A Brush with a Billionaire

by Lorana Hoopes

  “You sacrificed yourself for me,” Sam joked up at him, clutching her chest and batting her eyes. She played the trope part of a dying lover well.

  “I had to.” He brushed her hair back from her forehead. He meant it to be funny, but a blanket of emotion covered his shoulders as he stared down at her. The urge to kiss her pulsed through his veins, but he swallowed it. He wasn’t sure she was open to it, and he didn’t want to overstep any bounds. “I need someone to fix my car.”

  Sam snickered and swatted his hand away. “Ever the gentleman.”

  He smiled, covering up the warring emotions battling in his brain. If she only knew.

  Chapter 6

  Sam dusted off her backside as she stood. “Since we’re out, should we return this gear?”

  He shook his head, not ready to part with the Old West clothing. “Let’s see if we can keep it a little longer.”

  The boyish eagerness in his voice elicited a grin and a chuckle from Sam. “Okay, well then what next?”

  Brent pulled out the folded map from his pocket and glanced over the options. “It’s too early for lunch, so bobbing for apples?”

  She pulled back her shoulders and puffed out her chest. “I should tell you I’m a phenom at bobbing for apples, but if you don’t mind being schooled, then lead the way.”

  “Oh, you are, are you?”

  His voice contained a teasing tone and his eyes sparkled as he looked at her. The handsome lines of his face stirred a desire within her, and she averted her eyes as the heat between them coursed through her.

  Brent cleared his throat and touched the map. “Looks like it’s to the market we go then.” After folding it, he held out his hand.

  Sam took it after a moment’s hesitation. Not that she didn’t want to hold his hand, but she wasn’t prepared for the emotions that were battling in her head and heart.

  The two wound their way through the crowd still watching the shootout to the supermarket. Jaxon, a teen employee, and Gabriella, the supervisor of the market, stood at the apple bobbing station. Gabriella’s long dark hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and her darker skin glistened in the sun. Sam had been jealous of her beautiful skin tone from the moment she met her.

  “Oh, man, are you Derek McCloud?” Jaxon asked as they approached.

  “Derek McCloud?” Sam asked.

  “My Night Ranger character’s name,” Brent returned.

  “Oh Mylanta,” Gabriella sighed. “I’ve seen every one of your movies. Do you think we could get an autograph?”

  “Sure, do you have a pen?” Brent patted his chaps. “I didn’t really bring one with me.”

  Jaxon pulled one out of his pocket while Gabrielle looked around for something to write on, but there was nothing close.

  “Would you sign our shirts?” she asked.

  Brent chuckled. “Sure, it wouldn’t be the first time.”

  “It’s Gabriella, and this is Jaxon with an x.”

  “Man, I gotta tweet about this too.” Jaxon whipped out his phone and snapped a picture as Brent signed Gabriella’s shirt.

  “Here, let’s take one together.” Brent wrapped his arm around Jaxon and smiled as Jaxon snapped another picture. Then he signed Jaxon’s shirt as well.

  “Thanks Mr. McCloud.”

  “You can call me Brent, and you’re welcome.”

  “Are you two ready then?” Gabriella asked, but her eyes never left Brent’s face.

  “Sure, Gabriella. I told Brent here about my bobbing skills, so how do we get started?”

  “There are twelve apples in each bucket. You can bob from this one and Brent can bob from Jaxon’s. We’ll start the timer. You have one minute and whoever gets the most wins.”

  Sam tucked her hair behind her ears and turned to Brent. “You ready?”

  He smiled at her challenge and took up a position in front of Jaxon’s bucket, folding his arms behind his back.

  Sam assumed a similar stance and waited for the cue to begin. When she heard the bell, she dipped her head into the water. The warm water held no shock, but the apples were large and kept slipping away. She sank her teeth into one, pulled it out and dropped it in the collection bucket. Water dripped into her eyes as she returned for more.

  “Time,” Gabriella said a moment later.

  Sam wiped her eyes, disappointed in the haul. She had lost her touch.

