The Cowboy's Fake Marriage (Sweet Fake Marriage Romance Book 1)

by Bree Livingston

  The connection was horrible. “Where are you?” Yolanda’s voice was so garbled that Grace almost couldn’t understand her.

  Grace turned her back to the window. “My car broke down.”

  “What?”

  “My car broke down,” she said a little louder, as if that would help Yolanda hear her better.

  “Your car broke down?”

  “Yes, in a place called Willow Valley.”

  “Yellow Sally?”

  Grace groaned. “No, Willow Valley.” She accentuated each word, hoping it helped.

  The line cleared a little, and she heard Yolanda shuffle some papers. “Is that close to Abilene?”

  “No.”

  Yolanda scoffed. “Are you in the process of getting a rental car?”

  “Um.”

  “I don’t like that word.”

  Grace began pacing. “There isn’t a place to rent one around here.”

  “What am I supposed to tell the client?”

  “I don’t know. I’ll have to reschedule.”

  Yolanda sucked in a deep breath. “Do you know when you’ll be able to get there?”

  This conversation was going to go south in two seconds. “No.”

  “What?”

  Grace sighed. “They don’t know what’s wrong with my car yet, and the mechanic said it’s hard to get parts.”

  “I’m sorry; did I hear you wrong?”

  “No, Yolanda. I’m sorry.”

  “Well, have you offered to pay someone to take you to a town that would have a rental car?”

  She hadn’t thought of that. Maybe Jackson could drive her, but the idea of leaving Bret’s car in Willow Valley made her nervous. “No.”

  “Well, try that.”

  “I don’t want to leave the Mustang here.”

  Yolanda took a deep breath. “Look, Grace, I know losing Bret was awful. I know you’ve had trouble. The first few months, I tried to be understanding, but it’s been eight months now. You’ve lost your drive. Is this something you even want to do anymore?”

  That was a question she’d been asking herself since Bret’s death, but she didn’t want to think about the answer just yet. “My design won this client.” She paced faster, heat racing up her neck.

  “Yeah, from a design you did almost a year ago. Admit it; your heart isn’t in it anymore.”

  That wasn’t far from the truth. Despite the pep talks she gave herself, she didn’t have it in her to care anymore. The funk she’d try to push away seemed to settle over her. “I want my heart to be in it. I love designing.”

  “Well, until you actually want it, maybe you need to take a break.”

  Grace’s heart stopped. “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying that when you’ve got your head in the game again, call me. Until then, I’m afraid your time at Westhall is over.”

  Yolanda was right. Grace sat down hard on the bed and put her head in her hand. It wasn’t fair to the company to keep a designer who wasn’t pulling their weight, and the past eight months, she hadn’t. “Okay.”

  “There’s no rush. You can pick up your things anytime you’re ready. Okay?”

  “Sure. I appreciate that.”

  “Good luck, Grace, and if you need a reference, I’ll give you a good one.”

  “Thanks.”

  Grace ended the call and set her phone on the bed. She twirled her ring around her finger with her thumb. What would Bret want her to do?

  She lifted her head and looked around the room.

  What if she could get this old house back in shape? It’s not like she had a lot in Houston to go back to. Her family lived in Corpus Christi now. Houston was where she was going to build a life with Bret. With him gone, it was just a big city with sad memories.

  She wondered if Jackson would let her stay if she offered to help get the bed and breakfast going again. If anyone could work hard, it was her. How many splinters had she picked out of her fingers? How many scraped hands or elbows had she received?

  Grace smiled and headed out to find Jackson. Maybe his guest would be gone and they could come to an agreement. She’d offer her services if he’d let her stay at the house. Maybe a change of scenery would give her the chance she needed to pull herself together and get her life back on track.

  When she got outside, both Jackson’s pickup and the woman’s car were still parked out front. Only, they were nowhere to be found. Raised voices filtered from the side of the house, and she followed the source to a barn, stopping outside as the conversation became clearer.

