The Daring One
Cami Checketts
Birch River Publishing
Contents
Introduction by Lucy McConnell
The Billionaire Bride Pact
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Free Book
The Disenchanted One: A Billionaire Bride Pact Romance by Cami Checketts
The Feisty One by Cami Checketts
The Adventurous One by Jeanette Lewis
About the Author
Also by Cami Checketts
The Daring One: A Billionaire Bride Pact Romance
COPYRIGHT ©2017 by Camille Coats Checketts
All rights reserved
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
Birch River Publishing
Smithfield, Utah
Published in the United States of America
Cover design: Christina Dymock
Interior design: Memphis Checketts
Editing: Daniel Coleman
To my running buddies—Jennalyn and Missy. Thank you for making me laugh, forcing me run much faster than I want to, and brainstorming fun ideas for my writing.
Introduction by Lucy McConnell
I’ve heard it said that some people come into your life and quickly leave—others leave footprints on your heart. Jeanette and Cami are two wonderful authors and women who have left their mark on my heart. Their overwhelming support, knowledge, and general goodness have pushed me forward as a writer and nurtured me as a friend. That’s why I’m pleased to introduce you to their new and innovative series: The Billionaire Bride Pact Romances.
In each story, you’ll find romance and character growth. I almost wrote personal growth—forgetting these are works of fiction—because the books we read become a part of us, their words stamped into our souls. As with any good book, I disappeared into the pages for a while and was able to walk sandy beaches, visit a glass blowing shop, and spend time with a group of women who had made a pact—a pact that influenced their lives, their loves, and their dreams.
I encourage you to put your feet up, grab a cup of something wonderful, and fall in love with a billionaire today.
Wishing you all the best,
Lucy McConnell
The Billionaire Bride Pact
I, Summer Anderson, do solemnly swear that I will marry a billionaire and live happily ever after. If I fail to meet my pledge, I will stand up at my wedding reception and sing the Camp Wallakee theme song.
Chapter One
Summer plodded along the Snodgrass Trail, waiting for the promised views of Mt. Crested Butte, but so far it was a dirt path with lots of lush greenery—mostly aspen and pine trees. Crested Butte, Colorado, was beautiful, and she didn’t completely loathe exploring the trails on foot, but she would’ve traded Diet Coke for life to be on a mountain bike. Sadly, she couldn’t afford a mountain bike or an abundance of Diet Coke. Maybe after she got her first paycheck from Haley she could rent a bike for a day and go on a huge excursion with only Diet Coke in her water bottle. She laughed at herself, thinking of the bellyache she’d have.
At least when she was running, she was in tune with Mother Earth and all that schmuck. Her younger self would’ve been happily running barefoot, but she’d become disillusioned with branches and rocks poking her soles, and honestly, Mother Nature hadn’t been too kind to her lately. With her earbuds in, jamming to Mumford & Sons, she was only in sync with nature visually, but she couldn’t pound through miles on foot without some tunes.
She sensed movement behind her and jumped in surprise as she heard someone yell, “On your left!”
She dodged to the right, but the biker’s front tire clipped her heel and she went sprawling into the undergrowth. Branches and rocks scratched at her face and bare arms. Summer let loose a yelp and rolled onto her back with a groan.
She stared up through aspen leaves to the blue sky above, yanking her earbuds out. “Ouch,” she muttered, inhaling the scent of dirt and pine needles, not ready to move quite yet.
Footsteps pounded toward her, and then a man wearing a bicycle helmet and sunglasses bent over her. “You all right?” he panted out, pulling off his sunglasses and helmet and staring intently at her.
Summer blinked up at him. She must’ve hit her head really hard. Was it even possible that Channing Tatum had come to her rescue? She shook her head and blinked quickly. It couldn’t be the actor she’d daydreamed about from Dear John and The Vow. She’d even watched G.I. Joe movies to drool over him some more. This guy looked exactly like him, with the perfectly proportioned, manly face. There was a slight dimple in his cheek, even though he wasn’t smiling. His beautiful teal-colored eyes looked much too concerned. Wait. Weren’t Channing Tatum’s eyes more of a true green?
“Are you all right?” he asked again.
“Not dead yet,” she muttered.
He chuckled, and that irresistible dimple got deeper. “Your back and neck aren’t hurt?”
She nodded, then shook her head, a bit awestruck. Was it really him? Crested Butte was a cool spot; maybe celebrities vacationed here. But wasn’t Channing Tatum married? Dang. She’d better stop ogling him.
Reaching a hand underneath her upper back, he gently lifted her to a seated position. Warmth spread where his hand lingered on her back. From the way her body reacted to that simple touch, she certainly hoped he wasn’t a married and/or a famous actor. She wondered if he was gagging at the sweat that had seeped through her shirt. Tempted to sniff her armpits, she could only hope Secret antiperspirant was doing a bang-up job and she didn’t reek too bad.
