by Vivi Holt
“Is this all?” he asked, reaching for the luggage.
“I’ve got it …”
“No, I don’t mind.” He turned the luggage over and lifted it by its frayed leather handle. “I’ve got a car waiting downstairs to take us to the airport. I thought we could talk strategy on the plane.”
“Strategy?”
“Well, if we’re going to make it look like we’re engaged, we should probably know more about each other.”
“That’s true, I suppose.” She chewed the inside of her cheek.
“Don’t worry, I promise I won’t pry too much.”
Gwen chuckled. “Just enough, huh? So where exactly are we going?” She glanced his way.
As her gaze met his, it sent a pulse of electricity through him. He masked his reaction with a cough. “Ahem … it’s called the Ariston Resort. It’s in Gleneden Beach.”
“Sounds fancy.”
He laughed. “Yep. My cousin Newton is marrying his childhood sweetheart Heather Brownlow, and everything they do is fancy. But they’re really nice – you’ll love them. When you’re not doing wedding stuff, feel free to enjoy the resort. I understand there are several pools, a spa, shopping close by and an amazing golf course. Plus the ocean, of course.”
“What’ll you do with your spare time?”
He shrugged. “Probably play golf. Dad and my brother Dan both love it and they’ll want to head out to the course every chance we get.”
“So if things work out we might barely cross paths all weekend?” she quipped.
One eyebrow arched and he studied her face, unsure how serious she was. “I guess so.” If he had it his way. She was cute and seemed nice enough, but all he needed was for her to do her part, convince his parents he was on a path to domestic bliss and land him the CEO role. He didn’t want someone to bare his soul to or share a spiritual moment with, just act like a fiancée and otherwise leave him be.
He was ready to run Montgomery Ranches. His dad knew he was ready. This whole fake engagement was just something he’d have to push through, and one day look back and laugh about. Maybe Dad would laugh too.
Sure, he wanted to get married. One day, when he found the right woman, after he’d turned the company into the kind of business he dreamed it could be. But all that seemed to him like some kind of fairy tale. He’d almost given up on the idea since Chantelle. She’d opened his eyes to the truth – no matter what he did, how could he possibly find someone to love him for who he was?
He was a Montgomery – that was the heart of the matter. And everyone in Montana knew who the Montgomerys were and how much money they had. There was no getting past it. It seemed Gwen didn’t know a thing about him – she’d acted as though she didn’t – but she must be the only single woman in Montana who didn’t recognize him on sight.
Especially after the Billings Gazette plastered his smiling face on the front page and declared him the state’s most eligible bachelor. He shook his head, remembering the fallout. He’d barely been able to get out of his truck and walk to the office without women darting out of the shadows to give him their number. It sounded like a dream come true to his friends, who teased him relentlessly about it, but to him it was a nightmare.
He stared out the window and watched the neighborhoods flash by. This was home. He loved living in Billings. But sometimes he wished he could get away and start over some place where no one knew the name Montgomery.
Billings Logan International Airport was small, and the private jet center even smaller. The driver pulled around the back of the hangar where parking spaces were marked out on the tarmac. He drew to a stop and Heath opened the door. “We’re here.”
Gwen got out and walked around to stand beside him, one hand shielding her eyes from the sun as she stared at the hangar in front of them. “Where are we?”
He frowned. “The airport.”
“This isn’t the airport. I’ve been to the airport before. There’s a food court and lines and airplanes on the tarmac …”
“That’s over there. This is Edwards Jet Center. We keep the company jet here.”
Her eyebrows arched. “You have a jet?”
He nodded. “The company does. I use it when I need to, and so do board members or executives.” The driver walked toward the hanger with Gwen’s luggage and Heath set off after him, scanning his phone for missed calls. Two from Dan, who was Montgomery Ranches’ chief legal counsel as well as Heath’s younger brother. No doubt he was calling to ask when Heath was heading out, since he’d left for the resort earlier in the week. Two more from Adam – what were those about?