  Chapter 4

  Stalking off to the barn was meant to get Hannah off Jackson’s back. Couldn’t she take the hint that he didn’t want to talk anymore? She hated the smell of horse manure, hay, or anything else even remotely related to country living or farming. That’s why she’d left him. Well, no, that wasn’t the only reason. Their problems had only been exacerbated by it.

  “Jackson, slow down!” Hannah called after him. Her spindly little heels were sinking into the grass, making it hard for her to keep up. It made him want to walk faster, just to see her take a nosedive in the grass. His uncle would have coldcocked him for even having the thought. No matter how someone treated you, you never stooped to their level or wished them harm. Why did his uncle’s words have to play in his head all the time?

  He stopped inside the barn and faced her, his hands on his hips. “Go home, Hannah. We’re not married anymore. We haven’t been together for a year, and there’s nothing to talk about.” He’d talked until he was blue in the face. Why couldn’t she move on? What would it take to make her see that they were no longer a couple and never would be again?

  “I’m sorry. I was wrong.”

  Jackson straightened and crossed his arms over his chest. “About which part? Trying to convince me to sell this place for its mineral rights, or for cheating on me with your dad’s newest and youngest business partner?”

  “All of it.”

  “So, you don’t want me to sell Willow Bend?” He lifted an eyebrow, knowing full well what her answer would be.

  She put her hands on her hips. “You were offered six million dollars for a property that’s worth, at best, a million—and that’s on a good day. Was it so bad to want to take the money and live our lives without worry?”

  And there was the rub. She still didn’t get it. Jackson couldn’t picture her ever getting why he wanted to keep the place. “I wasn’t worried. I’m fixing this place up. In a year, it’ll be up and running.”

  Hannah’s eyebrows knitted together. “In a year, this place will still be a dump, and you’ll still be six million dollars poor.”

  Money. That’s all she seemed to care about. “It’s not all about the money, Hannah. It’s about my family. My heritage. This place means something to me. I would’ve been working on it sooner if I could’ve.” His grandpa had put a stipulation in the will that if Quincy didn’t want the place, Jackson could have it when he turned thirty. Apparently, it was the magical number that somehow imbued common sense enough to take ownership of the place. He hadn’t moved home right away, either. After his grandfather died, he’d stayed in Houston to try and save his marriage. It had ultimately been a waste of time.

  Hannah scoffed. “There is no way my dad is going to let you keep this place.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “What did you say?”

  Her eyes widened like she’d let loose a secret she hadn’t meant to. “Nothing.”

  “Hannah Marie, you best get to talkin’.” Jackson took a step toward her. “Now.”

  “Dad bought the mortgage on the house. He’s going to make you pay the mortgage in full, or he’s going to foreclose on you.”

  Jackson’s lungs suddenly felt deprived of air. Pulling his hat off, he sat down on a nearby bale of hay, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. “Foreclosed?” This place had been in his family for forever. His grandpa had left it to him—entrusted it was more like it. How
could this be happening?

  “I’m sorry, Jackson. I tried to talk him out of it. I swear I did. I know this isn’t where I wanted to live, but I know you love it.”

  No matter how hard he gulped air, he couldn’t get enough. He lifted his head and locked gazes with Hannah. “How long?”

  “He wants us married.”

  Jackson stood as anger flooded him. It was a cheap ploy and one her dad had to know wouldn’t work. “What?”

  “You heard me.”

  “That’s not happening. Did you put him up to that?” It wouldn’t have been farfetched to think that. Hannah had begged Jackson to take her back more than once. The trust was gone, though.

  Hannah cast her gaze to the barn floor. “No,” she said softly.

  “Don’t lie to me. I hate that. Don’t ever lie to me. That’s what killed us.” When he caught wind of her affair, he confronted her. He pleaded with her to be honest and tell him the truth, but she refused. Instead, she clung to the lie. He would’ve been willing to work it out if she’d been honest, but without trust, the relationship was dead. “And if I don’t marry you, how long do I have?”