  “Sam has five apples.” Gabriella counted her stack and then turned to Brent’s larger stack, “and Brent has … ten? Wow, impressive work for one minute. You must be a man of many talents.”

  A mischievous smile flitted across Brent’s face, and he shrugged. “What can I say? I’m a natural.”

  “You get to pick a prize from the top shelf.” Gabriella pointed to a silver rack against the storefront housing stuffed animals and other prizes. “Thanks for playing and thanks again for the autograph. Have fun you two.” After shooting Sam a conspiratorial wink, Gabriella turned to the next contestant.

  “You played me.” Sam pointed her finger at him as they moved over to the shelf.

  “You’re the one who bragged you were a phenom. You never asked me if I was any good. I simply let you think you’d win. Now pick.” Brent motioned to the top shelf.

  “No, you won, so you get to pick.”

  “But I want it to be something you’ll enjoy as I’m giving it to you. Consider it a thank you for letting me crash at your place.” Brent's eyes held her gaze, and more than a thank you flickered in them.

  Sam turned her head and pointed to a stuffed bear on the top wearing cowboy boots and a cowboy hat. Brent stretched up, plucked it off the shelf, and handed it to her. As their fingertips touched, another spark ran up her arms, and she flicked her eyes up to see him staring down at her.

  Her heart thudded so loudly in her chest she feared it was audible. His eyes danced back and forth as they looked from her eyes to her mouth and back. It was obvious Brent wanted to kiss her, but he was leaving Monday. There was no point in allowing an experience if he would be gone in less than forty-eight hours.

  “Lunch?” Sam took a step back severing the connection. Brent stared at her a moment longer before nodding and following her to the café.

  “So, have you really signed people’s shirts before?” Sam asked as she and Brent sat at one of the free tables.

  “You would be surprised what I’ve signed,” Brent said with a laugh.

  “Oh, my goodness, are you Derek McCloud?” the blonde waitress asked as she approached the table. Sam recognized her from church, but didn’t know her well.

  “Does this happen everywhere you go?” She asked as Brent signed a napkin for the waitress.

  “Not everywhere. Some people are like you and haven’t seen my movies.”

  “But don’t you get tired of it all?”

  Brent’s smile faded and his voice turned serious. “Yeah, sometimes I do.”

  Silence fell then and Sam bit the inside of her lip. She hadn’t meant to ruin the mood.

  The waitress returned a moment later and took their order, but the silence remained.

  “Do you ever think about giving it up?” Sam finally asked.

  Brent looked at her. “I started writing a story last night. It may not amount to much, but it felt good to be writing again. I’d forgotten how much I missed it. And yes, I often think about giving it up.” He paused for a moment. “Do you ever think about living somewhere bigger?”

  Sam shook her head. “I don’t know. I lived in the city once, and it wasn’t quite what I hoped it would be. Small town life just suits me better I guess.”

  The food arrived and, after a prayer, they both dug in, but Sam couldn’t help wondering if Brent was thinking as she was - that they were just too different to make something work.

  After lunch, they climbed up on the wagon for a hay ride, but although forced to squeeze next to each other, Brent did not take her hand again. Sam fought the urge to grab his, knowing it would only send a conflicting message. She had se
nt off a signal she wasn’t ready for more. Now, she needed to convince her heart of that.

  After the ride, they returned the rented gear and stopped into City Hall to pick up their picture before calling it a day.

  “Ah, you’ve returned. Which pose do you prefer?” the woman asked as she laid out two pictures.

  Sam’s eyes fixed on the silly pose. The photographer had captured the emotion flowing between them. No one had stared at her like that in ages.

  The photographer caught her eye. “That's my favorite too. You two make the cutest couple.”

  “That one it is then.” Brent pulled money out of his pocket.

  “Wait, we only get one picture?” Sam asked. “But who will keep it?”

  “I suppose you must share it.” The photographer winked at the two of them.

  Sam didn't miss the subtle hints, but come Monday, Brent would leave, and this time would be nothing more than a memory. Her heart ached at the realization.

