The Fake Girlfriend's Billionaire Match (Caprock Canyon Romance Book 4)

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The Fake Girlfriend's Billionaire Match (Caprock Canyon Romance Book 4) Page 1

by Bree Livingston




  The Fake Girlfriend’s Billionaire Match

  A Caprock Canyon Romance Book Four

  Bree Livingston

  Christina Schrunk

  The Fake Girlfriend’s Billionaire Match

  Copyright © 2019 by Bree Livingston

  Edited by Christina Schrunk

  https://www.facebook.com/christinaschrunk.editor

  Proofread by Krista R. Burdine

  https://www.facebook.com/iamgrammaresque

  Cover design by Victorine Lieske

  http://victorinelieske.com/

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, without prior written permission.

  Bree Livingston

  https://www.breelivingston.com

  Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

  The Fake Girlfriend’s Billionaire Match/ Bree Livingston. -- 1st ed.

  ISBN: 9781701594159

  Contents

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  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

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Epilogue

  Sneak Peek! Her Pretend Billionaire Boyfriend Chapter 1

  Also by Bree Livingston

  About the Author

  Merry Christmas, everyone.

  May it be a time of joy, laughter, and love with those you call family and friends.

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  Chapter 1

  Walking into his study, Bear West held a microwave meal for one. Normally, he’d just go to his room and park in his recliner, but paperwork was calling, and since he was the boss, his name was the only one it knew.

  Setting the tray down, he hit the power button on the desktop and took a bite of…he stared down at the food…well, it was something covered in gravy. Man, he missed Bandit’s cooking, but Bear couldn’t complain or fault the guy. Finding out he had a grandfather he’d never met—and a sick one at that—Bear would’ve left too.

  After a few more bites, the screen flickered to life, and he pulled up his email account. He was a simple fella, living in the middle of nowhere. How on earth did he manage to get so many emails each day?

  “I thought I’d find you in here.” His sister, Carrie Anne, sauntered into his study and parked herself across from him. “I told you I could cook for you.”

  Shrugging, he took another bite and forced himself to swallow it. “That’s all right. I’m good.” He’d purposefully avoided her since she’d moved in while her home in town was being built. All she seemed to want to talk about was his love life, or lack thereof.

  She sighed. “You are so stubborn.”

  “And you aren’t?” He laughed. “You’re a dog with a bone. I don’t want to be involved with anyone.”

  “I care about you. You’re in this house alone most of the year. It breaks my heart. There is a woman out there desperately needing a man like you to love her. And you need her. Angela—”

  Bear quickly stood. “All right, look. I’ve been as nice as I can, but you’re living here, and it’s my house. I shouldn’t have to tiptoe to get peace. If and when I decide to date, it’ll be on my terms and when I’m ready. Got it?”

  Her lips pinched together. “Fine,” she said, her voice a little louder than normal.

  “Is something wrong here, guys?” Israel asked.

  Bear and Carrie Anne looked to the door where he stood. “No,” they replied at the same time.

  “No,” Bear said. “Carrie Anne was just coming to find you. I’ve got the monitor right here. If Camry wakes up, I’ll tend to her. Have fun on your date.” He smiled.

  Israel approached Carrie Anne and hugged her from behind. “Thanks, man. I owe you one. She’s finally asleep.” He kissed Carrie Anne’s cheek. “There are bottles in the fridge to warm if you need them.”

  Bear waved his hand. That was part of his sister’s anatomy he didn’t want to even think about. “Got it.”

  Carrie Anne resisted Israel’s pull for a moment, holding Bear’s gaze. Finally, she lowered her eyes and left with her husband. The girl loved him, but, sheesh, she was a pest.

  He sat down hard in his desk chair and went to take another bite of his meal. “Not great hot. Even worse cold.” He pushed the tray aside and began weeding through his email.

  Mr. Matchmaker? Why was he still getting these? He could’ve sworn he’d wiped his hands of that website. Knowing his sister, though, she’d signed him up again. The next time he saw her, he was putting his foot down once and for all. Either she’d quit or…something.

  He clicked on the unsubscribe button within the email, and it opened a new tab with advertisements to use their services. Hovering the pointer over the second unsubscribe button, he found himself pausing.

  Carrie Anne was already giving him grief. The holidays would be there before he knew it, and all of his family would be under his roof for six full weeks. They’d be paired off and running after their children, and Bear would just be the odd man out. It hadn’t been so bad the last few years, but with Bandit gone…he’d be the only man carrying the fifth wheel.

  Instead of unsubscribing, he clicked on the account button and tried the username and password his sister had given him. They still worked.

  He huffed and closed the window. What was he thinking? A matchmaker site? There were better uses of his time.