  Hannah exhaled. “You’ve got three months.”

  It felt as if he’d been kicked in the gut. “I have to come up with a hundred thousand dollars in three months?” He had money left from his rodeo days, but between splitting with Hannah and living on it for the past year, he didn’t have enough to fix up the property and pay off the mortgage.

  “The developer has offered him the same deal he offered you. The only reason he’s giving you three months is because you were family.”

  Jackson grunted. “Right. Family.”

  Hannah took a step toward him and placed her hand on him arm. “We could try again, Jackson, or…”

  “Or what?”

  She smiled. “You could sell it. We—”

  “Sweetheart, are you in here?”

  Jackson jerked his attention to the entrance of the barn. Grace? Why was she calling him sweetheart? “Uh, I’m in here.” He put his hat back on and wondered what this woman was up to. This engaged woman, he reminded himself.

  “I’m sorry to interrupt,” she said, approaching them.

  Hannah looked from Jackson to Grace. “Who is this?”

  “I’m his fiancée. Who are you?” Grace asked.

  His eyes widened. What was she doing? He’d give it a second to find out where she was going with this fiancé business. If he didn’t like the road, he’d put the brakes on.

  “Fiancée,” Hannah choked. “What?”

  “I’m sorry. I overheard you talking about the house? Selling it?” Grace asked.

  Now he understood. It was still nuts, but he’d seen the way her eyes twinkled as she spoke about the house when she first saw it. With the way she reacted, it was no wonder she was trying to save it. But why say they were engaged? What should he do? Play along? He was tired of Hannah butting into his life. Maybe if she thought there was no chance, she’d back off.

  But what about the house? Could he come up with a hundred grand in three months? He didn’t have the money to pay it off on hand, but he had what he needed to fix up the place. There had to be a way. A flicker of determination settled into the pit of his stomach. He’d rather be foreclosed on than give up.

  He put his arm around Grace’s shoulders and pulled her close. “No, darlin’, I’m not selling. I know how much you love this house.”

  “Jackson, what’s going on? You’re engaged?”

  He smiled and locked gazes with Grace. “It happened kinda suddenly.”

  Hannah grinned. “Jackson, we’ve known each other a long time. You don’t watch a movie without doing a week’s research. There’s no way you’re engaged.”

  Oh yeah? Anger ignited in him. Who was she to question him? He moved to plant a kiss on Grace’s lips but stopped short. Now he wished he’d had a chance to ask Grace about the ring. If she was engaged, what would her fiancé think? Why was she doing this? Should he be worried about an angry man hunting him down and asking him why he’d kissed her? What if he was huge? Jackson was pretty fond of his face.

  “It’s okay,” Grace said, giving him a smile and a slight nod to back up her words.

  As he held her gaze, he realized that, for some unknown reason, he trusted her. Maybe Grace had one of those open relationships? Well, if she did, he wasn’t interested in that, but he did want to stick it to Hannah. Without another thought, he went for it.

  Jackson cupped Grace’s cheek and hoped she could see how desperate he was to prove Hannah wrong. Like the secret word to a clubhouse, she smiled and circled her arms around his neck. When he pressed his lips to hers, he expected the feeling of an unspoken business deal. Instead, he got fireworks, which was a little more than he bargained for, but he kept himself in check and the kiss brief. He didn’t want to make Grace uncomfortable or risk the vengeance of an angry fiancé. He pulled away and faced Hannah.

  Hannah smiled at Grace, but the look she was throwing was anything but sweet. “Would you mind if I spoke to my ex-husband for a second? Alone.”

  Grace looked at Jackson like she was waiting for him to approve it.

  “It’s okay, honey. Go on to the house. I won’t be long.”

  Grace nodded. “Okay, sweetie. Maybe we can grab lunch? I’m getting a little hungry, and you promised me a date.”

  He winked. “I never go back on a promise.”

  Grace squeezed his hand and walked out of the barn. For the first time, he found himself watching her walk. She’d come by her name honestly. It was like watching a dancer glide away. She filled out her slacks pretty well too.

