I creep to the pool’s edge and dip a bare toe in. It’s a cool kiss against my fevered skin. Without hesitating, I yank off my shorts and shirt and jump into the pool.

  It’s heaven. I sink down, letting out a bit of air so I can move faster. My heels hit the hard bottom.

  I stay down as long as I can, then push my feet against the floor and propel back toward the surface. My head breaks through the water, and I gasp for air.

  “There you are.”

  Opening my eyes, I see Aaron walk toward me. He slows, his attention on my pile of clothes.

  Shit.

  Did I really just strip and jump in the pool?

  “I have my underwear on,” I say, then press my lips together. That’s not something I needed to explain. Obviously, I’m still clad in bra and panties.

  “You didn’t want to go upstairs and get a bathing suit?” he asks.

  I swim to the edge and hook my arms over it. “I didn’t think about that. I saw the water and I wanted to jump in, so…”

  “Mind if I join you?”

  “Um, sure.”

  Electricity invigorates my body. But Aaron doesn’t remove his clothes like I did. Instead he tells me he’ll be right back and goes inside. A few minutes later, he returns in his bathing suit and with a couple towels in hand.

  “That’s what I should have done,” I say.

  “No, I like your style.”

  “Impulsive?”

  “Free.” He puts the towels on a lounge chair and slips into the water. “I wish I were more like that.”

  “I dunno,” I say and laugh. “It seems like being structured has gotten you pretty far. Although I still question the whole yogurt-every-day thing.”

  “I should have never told you that.”

  “Too late.” I jut my chin at him. “And if that’s the weirdest thing about you, you’re doing pretty good.”

  “Thanks.” He grins.

  Turning around, Aaron swims to the other end of the pool. I stay treading water while he kicks off the wall and makes his way back to me.

  “So leisurely,” I say.

  “I’m getting there.” He runs his palm over his head, slicking his wet hair back.

  “Try it. Like this.” I playfully bob up and down and splash some water.

  “Like…this?” Aaron makes jerky, robotic movements. He looks more like he’s flai
ling and in need of saving.

  “Not exactly.” I laugh.

  “I think I’ll need another demonstration.”

  “Do you not know how to have fun?”

  “I do,” he says with a degree of irritation that tells me he’s been seriously accused of exactly that before.

  The grin falls off my face. “I was kidding.”

  “I know.”

  “But do you…” How do I put this? “What do you do for fun?” I ask.

  He won’t look at me, and he takes an awful long time answering. “I like to work out…and check on the operations at my vineyard.”

  I suck air in between my teeth. “Yikes.”

  “What?”

  “Aaron, neither of those things sound like fun. Not unless you’re drinking the whole time you’re at the vineyard.”

  “I wouldn’t drink while working.”

  “Aha!” I point a finger at him. “You said it was fun, not work!”

  “It can be both.”

  My muscles are aching from continuously treading water. Swimming over to the edge, I consider pulling myself out and having a seat. I’m still in my bra and panties, though, and even though it’s the same amount of skin as a bikini would reveal, it feels much more intimate this way.

  I choose to stay below the surface. He can see through the water, but I feel much less exposed this way.

  Holding onto the edge, I eye him. He seems to be having no trouble staying afloat. With those muscles and practiced breaststrokes, I’m not surprised.

  “What would you be doing if you were home?” I ask. “On a Saturday night with no work to do?”

  He starts to answer, but I interrupt.

  “And you’ve already worked out for the day, and you just checked on your vineyard, where you found everything to be perfect.”

  Predictably, he frowns.

  “Drinking wine, maybe?” I suggest.

  “Yes.” Aaron nods emphatically. “Drinking wine.”

  “With a friend?”

  Or a girlfriend?

  Jealousy rolls through me. As far as I remember, it’s the first time I’ve thought about Aaron having a significant other or dating.

  “Most of my friends, I work with.”

  “Of course you do.”

  “But there is Kyle. We used to go surfing together.”

  “Nice,” I say. “When was the last time you did that?”