“Is this our plane?” Gwen jogged up beside him, her flats slapping against the tarmac.
Heath glanced at the jet, then nodded in assent. “Yes. I’m sorry, I have to make a call. Excuse me.” He ducked off to one side and put the phone to his ear as it rang. The weekend away couldn’t have come at a worse time – things at work were so busy, he couldn’t afford a second straight weekend offsite. But family was important to his folks – they’d repeated that over and over throughout his childhood and his early adult years. Family mattered. Whatever was going on at work, they always made the effort to attend important family events.
And they expected him to be there as well. So he just had to get through this weekend and catch up with work on Monday. Then, if everything went the way it should, Dad would announce him as CEO at the next board meeting and his future would begin to fall into place.
“Adam? It’s Heath. What’s up?”
Gwen watched Heath pace across the tarmac beside the jet, the phone to his ear and his voice a dull murmur that echoed around the cavernous hangar. What should she do? Climb on board the jet? Stand where she was and wait? She had no idea what the etiquette was in this situation. What was she thinking? She had to pretend to be the fiancée of a billionaire cowboy for an entire weekend? There’s no way she could pull that off – she couldn’t even decide whether to board the jet or stand around like a fool in the hangar.
The driver walked by again, this time carrying Heath’s luggage – a small backpack, a suit bag and a laptop case. She frowned – in comparison, it looked like she’d packed for a month-long getaway – but she’d had no idea what to bring.
Worse still, she’d come to the grim realization that she didn’t own anything nice. Her entire closet was a wasteland. She groaned inwardly, thinking of the dress she’d picked to wear to the wedding, a navy blue slip dress. It was too old, and by the time they arrived it’d be wrinkled as well. She’d worn it dozens of times to weddings, parties and more over the years, and had always loved it. But now, looking up at the gleaming white sides of the jet, she knew it wouldn’t be suitable.
A flight attendant walked by and smiled at her, then climbed the staircase at the front of the jet and disappeared through the door. Maybe she should follow …
Just then, Heath hung up the phone and hurried to her side. “Sorry about that,” he said, cupping her elbow with his hand and guiding her toward the stairs. “You could’ve boarded.”
She smiled. “I wasn’t sure.”
The inside of the jet was even more impressive than the outside. “Sit anywhere you like,” said Heath behind her.
She nodded and chose a seat against the left wall of the cabin – more like a couch, really. She ran her hand over the soft leather as Heath sat across from her, his eyes still on his phone screen. “Will your parents be joining us?”
He glanced at her. “No. They left earlier in the week. Dad and my brother Dan wanted to get a couple of golf games in before the rest of us arrived.” He chuckled. “Dad likes to think the practice will help him win.”
The plane’s engine rumbled to life and the pilot announced their departure over the PA, soon replaced by the soft strains of background music. The flight attendant took their drink orders, and before she knew it the plane was in the air. She studied Heath, who sipped his drink and acted as though he hadn’t noticed the plane move beneath them. “You s
aid something about us getting to know each other better?”
He met her gaze, then put his phone in his jeans pocket. “I think it’d be a good idea. Otherwise there’s no way we can pull this off. Mom and Nana will be all over you with questions.”
She swallowed. “Okay, so what would you like to know?”
He leaned forward and set his elbows on his thighs. “What’s your middle name?”
She smiled. “Rose.”
“Okay, Gwen Rose Alder.”
“Yep. And you?”
“Roderick.”
“No way!”
He covered his face with his hands and mumbled against them. “My great-grandfather’s name – I couldn’t make it up if I tried.” He laughed and rubbed his palms on his jeans.
She chuckled. “I like it. It’s very regal.”
“I never thought of it like that.”
“What else?” she asked, crossing one leg over the other.
He ran a hand through his hair. “Let’s see … where were you born?”
“Long Beach, California.”
“Oh? Is there really so much drama in the LBC?” His eyes sparkled.
She couldn’t help smiling at the Snoop Dogg quote. “Not while I was there – it was pretty quiet. But Snoop and I lived in different parts of town.”