  Brent took the picture, and they turned to exit, almost running into Skylar and Jasmine, who worked at the diner. As Sam watched Jasmine snuggle into Skylar’s arm, a pang of jealousy stabbed her heart. If only Brent weren’t returning to Houston. If only they weren’t from different worlds.

  After clearing her throat, she pasted on a smile and looked up at him. “Ready?”

  He motioned for her to lead the way, and they trekked back to the truck. The late afternoon sun cast shadows on the pavement, and Sam’s mind wandered. What would kissing Brent McKasson be like?

  She sneaked a glance at Brent as she opened the door. He looked as exhausted as she felt, but happy. The stiff city posture was gone from his shoulders, and his face had relaxed into a natural smile instead of the tight scowl he had worn when she first met him.

  Sam's cheeks warmed as she imagined his strong arms around her. Brent's brown hair rustled in the breeze, and she couldn’t help picturing running her fingers through it or imagining his face pressed against hers.

  Get ahold of yourself, Sam. You said you would not fall for this guy.

  She blinked to clear the image and climbed in the truck, but the thought stayed. He had seemed so different, donning cowboy gear and even losing the shootout to check on her. Then there had been the almost kisses. Why hadn’t she let the kiss happen? She needed to know if this connection between them was real.

  Sam glanced down at the stuffed cowboy bear resting on the seat in between them. Today had been the most fun she’d had since moving here though that was mainly her fault.

  Having not developed a close friendship in town yet, she had thrown herself into work. She’d dined at Marnie’s a few times and even ventured into the Silver Spoon once on karaoke night, but everyone had seemed so close that she wasn’t sure she would fit in, so she’d never really tried. Once she’d met Fanny and Norma and the others who lived on the outskirts of town, she had stayed closer to home more often, but most of them were much older and had other interests. Her loneliness had been buried until Brent showed up and reminded her how to have fun again.

  Now, the issue was that he wouldn’t be staying. His part would be in Monday, and unless it was more than his AOS, she could fix his car and have him on the road by midafternoon at the latest.

  “That was fun today.” His words broke the silence and he turned to look at her.

  “Yeah, it was. I’m glad we went, though I think I will have a few nasty bruises.” The shot to the chest had knocked the wind out of her when it hit, but the one she had taken to the leg smarted more. Sam hadn’t felt pain like that since she tried martial arts in college and took a kick to the shin that had ached for weeks.

  “Yeah, my day job isn’t usually so dangerous.” The smile he flashed sent a fluttery sensation down her spine. “I have a stunt double for all those scenes.”

  “What did you write last night? If it’s okay to ask.”

  Brent pinched his lips together and ran a hand over his chin. “I don’t know. Last night, a story came to me about a man giving his all to God after tragedy. I have no idea where it’s going or if I’ll even publish it, but your words inspired the idea.”

  A slow burn crept up Sam’s neck to the top of her ears. “Well, if you’re looking for more inspiration, you could join me tomorrow for church. Pastor Ron is a good speaker.”

  “I’d like that.”

  When they arrived at the house, Brent excused himself to the spare room to write more and Sam curled up on the couch with her Bible. She read through her devotional, but she couldn’t keep her mind off Brent and how her life would be empty again come Tuesday.

  Chapter 7

  Brent threw on his nicest shirt, wishing his bag contained something a little dressier for church. Of course, he hadn’t planned on attending church this trip, but he hadn’t planned on meeting a girl like Sam either.

  It was too bad confusion overshadowed the enjoyable activities of the previous day. The strong urge to kiss Sam had plagued him the entire day, but every time the opportunity arose, she pulled away. Was she hung up on him being from the city? Was it his money? Or did the fact he’d be leaving tomorrow play more of a role? Long distance relationships proved challenging, but Sam was special. Brent would try dating if she’d be open to it, but he wasn’t sure of her feelings.

  When they had returned to her place, he had locked himself in his room, determined to write through the confusion. Words had appeared, but the confusion hadn’t left. The story was coming along well though, and if nothing else, he was thankful for the inspiration.