“Can you stand?” he asked in a deep rumble. He sounded like Channing Tatum too. Oh, wow. Maybe fate had stopped hating on her.
“I’ll give it my A game,” she said.
He laughed, kept one hand on her back, and took her other hand, helping her to her feet. He released her hand, but kept his palm on her back. For support, or was he feeling zing too? “You made it,” he said.
She stared into those greenish-blue eyes and sighed. “Yes, I did.” They stood there looking at each other for a few blissful seconds. She couldn’t resist asking, “Are you Channing Tatum?”
His deep laughter cascaded over her. He shook his head and said, “No.”
“Oh. You probably get that a lot?”
“A bit.” He grinned, and that dimple deepened.
Summer felt relief wash over her. Yay that he wasn’t Channing Tatum, because even though that would’ve been rocking cool to meet him, if he wasn’t the famous actor, that meant this guy was available. Oh, yeah. “So you aren’t married, right?” she demanded. Then her eyes widened. Oh my. Stop, mouth!
His chuckle was a little more awkward this time, and he pulled his hand back. “No.”
“Oh, good. I thought you were Channing Tatum and he’s m
arried, so I was feeling all awkward that I was checking you out and …” Her face flared red as she finally clamped her traitorous mouth shut.
He smiled again and arched an eyebrow. “You were checking me out?”
“Whew. I think it’s time for my mouth to stop running and my legs to remember the action.”
“Wait.” He placed a warm hand on her arm. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
Summer had to think about it. She patted her lopsided ponytail, ran her hand over her scratched face, and cringed as she noticed some small cuts on her arms. “I think the permanent damage is a minimum. Why’d you run me off the trail?”
“Uh,” he kind of grunted out in what sounded like surprise. “I’m sorry. I came around the corner and there you were. I yelled twice and tried to swerve around you.” He glanced at the earbuds dangling from her neck. “Maybe your music was too loud?”
She bristled. “Maybe you should slow down or try using your own two legs for a change.”
“Whoa … What?”
She tilted her head to the side and her long hair brushed her arm. “You know what they say: Those who can’t run, bike.”
He gave another surprised half-grunt, half-laugh.
Summer flipped her hair, gave him a sassy look, and took off running down the trail. She didn’t look back to see if he was coming. Her left knee was aching. Did she slam it into the ground, or had his bike tire hit higher than she remembered? It was all a blur, and it really didn’t matter. She had to keep running and save some face. She didn’t want that incredibly handsome man to know that she’d give anything to be the one on the bike. Her opportunity to make good money and have incredible adventures with her best friend, Taylor, were gone, but she still had her pride.
Seconds later, she heard his bike approaching. Shoot. She increased her pace, but it was dumb to imagine a runner could outpace a bike. If she was going uphill then she might stand a chance, but this part of the trail was pretty level.
The biker stayed right behind her as she flew over the trail, ignoring him. Within a few minutes she was panting for air. She made a split decision and dodged off to the side of the trail, gestured for him to go past, and yelled, “Bike on through, oh high and mighty one!”
The man slammed on his brakes and pulled level with her. His helmet and sunglasses were back on so she couldn’t read his expression, but that attractive—scratch that, infuriating—smirk and dimple were in place. “High and mighty one?”
“All you bikers think you’re superior or something,” she huffed out. “I’ll have you know I’ve done both, and running is a million times more miserable. I mean, challenging.”
He took off the sunglasses, and she was happy to see those teal-colored eyes again. No, she was happy she could tell what he was thinking more easily. “I’d agree with miserable. Why don’t you bike, then?”
“None of your beeswax, dude. Move along.” She shooed him with her hands.
His smirk turned into an all-out grin. “I’m sorry, but I need to make sure you get home safe, seeing how I caused your injury and all.”
Summer planted her hands on her hips. She’d protected herself from handsome men in more countries than this yahoo knew decorated the world map. “Listen, buddy. I’ve got Mace and I am very proficient at using it.”
His eyebrows shot up again and he raised his hands. “Whoa. I’m not, no, I wouldn’t try to … do anything.”
“And I’m going to take the strange man’s word for that? I forgave you for knocking me down, but you try and follow me home, and you’ll see this tough woman kick your well-formed butt. Comprende?”
He laughed at her again, but quickly wiped the mirth off his face when she whipped her pepper spray out of her pocket. “Hey. Okay. I just wanted to make sure you’re all right. My mother taught me to be a gentleman.”
“Big claim, preppy boy.”
“Being a gentleman?”
“For sure. Every guy claims they’re a gentleman until they get a chance to take advantage when a woman’s alone and they think she’s defenseless.”
“Sheesh.” He clung to his handlebars. “Defensive much?”
“You have no idea.” She raised the spray. “Now are you moving, or am I leaving you in a cloud of this?”