  Bear closed the web browser and pulled up the financial records for the ranch. His accountant wouldn’t be happy with him if his receipts were a jumbled mess come April.

  He lasted all of seven minutes before his mind wandered back to the matchmaker email. The idea of risking his heart again made him sick to his stomach. He couldn’t do it yet.

  Did he have to risk his heart? His brother Hunter had hired Reagan to pretend to be his fiancée. Granted, it’d worked out that they fell in love, but that didn’t mean Bear had to. And he didn’t have to be engaged, either. His family would be tickled if he was even dating.

  Pulling up the web browser again, he typed in the website, entered his login, and filled out the easiest information first. Then he stared at the blank space that asked him to give details about himself.

  What should he say to find a woman to pretend to date him? Who would even want him? He lived in the middle of nowhere on a ranch. Angela could barely stand a puppy, let alone a whole ranch full of animals. He couldn’t handle another woman like her. How could he make his profile interesting enough to get attention but ho
rrible enough to weed out women who wouldn’t fit?

  They wanted a picture too. He clicked on the file that held some of his photos from previous years. Scrolling through photo after photo, he finally came to one that even he cringed at. He was covered in mud after a cattle drive and sporting a beard. It would take a woman with an ability to see beyond the photo to even read his biography.

  After he uploaded the photo, he started on the biography, starting with his ranch. He didn’t want a real girlfriend, and he wasn’t looking for love. If that’s what they had in mind, they needed to move on. Then he paused as he considered what it would take to get a woman to leave her family, fly to Texas, and pretend to date him.

  Money. It needed to be good. A healthy sum, but not too crazy. Finally, he typed in two hundred thousand. The terms were set, the time frame was settled, and at the end, they’d go their separate ways.

  The pointer hovered over the publish button as he thought through his plan. He’d be lying to his family. Bringing someone into his home and asking them to lie too.

  Just then, tiny cries came from the baby monitor, reminding him he’d be the single lone wolf of the holidays if he didn’t do it. His time was up. In one swift motion, he clicked the publish button, pushed out of the chair, and said a silent prayer.

  For now, he’d tend to his niece and hope his wild scheme didn’t come back to bite him.

  Chapter 2

  Sinking into her couch, Winnie Fordham felt lower than dirt. “She took all of it, Mom.”

  “All of it? Winifred Fordham.” Law voice. The exact thing Winnie didn’t need from her mom at the moment. “You need to tell your father.”

  “I made you promise not to tell him before I told you what happened. Give me a little time to talk to Tammy. Maybe she’ll have a change of heart and return it.”

  If Winnie’s dad knew the money he’d given her was missing, he’d call her dream done and expect her to show up in his Houston law firm promptly by the next business day. Something she desperately didn’t want to do. Law was dry and boring. It didn’t give Winnie the joy cooking did.

  Her mom inhaled, and Winnie could picture her pinching the bridge of her nose. “I don’t know. This is big. Where are you going to find that kind of money? Didn’t you have a location picked out?”

  Winnie pulled her open laptop onto her legs and sighed as she scrolled through the pictures of a downtown San Antonio space right on the Riverwalk. The rent was ridiculous, but location was everything. It was perfect.

  Her hand brushed against her trackpad, and the next thing she knew, a new tab opened with Mr. Matchmaker’s website filling up the screen. Like she needed that. Life was complicated enough without a man in it.

  “Yeah,” Winnie replied as she watched profiles seamlessly change from one person to the next. “I love it too. The landlord is currently in the process of evicting the current tenant.”

  “And that’s a good spot for a new restaurant?” Her mom’s voice rose an octave. “If they didn’t make it, what makes you think you will?”

  Winnie barked a laugh. “I’ll start by not failing four health inspections in a row and sending three tourists to the emergency room for food poisoning.”

  “Oh, wow. Just remember, my specialty is divorce. Not saying I couldn’t handle a restaurant lawsuit, but don’t make me have to.” She paused, exhaling heavily. “Back to the missing money. Just tell your father.”

  A photo slid to the center of the screen, and Winnie’s eyebrows lifted to her forehead. Who would put a photo of themselves looking like a mountain man on a website like this? Out of curiosity, Winnie clicked the photograph with the intent of mocking him to ease some of the stress she was under.

  “I’m not telling Dad, and you can’t either.” Using the wheel of her mouse, she scrolled down, landing on his biography. Texas rancher. Maybe that wasn’t mud after all. She’d been to a cattle farm. Big animals produced big poop.

  Her mom groaned. “Then what are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know.” She reached the end of the biography, and her mouth dropped open as she sat up straight. “No way.”

  “What?” Her mom’s question came out in a rush. “What’s wrong?”

