Mister Billions: A Small Town Enemies-to-Lovers Fake Marriage Billionaire Romance (Bad Boys in Love Book 1)

by Cassie-Ann L. Miller

  “Huh,” he says on an exhale, leaning back in his chair. "Okay. That's something." The corner of his mouth twitches. I can tell he’s trying hard to keep a straight face. "And who's Jessa?"

  "My younger sister. The barista you insulted," I sneer, holding tight to my grudge.

  "The barista's your sister?" A smile pulls across my lips when he flinches subtly.

  I nod. "She's the one who gets me out of trouble when I get carried away."

  "I bet you keep her busy," he says under his breath. I want to act offended but hell, he's right.

  Instead, I throw a question at him. "What about you? Tell me about your siblings."

  "Three brothers. Walker's the oldest. Then, Eli. Then, me. Jude's the youngest." He runs a finger around the base of his glass. "And the rest of your family?"

  I swallow. "Jessa's all the family I've got." I see the question marks rising in his eyes. He wants to ask about my parents. I veer the conversation back to the questionnaire before he manages to voice his interrogation. "Okay, back to your little quiz," I say chirpily. "What’s something you want to learn or wish you were better at?"

  Cannon chews on his bottom lip for several seconds before replying, “Mutual fund trading. I leave my portfolio in the hands of a team of professionals but I'd like to be better informed so I don't have to rely on third parties to understand the details of what's going on with my money.” He casually digs into his meal like it isn't the most delicious thing he's ever eaten.

  Ugh. “Boring. Why does it always have to come back to money with you?”

  At that, he winks. "Because money makes the world go 'round." He attacks his coq au vin with knife and fork.

  "If you say so, Mr. Billions." I pluck an olive out of my salad and pop it into my mouth.

  He grins lopsidedly. “All right. Let’s see what’s next.” He looks down at his printed list again. “What’s something that bugs you? Okay, that’s a dumb one.”

  “Nope, we’re going to answer each one,” I argue. Then I tap my jawline, thinking hard. “Snoring. It bugs the heck out of me. Do you snore? Because that’s a dealbreaker for me. Snoring is basically you bragging—super loud—that you’re asleep and I’m not.”

  Cannon’s facade cracks when he bursts out laughing at my answer.

  “Well, do you?” I repeat, licking salad dressing from my finger. “I’m not kidding here.”

  “I don't know if I snore,” he answers lightly. His gaze surfs down my body. "But you're welcome to join me in my bed if you're really that interested in my sleep habits."

  I dramatically roll my eyes, feigning my annoyance despite the instant flash of lightning between my thighs. “Nice try.”

  “And as for what bugs me? Disloyal people." His expression goes sober. "Nothing disgusts me like a person who grins to your face and then stabs you in the back.”

  I lift my glass. "I feel that on every level of my soul, King. To me, nothing is more sacred than friendship and you can't build that on a foundation of disloyalty."

  "Agreed. Wholeheartedly." He clinks his glass to mine.

  He wears a strange expression as his gaze rakes over me again. I can’t tell if he just appreciates my tiny dress, or if he's processing the fact that we actually just agreed on something. I'm feeling kind of strange, too.

  He’s doing the whole rumpled billionaire thing again tonight, but it works on Cannon. I’d never considered myself attracted to businessmen, but the way his button down shirt accentuates his muscled chest, and the way his slacks hug his ass, and the way his messy dark blond man bun highlights his chiselled features…I’m a big fan of this look on Cannon Kingston.

  The man is hot as fuck.

  As far as fake husbands go, I really could do a whole lot worse.

  To break the tension, I grab the question sheet from his hands and ask. “What’s your favorite place on earth?”

  “Home, I guess. Right here in Crescent Harbor. I wouldn’t have said that a month ago, but I'm realizing I don’t want to be anywhere else.” I shouldn’t read anything into that, but my body can’t help it. And the way he uses his voice makes my stomach go tight tight tight. “What about you? Favorite place?”

  “My bed.”

  At that, he leans forward interestedly with a half-smile. It’s only then that I realize how that sounded. I didn't mean it like that.