“That would explain it. I was born in Billings – been there all my life. No famous rappers in my neighborhood either.” She burst out laughing and he joined her. “We should probably talk about how we met,” he continued, leaning back in his seat.
She nodded. “We could say we met at the diner, so we wouldn’t have to make it up entirely. They say when you lie, you should tell as much truth as possible so you don’t get caught out.”
He frowned. “Remind me not to trust a thing you say.”
She laughed. “Oh, I hardly ever lie. Honest.”
“And now I’ll never really know.” He winked. Was he flirting with her? She couldn’t really say, but whatever it was, she liked it. He was fun, not the stuck-up, rich guy she’d thought he might be.
They spent the next hour sharing trivia about themselves. She purposefully steered him away from questions about her marriage – she didn’t want to talk about it. Surely it wouldn’t come up in conversation, not at a family wedding.
When the plane landed at the tiny airport in Gleneden Beach, Gwen was almost sorry. It wouldn’t just be them sharing light-hearted banter any longer – now she’d have to face the rest of the family and play the role of a happy-in-love fiancée. She forced a smile and stepped out of the plane.
The cab pulled up to the resort and Gwen’s mouth fell open. Green acreage stretched as far as she could see in every direction. Slowly sloping golf causeways rose and fell, richly leaved trees softening the landscape. The resort’s main building nestled among the hills as though it had grown there. Sandstone mixed with softly painted bricks and gold accents gave the resort a luxurious but warmly welcoming feel. A sign etched into sandstone at the entrance read Ariston Golf Resort.
Heath opened the door of the car and offered her his hand. She took it, stepping out into the warm Oregon day. They were a happy couple, in love, ready to face the world.
Gwen swallowed as a woman in a lavender and gray silk dress with a straw hat perched on her head bustled toward them. Her blue eyes twinkled as she smiled. “You’re here!” she trilled, kissing Heath on the cheek. She took Gwen’s hands and studied her. “You must be Gwen. Heath’s told us all about you – well, not all but some, and we’re dying to know the rest. I can’t believe you’re engaged and we’ve never even met you! You must think us so rude, but honestly, getting information out of this boy is like pulling teeth. We’re so thrilled you’re going to be part of our family!”
“Now, now, Arlene – give the girl a chance to take a breath before you grill her.” Gwen glanced up to see a tall man with silver hair and dark brown eyes. He looked a lot like Heath. “I’m Graham Montgomery, Heath’s dad. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Gwen.” He held out a hand and Gwen shook it firmly as he eyed Heath. “And such a surprise to hear you’re betrothed to my eldest son.” Arlene jabbed him in the side with her elbow, and he coughed. “Pleasantly surprised, of course.”
“And it’s wonderful to meet you, Mr. Montgomery,” Gwen replied.
“Oh, please call us Graham and Arlene,” Arlene insisted.
Gwen ducked her head. “All right, thank you. I will.”
Arlene took Gwen’s arm and led her into the resort through the open front doors. Tall potted plants loomed on either side and a long reception desk peeled away to the left. “Don’t worry about checking in, darling,” she called over her shoulder to Heath. “We’ve already done that for you.” Then she bent her head toward Gwen’s with a conspiratorial whisper. “We have adjoining rooms. We can tap messages in Morse code to each other through the walls. Won’t that be fun?”
Gwen had to bite her lip to keep from giggling.
Arlene pulled up short and grabbed Gwen’s hand, holding it up to the light. “Oh dear, your ring is gone!”
Gwen’s eyebrows arched. She glanced at Heath, who was just catching up, but found no help there. “Well, his proposal was so impulsive, he hasn’t had time to buy one.”
Heath shoved his hands into his pockets. “That’s right, Mom. As soon as we get a chance, we’ll go shopping.”
Arlene frowned. “That’s not very romantic, Heath. You should have the ring with you when you propose to a woman.”
“Leave the boy be, Arlene,” Graham scolded. “At least he actually popped the question. Though it might have been nice for him to tell us he was dating and let us meet the girl.”