  Hannah grabbed his elbow and spun him to face her. “So, want to explain that?”

  “What do I need to explain? We’re divorced.” He yanked his arm away. “Remember? I wasn’t good enough, this place wasn’t good enough, and you didn’t want to be trapped with a guy who gave up a great rodeo career and turned into a loser.”

  Ignoring his comment, she said, “Where did you meet her?” Her lips were pressed so hard together it was a wonder they weren’t turning into diamonds.

  “Uncle Quincy set us up.” It wasn’t a lie. His uncle was the reason Grace was at his home.

  Hannah crossed her arms over her chest. “When?”

  “I don’t have to give you anything, Hannah. I’m engaged. I’m happy. That’s all you need to know.”

  “I realize I made a mistake, but—”

  Jackson bristled. Is that what she called it? He knitted his eyebrows together as he faced her. “A mistake? You make it sound like you tripped and fell into bed with Wes. Not only did I give you a chance to come clean, but I practically begged you to. I even offered to go to marriage counseling. Do you remember what you said to me?”

  Hannah looked down. “I remember.”

  “You looked me in the eyes and told me that marrying me was the single worst thing you’d ever done in your life, and you couldn’t for the life of you remember what it was about me that made you think you could love me.” The night she said that, it had crushed him. He wasn’t good enough. He’d never be good enough, and she was throwing him away.

  His parents had thought the same thing, which is why Uncle Quincy had been the one to raise him. No one ever wanted him for long. He was as useful as a tick on a hound dog. In a year, he’d done so little that no one could tell he was even working to get the house fixed up. Truth be told, between his split with Hannah and his lack of significant progress on the house, his confidence had taken a beating recently.

  “Jackson, you loved me better than I ever deserved, and I’ve realized that I’ll never have that with another man. They’ll never be able to give me what you did. You loved me, faults and all.” Hannah palmed his chest, and their eyes locked. “I was so wrong to say that. I can’t tell you how sorry I am that those words ever left my lips. If I could take that night back, I would.”

  If she’d said those words a few months ago, he might�
�ve considered it, but now? It’d been too long. “You can’t take back that night. You can’t change that you left me for another man. The ink’s been dry on our divorce papers for almost a year now. We’re done.”

  Her lips were set in a thin line as she lowered her gaze. What right did she have to be mad that he’d moved on?

  Jackson exhaled softly. He was tired of fighting with her. This was their dance every other month, and he didn’t want her coming back again. “Look, we were together a long time. I know moving on is hard, but we both need to. Find someone who loves you the way you want to be loved. I don’t wish you ill, Hannah. I want you to be happy, but that’s not going to happen with me. Not now, not ever.”

  When she lifted her head, she met his gaze head-on. “You better hope you have the money to pay this place off. Whatever help you might have expected from me is gone.” Without another word, she stalked out of the barn.

  Jackson leaned his back against the barn wall, pulled his hat off, and raked his hand through his hair. He hadn’t meant to hurt Hannah. That wasn’t what he wanted at all, but she needed to finally understand that their chance was gone.

  He pushed off the wall. At the moment, he needed to find Grace. She had some explaining to do. Lots and lots of explaining.

  Chapter 5

  Grace paced in the parlor room in front of the couch that didn’t fit at all with the time period of the house. On top of that, it was a pattern that should have been pictured next to the word hideous in the dictionary. Who in their right mind would have picked pale pink and dark green check with pink roses thrown in? Yuck. If only the couch was the biggest issue.

  Oh, she’d been so impulsive. But that was Grace Maddox, running in without a second thought. Bret would get so mad at her when she did things like that. It made her wither a little, wondering what he might think of her.

  What could Jackson possibly be thinking? What had she been thinking? Barging in and claiming she was engaged to a complete stranger? It was just…the house. He couldn’t sell it. It had been in his family since the 1800’s. All it needed was some TLC. And then that woman!