  The guy was willing to pay someone two hundred thousand dollars to pretend to be his girlfriend for the holidays and cook for his family. Who offered someone that kind of money to fake date them for six weeks? Better yet, who answered something like that? Perhaps someone who’d just had their dream swiped from under them?

  “Winnie? Are you okay?” Now her mom sounded frantic.

  Shaking her head, Winnie replied, “I’m fine. Just…I noticed something else about the location, and I’m sad that I might lose it.”

  “Oh, okay. For a second there, I wasn’t sure what happened.” She paused. “Winnie, your stepdad and I can loan you more money. You can pay us back when your restaurant is up and running.”

  “Let me think about it, okay?” She stared at her laptop screen. Maybe she wouldn’t need the loan. Maybe it was fate that the dating website had popped up right at that moment. “I think I’m going to get some sleep and try to call Tammy again tomorrow.”

  “All right, but think about it, seriously. We love you, and we don’t mind.”

  “Thanks, Mom. I love you.”

  “I love you too, sweetheart.”

  They said their goodbyes as Winnie pushed off the couch and began pacing. As she debated the pros and cons, she threw glances at the laptop, trying to decide if she should throw her name into the ring. Two hundred thousand dollars. That was twice what her dad had given her. She could pay him back and have the money to open her restaurant. Then she wouldn’t have the deal with him looming over her head. And what were the chances that the man was looking for someone who could cook?

  She stopped, put her thumb to her mouth, and chewed on it. Would it hurt to reply? It wouldn’t automatically mean she’d be chosen. Her chances were probably slim at best.

  Taking a seat on the couch, she set the computer on her lap and began typing out a response. When she got to the end, she frowned and erased all of it.

  She pulled up his photo again, studying it. Now that she was really looking at him, this was a man who worked hard. A ranch wasn’t easy, and it was a business that required tough owners. He wasn’t looking for love or a girlfriend; he’d been clear on that. For a brief moment, she wondered why and then dismissed it. Did it matter? She had a restaurant to open, he held the key to the funds she needed, and she didn’t want or need a man gumming up her life.

  This time, she took her time with the response. She mentioned the picture, pointing out he had to be using it to weed out women who could handle spending time on a ranch. Then she told him about her dream of opening her own restaurant, that she liked simple things like hot tea in the afternoon and nights by a fireplace. They were things she was sure he’d like, but nothing was a lie. She figured there’d be plenty of women lying to him.

  When she finished typing it out, she read it over, and once she was satisfied, she hit send and closed her laptop. If the man chose her, she’d be back in business without her father being any the wiser. If he didn’t, well, she’d cross that bridge when she got to it. For now, she’d wait and see.

  Chapter 3

  Pulling into the restaurant parking lot, Bear found a space and parked his truck. He hooked a finger between his shirt and tie, trying to loosen it. Why had he put a tie on anyway? He loosened it enough to take it off and tossed it in the seat next to him.

  He opened the driver door, grabbed his Stetson, and stepped out. It was only a few weeks before Thanksgiving, but he sure couldn’t tell by the weather. Sunny, nearly ninety, and as pretty a day as he’d ever seen. Of course, according to the weather guy, supposedly, the next week they’d be seeing snow, which explained all the traffic. People wanted to take advantage of the nice weather before they were hit with a storm.

  His phone buzzed against his hip, and he pulled it out of his jeans poc
ket, easing down on the edge of the driver’s seat. “Hey, Wyatt.”

  “The furniture just got delivered. They’re unpacking it now. Good timing, too, since the new hires are supposed to arrive soon.”

  “Yeah, I hoped it’d be there before they arrived just in case anything went wrong,” Bear said, pulling his phone from his ear and checking the time. “Uh, I probably should go. My meeting in a few minutes.”

  “Yeah, you never said what meeting that was. What are you doing in Lubbock anyway?”

  No way was Bear telling Wyatt the whole truth. That he was meeting a potential pretend girlfriend. “I’m meeting a cook. Since Bandit won’t be around, I thought it would be good to find someone to take care of all that.” He paused, feeling the anxiety build. “I don’t want Reagan taking time off from the bed and breakfast, only to find herself cooking for us.”

  Since Bandit was dealing with family stuff this year, and he wasn’t going to be spending the holidays at the ranch, someone was going to have to step up and handle a lot of kitchen time. Bear had offered to help him if he needed anything, moral support or financial, but Bandit wanted to handle it on his own. If there was one thing Bear understood, it was that. Sometimes, a man just needed to do things in his own way and in his own time.

  “Oh, well, that makes sense. Have you heard from Bandit?”

  “Nah, but I didn’t expect to, really.”

 

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