Heath sighed and slapped a hand to his forehead. “Okay, Mom, Dad, I get it. You’re right – I should’ve told you. And I should’ve bought the ring before I proposed. But you’ve wanted me to find someone for so long, surely you can’t complain about how I do it.”
Arlene’s nostrils flared and she patted Gwen’s hand, which she still held. “Yes, darling, that’s true – I’m happy to have a new daughter, regardless of how it happened.”
“Wonderful. Now can we please find our room? I know Dad is dying to get out on the course – I can almost see his forehead twitching.”
“I’m not desperate,” Graham grumbled, his hands on his hips. “But the weather is perfect and we don’t want to waste the daylight.”
Heath chuckled. “Let’s go, then.”
6
Gwen flicked through the channels and sighed. The bed was so soft and luxurious she could lay there forever. Finally she settled on a classic movie, An Affair to Remember, and laid her head back on the mountain of pillows. Why couldn’t men be like Cary Grant – tall, dark, passionate and romantic? She sighed, lifted a champagne glass and sipped, then plucked a strawberry from the bowl beside her and ate it slowly, her eyes fixed on the screen. This was the life.
Arlene and Graham had the champagne and strawberries sent up to her room so they could all celebrate the engagement. After they’d each had a glass and a few bites, Arlene had retreated to her room for a rest and the men had changed and gone out for a game of golf. She’d been relieved to discover Heath’s parents were old-fashioned enough to rent separate rooms for her and Heath. Otherwise one of them would’ve been sleeping on the floor. As delicious as the mattress felt beneath her, that would’ve been a tragedy.
She sighed again and reached for another strawberry, rubbing one foot on the soft hem of her bathrobe.
There was a rap at the door and she bolted upright, set the glass down on the table and padded to the door, still chewing. Heath leaned against the door frame with a glint in his eyes. “I see you’re enjoying yourself.”
She laughed. “I sure am. And you?”
He shrugged. “It was a good game. I won. Dad wasn’t happy.” He grinned.
“Strawberry?” she asked, stepping aside and waving toward the half-empty bowl.
He laughed. “No thanks. I just came by to
let you know we’re all having dinner together. I thought you might like some time to get dressed.”
Her eyes widened. “Is it formal? Or can I wear jeans?”
“Hmmm … did you bring any evening gowns?”
She scratched her chin. “Well … come in, I’ll show you what I’ve got.”
He followed her and shut the door. She opened the closet, where she’d hung the gown she’d brought for the wedding, alongside some light summer dresses, shirts, skirts and jeans.
He frowned. “How about I take you shopping?”
“Shopping? Where?”
“There’s a boutique downstairs. We could look there.”
“I don’t know …” Should she? It was just dinner. How formal could it really be?
“I’m buying.”
Her eyes widened. “Let’s go.”
He laughed and turned to go. “I’ll be waiting outside. Just throw something on and join me.”
Ten minutes later she felt like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman, only without the streetwalking. On the ground floor of the resort were three separate boutiques – one carrying expensive resort wear, another evening gowns and the third various brand name clothes ranging from casual to semi-formal. Heath had led her directly to the evening wear.
He sat in a chair, once again engrossed in his phone, while the saleswoman gathered an impressive array of gowns for her to try on. “Do you like green?” she asked, holding an emerald gown with one shoulder strap against Gwen’s frame.
“It’s … beautiful.” She glanced at Heath, hoping he’d weigh in, but he wasn’t looking. “How many should I buy?” she asked him.
“Three should do it,” he mumbled, his attention on whatever he was tapping on the screen.
She frowned. Fine. If he wasn’t going to help, she’d just pick what she liked. She tried on more than two dozen dresses, finally narrowing it down to three – a burnt orange strapless dress in silk, with a fitted bodice and long flowing skirt, a sea-blue sheath with spaghetti straps that clung to her, and (in honor of Julia) a deep red gown with a plunging neckline and a short train. They were easily the three most beautiful items of clothing she’d ever worn.