  What I meant to say was, at the end of a long day when I get home, I just want to curl up beneath my sheets. I eat there. Read there. Watch movies there. It’s my safe space. I should take it back, correct myself.

  But hey, if he can play that innuendo game, so can I.

  Cannon’s gaze heats up. “I like that.”

  I grin lazily.

  His eyes stay on me and when he leans across and wipes sauce from my lip with his knuckle, I swear I almost die.

  "Sorry, the food is so good and I'm being such a slob." I grab my cloth napkin and self-consciously blot my mouth. His attention stays on my lips and the devil in me wishes he'd just lean closer.

  Thankfully, right then, the waiter comes back to refill our drinks. Cannon shifts, tugging his collar from his neck. “What’s your favorite movie?” he asks after clearing his throat.

  “Pride and Prejudice. The one with Kiera Knightley.” I take a sip of my wine.

  “Huh. The movie? I thought most women loved the book.”

  “Yeah. I admit…I tried to read the book a million times. I just couldn’t get through it. I kept thinking to myself, 'What the hell are these people talking about?'” I overshare, before giggling. The wine is obviously messing with my filter.

  He laughs at me. “Can’t say I’ve read that one.”

  “What’s your favorite book?” I ask, switching up his question a bit. He definitely strikes me more as a reader. The thought of him in a movie theater nearly makes me laugh out loud.

  “Lessons the Successful Man Must Never Forget.”

  “I don’t think I’ve heard of that one. Good stuff?”

  Cannon nods, getting this faraway look in his eyes. “The best. It was my grandfather's favorite. He loved business books, personal development stuff.” His voice cracks, just a little.

  His tone makes me brave enough to make my own confession. “I'm an absolute junkie for personal development books.” The reading I did as a teenager planted seeds in my head, seeds that gave me the courage to leave my family's trailer, to open my own business, to break the toxic cycles I grew up in, to pave the way for a better life for Jessa and me.

  He jerks an eyebrow and one corner of his mouth curls approvingly. "Gramps's entire collection is in my library. Maybe I can show it to you sometime..."

  I bite down on my lip to tame my own smile. "Maybe..."

  Our eyes linger for a while. Too long. I find myself blushing and looking away. Lexi Robson is not a blusher. Oh my gosh. What is this man doing to me?

  “Okay. Subject change. Getting really deep here with this one. Who would you die to protect?” I ask finally without consulting the printout. I half-expect him to say something selfish, like himself.

  He thinks for a while. “My niece, Callie. Her dad's in jail. Her mom fucked off. The kid's been through too much. She doesn't even like me but I'd do anything to shield her from more pain.”

  There have been rumors around town about Eli Kingston's imprisonment. It's hard separating truth from lies so I've avoided forming opinions. I also never took the time to consider the impact something like that would have on a child.

  I giggle a little. "She doesn't like you?"

  Cannon rubs the back of his neck and grins sheepishly. "Nah, she doesn't like me. But it's all good. I love her enough for the both of us."

  My heart is in my stomach. Dammit. Why does he have to go and be so sweet sometimes? Ugh. It’s hard to keep hating him when he starts acting like an actual human. When he goes and says things like that, I can’t help but want to kiss him. His face tells me he feels it, too.

  Our eyes hold again. He stretches across the t
able, and I think he’s going to touch me. He’s going to kiss me. My insides dance.

  But instead, he drops a glittering engagement ring next to my plate. All emotion evaporates from his face. “You’ll wear this.”

  My smile falls.

  Oh, never mind. Mr. Billions is back.

  20

  Cannon

  I stand near the antique liquor cart in the dining room, eyeing Lexi as she interacts with my mother. My chest swells at the sight. It’s clear that Stormy is outside of her comfort zone here with my family. I thought nothing would faze that woman, but she’s less than her usual feisty self at the moment. Still, she’s charming. She’s adorable.

  She’s exactly the woman I want to take to bed.

  My brother Jude walks up to me, digging an elbow into my side as he sets his teacup into a delicate saucer. I know he doesn’t drink during football season, but damn, the tea thing is kind of strange?

  “How long are you staying?” I ask Jude.