He shook his head and stood his ground. Hmm. He was a brave one, she’d give him that. “You go,” he said. “I’ll follow at a safe distance to make sure you get safely out of the woods. I promise I won’t follow you home.”
Summer took a deep breath and nodded. She was being a tad bit overcautious. He hadn’t really given off any vibes that he would hurt her, but she’d wised up over the last couple of years. She used to trust and have fun kissing any handsome man that came along, but she’d learned a woman needed to be wary and always have ways to protect herself. Luckily, she’d been able to protect herself, find help, or escape when the need arose.
“Thanks,” she muttered. She pocketed her pepper spray and took off running again, keeping a decent pace, and trying to ignore the fact that he was behind her. Several uncomfortable miles later, she exited the trees and could see the town of Crested Butte and the beautiful valley spread out below her. She’d completely missed any amazing views she was supposed to see on the run. Dang that man’s good-looking face.
She went off the side of the trail and gestured him through again. The man stopped. What? Did he want her to thank him or something?
“Sorry about running you off the trail,” he said.
“It’s under the bridge,” she muttered.
He took off his sunglasses and his eyes swept over her face. She self-consciously touched one of the scratches that was stinging from her sweat. “You sure you’re okay?”
“I’m tougher than a few twigs,” she said.
“I can see that.” He smiled. “Could I … see you again sometime?”
Summer’s eyes widened. He was definitely hitting on her now. With his looks—and his money train, from the fact that his bike and gear were top-of-the-line—he could probably snag any woman he blessed with a second glance of those ocean-colored eyes. Unfortunately for him, she’d been through her share of handsome men and she was on a siesta. Her friends from Camp Wallakee would never believe it, but it was time. She needed to figure out how to be successful as Summer, not as some dude’s arm candy. Especially now that her own money train had been derailed.
“Um, no.” She smiled at him. “But thanks for asking. Try again later.” She tossed him another sassy look and ran off down the trail.
He pedaled up behind her. “How much later?” he asked to her back.
“You’re a tourist, I assume?” She loved pretending she was a local, having lived here all of two weeks.
“Maybe.”
“In town for a week?”
“Maybe.”
“Try again in two weeks, then.” She laughed to herself and took off running. If he wanted to stay behind her, that was his problem, not hers.
“I will,” he called to her back.
Summer shook her head and kept her pace up, even though she wanted to walk more than anything in the world. The trail went for another mile, and when it ended she turned onto the road that ran down past Mt. Crested Butte and into town. The guy kept a safe distance behind her on the trail, but when she hit the road he was gone. She glanced back and saw him stopped next to a Land Rover with another Yeti mountain bike already mounted on the back rack. Yep, the guy definitely had money. He turned her way and lifted a hand. She swung her eyes forward and raced down the road. It was tragic that she’d never see him again, but probably for the best. The new Summer wasn’t going to rely on anybody, especially not on a fine-looking rich dude. If only she knew how she was going to accomplish it.
Chapter Two
Chance watched the girl running off down the street and smiled to himself. She was model gorgeous with her honey-blonde hair, tan skin, deep blue eyes, and fit body, but it was her funny quips and attitude that attracted him more than her looks.
Had she really pulled a canister of Mace on him? And her response when he’d asked if she was okay: “Not dead yet.”
He smiled. Everyone needed humor in their lives, but he craved it. Especially after his business’s latest deal. He felt like the joy had been sucked from his soul when he and his brother had helped a family company, Magical Dream Toys, become solvent, then sold it to the highest bidder. Increasing companies’ value and then taking a portion of the profit upon sell was how he and his brother, Byron, had become billionaires before their thirtieth birthdays with their company Mumford’s Sons. Byron had thought it was very clever naming it after Chance’s favorite band and their dad.
This latest deal hadn’t sat right with Chance. The company they’d sold to had promised to keep the family members on staff, but Chance had received word that they’d let them all go. Too much money in payroll was tough to keep up with, but he suspected it was the new owner’s plan all along to ditch the family. The real unfortunate thing was the daughter, the toy designer, had all her designs legally locked up with the new company. She’d probably had to start all over.
Chance had called the father and creator of Magical Dream Toys, Mr. Anderson, after he heard what went down, and the older gentleman was a class act. He told Chance it was past time for him to retire anyway, and Byron had already helped Mr. Anderson’s son find another position as CEO of a company that made accessory products for Apple out of Utah. The man was worried about his daughter, a “free spirit” who had been the toy designer, but he said he was certain she had a good savings account built up and she’d land on her feet; plus, it was good for her to learn how to be on her own.
Chance still felt guilty for how it had all gone down. Byron kept telling him not to worry. It was out of their hands and it was the way business went sometimes, but it still bugged Chance. He didn’t have any information besides the daughter’s name, Gabriella Anderson, but he’d been tempted more than once to contact her and see if he could help her find a new position. He kept putting it off because he didn’t know quite what to say—I made millions of dollars when you lost your job, can I help you?
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