  “You look nice.” Sam handed Brent a mug of coffee as he entered the kitchen. “Two sugars. That’s the way you drink it, right?”

  His heart tightened at the familiar gesture. Sam knew his preferences already, and he could picture similar breakfasts in the future, but perhaps this was merely hospitality. Brent wished, for the first time in years, he found women easier to read. “Thank you.”

  “So, I wanted to talk about yesterday.” Sam sat at the table, her eyes focused on the mug in her hands as if it was a lifeline.

  “I enjoyed the time with you.” Brent sat across from her, wondering what else was coming.

  “I did too.” She paused for a moment, twirling the mug in circles. “But I wanted to explain myself. I think you’re great, and I had a wonderful time.”

  His smile faltered at her words. He could hear the 'but' coming.

  “But you’ll be leaving tomorrow, and I don’t know if we should start something that probably won’t last.” She sneaked a glance at him through lowered lids.

  There it was. Brent's heart dropped to his feet though he agreed her words made sense. “Yeah, you’re probably right. I'll return to Houston soon and I travel a lot for work. And your life is here.”

  “Exactly.” But her words fell flat, and he wondered if she really meant them or if she was trying to convince herself.

  “Of course, I could fly out to see you or fly you to wherever I am. I have the money, Sam.”

  A spark of hope flickered in eyes for a moment before disappearing. “But how long would that last, Brent?”

  As long as it needed to was what he wanted to say, but he could see her wall was back up. There would be no convincing her right now.

  “Come on.” She stood and placed her mug in the sink. “We need to head out to make it to church on time.”

  During the quiet ride to church, Brent searched for something to say to lighten the mood, but nothing came to mind.

  Sam pulled into a parking space, and the two headed into the white church.

  “Good morning.” An plump older woman with graying hair smiled at them as they walked in the door.

  “Good morning, Tina.” Sam leaned in to hug the elder woman. “This is my friend Brent McKasson. He’s visiting for the weekend. Brent, this is Tina, the pastor's wife.”

  “Good to meet you, Brent. I hope you enjoy the service.”

  Brent nodded and grabbed the paper she held out. He glanced at it as he followed
Sam into the sanctuary. It was a bulletin, listing the upcoming events and notes for the day’s sermon.

  Sam chose a seat near the middle and Brent sat beside her. A few people wandered over and introduced themselves, but Brent’s mind remained on the woman to his left. Agreeing to be friends was one thing but sitting next to her and smelling her sweet scent presented a whole new issue.

  When the pastor spoke, Brent tried to keep focused on the sermon, but images of Sam kept flooding his mind. He wanted to experience her lips against his own.

  Before he realized it, the sermon ended. The only thing he could recall was something about God’s timing. Was that what he needed to do? Did he need to wait on God’s timing? It had been so long since he’d spoken with God that he felt rusty, but when the pastor closed the service with a final prayer, he asked God for clarity and peace.

  “Want to get some lunch?” Sam asked, touching his arm.

  Brent opened his eyes and nodded. “Sure, sounds good.”

  “Marnie’s is close and they have good food.” Sam led the way across the street.

  Marnie’s was a small casual restaurant, similar to Norma’s though a bit larger. A young perky blonde met them as they entered.

  “Welcome to Marnie’s on Madison. I’m Becky, and I’ll be your waitress today. Just the two of you?”

  Brent blinked at the sheer speed the words had exited the woman’s mouth.

  “Yes, just the two of us,” Sam said.

  “Follow me.” The girl turned and led them to a back booth. She placed two menus down and took their drink order before leaving them.

  “So, don’t get me wrong,” Brent began as he looked around the homey interior of the small place, “but does this town have any elegant restaurants? I mean if I wanted to take a date somewhere,” he paused, searching for the right word, “classier?”

  Sam smiled at him from across the table. “Are you letting your inner snob surface, Brent McKasson?”

  “No, it’s just that this doesn’t have a ‘date like’ atmosphere. Surely, this town has at least one date night restaurant.”