  “I’ll be out in twenty four hours.”

  “Well, thanks for coming,” I mumble, unable to take my eyes off of Lexi. She’s wearing this loose-fitting plum-colored little number with a skinny belt at the waist, and she looks absolutely stunning. Those legs go on for-fucking-ever.

  “I just flew in for the entertainment, bro. Your fake fiancée meeting the parents? You kidding me? I wouldn’t miss that.”

  I level him with a look. "You need to keep your freaking voice down. And for a surly recluse, Walker really does gossip a lot." I head for the empty dinner table and my younger brother follows me.

  Jude’s not exactly the marrying type. He’s more focused on sleeping his way through football groupies at the moment. So if he tries to embarrass me today, I wouldn’t be the slightest bit shocked.

  Callie is running around, helping the ladies set the table. Everything is prepared and we’re already seated, as the little one carefully places the forks around our placemats. She drops her last fork off at the seat next to mine.

  "Thank you, Callie," Lexi says from beside me. She and the child share a smile.

  "You're welcome," my niece says, good-manneredly. Then she turns and gives me a weird look. “Grandma! There’s no more forks!”

  Well, that’s messed up. I have a sneaking suspicion the girl planned for everyone to receive silverware except me.

  “Yes, there are,” my mother calls back. “You left one here on the counter, honey.”

  I eye my niece, and she grins. Christ, she’s going to be too smart and too mischievous for her own good. She’s going to be more like her father than I care to admit.

  When my parents, niece, and two brothers join Alexia and me at the dining room table, I finally announce some of the wedding details.

  “I apologize up front for the late notice, but the wedding will be happening this weekend.”

  “Wow. This weekend?” My mother sits back in her chair with a worried expression.

  “Man,” Jude speaks up, clearly disappointed to be missing out on further entertainment. “I’ve got a game this Sunday. I won’t be able to make it.”

  I shrug. “So be it. I understand not everyone will be able to drop everything, and I don’t expect you to. Honestly, I don’t care who is there. Alexia and I just can’t wait to begin our life together.” I eyeball my fake fiancée sitting next to me. The way she smiles back at me makes me forget this is all a lie.

  “I sure wasn’t expecting this all to move so quickly, but I’m here to help in any way I can,” my mother says with a smile.

  I was with Margot for so long and that relationship was obviously going nowhere. So even though this engagement to Lexi is moving at lightning speed, I think Mom's just ecstatic I’m settling down. She’d be willing to marry me off tonight if that’s the timeline I gave her.

  “Where will the wedding take place?”

  She looks at Stormy, but I answer for us both. “We expect it’ll be a small ceremony, and we’ll—”

  “We’re actually thinking of the rooftop above my bridal boutique,” Lexi interrupts smoothly. “If that's all right with you.” She glances at my father for his approval.

  Huh. I didn’t realize she was a step ahead of me. It’s kind of hot.

  Ma nods. “A rooftop wedding? That's so romantic. What about a guest list? Who and how many are we looking at right now?”

  My gut twists as I answer her. “The one person I’d really like to be there is Gramps.”

  Dad clears his throat and winces. “I don’t think that’ll be possible, son. You know he’s sick, and arranging for him to leave the nursing home will be a logistical nightmare.”

  My mother smiles softly and then places her hand on top of mine. She gives Dad the pleading look that would make him move heaven and earth for her. “Honey, we’ll make it happen. I know how much this means to you.”

  I take both of Ma’s hands in mine. “Thank you.” My voice cracks. When I risk a glance at Lexi, I catch her watching me curiously. Our eyes lock, and the warmth I see in her gaze blankets my body.

  “Dear, do you have a wedding dress yet?” Mom’s working through her mental checklist.

  “No, not yet,” Alexia answers embarrassedly. "I think I may have too many gowns to choose from at the shop. It's overwhelming."

  “Well, I don’t want to put you on the spot, but you’re welcome to wear my wedding dress. I promise, it’s not awful,” Ma laughs.

  The bride-to-be gasps. “Oh, that’s too generous, Mrs. Kingston. I couldn’t accept.”

  “I just want you to consider it. I'll grab it, and you'll let me know what you think. No pressure,” she promises, already halfway down the hall.

  Stormy flashes me a nervous look as if she's waiting for my blessing to accept my mom's offer. I lift a shoulder and give her a half-smile. If she likes the dress, I see no good reason why she shouldn't wear it. Fake wedding notwithstanding.

  When my mother comes back into the dining room, I watch Lexi’s eyes light up. I can tell she was not expecting this. The gown may be over thirty years old, but it’s simple and classic. It’d look amazing on my bride.

  My bride...I like the way that sounds.

  Christ, I'm starting to lose my grip on the line between real and fake.

  “Oh, Mrs. Kingston. It’s so gorgeous,” Lexi gushes, rising to meet Ma. She delicately runs a finger over the material. “It’s whimsical. It’s perfect." She glances at my mother with wide eyes. "I-I'm a bit clumsy. Are you sure about me wearing it?”

  “Absolutely, dear. I don't have any daughters of my own and by the time Callie is ready for marriage, brides will probably be traipsing down the aisle in skin-tight, silver-plated dystopian jumpsuits or something like that.” The women share a laugh.

  She holds the dress over Alexia's body and my fiancee touches it reverently, like she's scared it will fall apart in her hands.

  My niece rises onto her knees and leans across the table with a mouth full of bread. "It looks like a princess dress." She eyes Lexi amorously.

  "You like it, Callie?" my wife-to-be asks.

  "Yes," the child says definitively. The two share a smile and I instantly know Lexi has just earned herself a friend.

  Meanwhile, my brothers continue silently shoveling food into their faces, completely uninterested in the wedding plans. I should be gorging down right along with them. After all, this wedding isn't even for real. But I find myself invested in all the details.

  “Is your mother helping with the wedding planning?” Mom asks Lexi as the women settle back at the table. “I don’t want to step on anyone’s toes.”

  “Oh, no," Lexi says, face reddening. "My mother and I aren’t on speaking terms.”

  No one says anything for a minute. I can’t fight the urge to reach over and drape my arm protectively around Alexia’s chair because this turn of conversation is awkward as hell. Luckily, no one presses her on her family drama.

  Silently, I wonder what happened with her family. Why are she and her mother e
stranged? Does she have a better relationship with her father? Does she have anyone other than her sister?

  The Kingstons aren't exactly a model family. We live states apart, we don't always communicate what we're feeling and we don't see each other as much as we should. But we love each other, without a doubt, and I can't imagine not being on speaking terms with my parents.

  “Well, you two don't need to worry at all,” Ma finally says, wearing a reassuring smile. “I will help with every detail you need. I don’t know if Cannon told you, but Lucas and I had very little time to plan our wedding, too." She reaches across to hold my father's hand. "I was pregnant with Walker at the time, and needed to fit into that tiny dress before I started showing!”

  "Ma, overshare much?" Walker shifts uncomfortably in his seat. The way he does anytime one of us brings up the fact that his growly ass was conceived in sin.

  “Is that what this is?” Jude speaks up with a smirk. “Is Lexi knocked up?”

  “Jude!” Mom scolds.

  My brother is such an ass. He knows the real reason Lexi and I are dashing to the altar. Yet he won't pass up the opportunity to get me in shit with mom.

  I let it roll off my shoulders with a light laugh. “No, no babies in our near future,” I assure the family. Though, the idea of getting Alexia in bed has been on replay in my head. I'm not itching to have kids anytime soon, but if procreation is the outcome of getting my hands on that beautiful woman, then so be it.

  I have to shake out my arms. Seriously, though—am I the only one sweating right now?

  Lexi’s uneasy smile reminds me of the wicked threats she made the last time I tried kissing her on that dirty bar’s dancefloor. She left very little room for ambiguity there. Clearly, physical contact is off the table between us.

  That fucking blows, but I need to keep my eye on the bigger picture here. Saving the family business. At all costs.

  Mom and Stormy continue to hash out details, and we’re one step closer to my target. We get through the meal without any major hiccups, for which I’m incredibly grateful. It's nice to get a break from constantly having to put out fires.