Her Billionaire Mistake (Billionaire Bachelor Mountain Cove Book 1)
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Her Billionaire Mistake
Billionaire Bachelor Mountain Cove
Lucy McConnell
Orchard View Publishing LLC
Contents
Her Billionaire Mistake
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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
Epilogue
Now Available from Bestselling and Award-Winning Author Lucy McConnell
About the Author
Her Billionaire Mistake
Billionaire Bachelor Mountain Cove
Kisses may happen...
But this is one mistake she won't get over.
In her efforts to reunite her grandmother with her first love, Brooklyn stumbles into Asher. He’s mysterious and funny and out to change her home town.
She won’t have it.
But she wants him.
You’ll love this sweet billionaire romance because life is messy but everyone believes love can overcome.
Pick up your copy today!
Claim your free book today!
This story is a clean contemporary Cinderella novel you can't miss.
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Chapter One
Brooklyn
“Just grab the recipe out of the box.”
“I don’t need the recipe.” Brooklyn scowled at the pan as she mentally ran through the list of ingredients for moose tracks fudge. Was it three cups of sugar for the fudge base and two for the caramel, or the other way around?
“It’s the sugar,” chimed in her cousin, Crystal, who was carefully hand-dipping orange truffles in dark chocolate. “She gets the measurements mixed up every time.”
For the love. Brooklyn had been making fudge for the Sweet Shoppe on Main Street, Eureka Springs since she and Crystal were ten years old. She should know this. “It’s the weather. It’s got me all mixed up today.” A heavy fog had rolled in off the lake and taken up residence along Main Street like it wanted to shop for a hat or tour the hotel.
“There hasn’t been a fog like this is over a decade.” Grandma Julie peered out the small window, her forehead stacked with worry lines. “It’s a bad omen.”
“It’s not a bad omen,” Brooklyn scolded. “It’s a weather pattern, which means I won’t be on Beaver Lake for a couple days.” She loved taking her paddleboard out on the water in the early morning and watching the sun come up over Billionaire Cove. It was one of the few places she could go that filled her soul. That, and the fudge kitchen owned by her grandma.
Brooklyn might not be painting masterpieces on ceilings or drawing tears with a violin, but she could make the best fudge on the planet. Others might scoff at calling candy an art form, but she’d just smile and dare them to do better. So far, no one ever had.
“Mark my words, girls. Something’s coming to Eureka Springs, and we’d all best be on the lookout for change.” Grandma shook her finger at them before going back to her task of portioning brownie batter into the three pans laying on the scarred oak countertop.
Brooklyn finally admitted defeat and wiped her hands on her pleated apron before reaching for the ancient, tin recipe box her great-great-grandmother had brought across the ocean on a boat from Italy. Most Italian families passed down pasta recipes, but not hers. Her family passed down desserts. As far as family legacies went, she’d pretty much won the jackpot.
The recipe box and the fudge shop her great-great-grandmother had started went hand in hand. The shop should have passed down to Brooklyn and Crystal’s moms, but they were both killed in a car accident fifteen years ago along with Crystal’s dad. Since Brooklyn’s dad had run out on them the year before, Grandma Julie was left with both girls. She was the best grandma on the planet, raising them on equal shares of love and chocolate.
Brooklyn glared out the window at the fog as if it had rolled right into her brain and caused her mental lapse. But she refused to let the weather get to her. Today was a fantastic day to create something delicious and bring joy to the people who came into the Sweet Shoppe. They’d need a pick-me-up after trudging through the pea soup outside.
With her attention on the window and not the recipe box, she managed to slide it off the counter and spill the cards across the floor. It landed with a clang that rang louder than church bells.
“Goodness!” Grandma’s hand went to her chest. The recipes were the lifeline of this business and a connection to their past.
Brooklyn made a calm-down movement with her hands. “Don’t worry. I’ve got it.”
She exchanged a secretive glance with Crystal. A couple of years ago, they’d digitized the contents of the box one card at a time after Grandma had gone to sleep. Even if the whole thing went up in flames, they’d have the recipes to make their treats that were sought after by chocolate connoisseurs the country over. Still, holding something in your hand that was touched by a grandmother you’d never met was pretty special, so she took great care in gathering up the cards. They’d spilled like an accordion, so they were easy to scoop up and keep in order.
As she stood, a folded, light-blue piece of paper fluttered to the floor. She squatted back down to pick it up. The paper was thick and expensive, soft and delicate, with an aged, feathered look to the creases. It looked like homemade paper, or the kind that hotels used to have for sale in their gift shop way back in the day. “What’s this?”
She set the cards in the box and began unfolding the paper. It was a letter. She didn’t remember seeing this when they’d snuck the cards up to their room to scan them in the middle of the night. Then again, they’d only been looking for recipes back then. There were several other notes in the box, written in Italian, that they hadn’t scanned either. Maybe they had seen this and skipped over it.
Inside were long, loopy letters. “My dearest Julie …” she began reading out loud, but she stopped when she realized the tenderness of the greeting.
Grandma let out a sigh. It wasn’t a long-suffering sigh like the ones she’d used when the girls stayed up late in high school talking about the cute guy in Julie’s math class. And it wasn’t the kind of sigh that said she’d given up on something. This was a sigh Brooklyn had never heard before. It was full of memories, tenderness, love, and lost dreams.
“Thomas Ward.” Grandma smiled without showing her dentures. “He was a good one.”
“Thomas Ward?” Crystal craned her neck to look at the letter. Her hand was covered in chocolate, and she couldn’t leave her spot or she’d drip across the floor. “Who is Thomas Ward?” she asked Brooklyn.
Brooklyn lifted a shoulder. Their grandpa’s name was Robert. He’d passed away before they were born, drank himself to death, as Grandma Julie would to say. Whoever this Thomas was, he had her grandmother all warm-eyed and reminiscing.
“Thomas was my first love.” Grandma’s eyes glaze
d over. “I should have married him.”
“Whoa!” Julie glanced down at the letter. Should-have-married confessions were not on the menu this morning. Her interest was piqued, and she grew eager for a good story. “Why didn’t you?”
Grandma’s life had been anything but easy. Grandpa was an undertaker and started drinking early in their marriage. He managed to keep the funeral home running for quite a few years, but he wasn’t a nice person within the walls of their home. Brooklyn firmly believed that when he died, Grandma was glad to be rid of him. She’d even asked her once why she didn’t leave him and go somewhere else. Grandma had told her that hope was stronger than booze, and God could change a man’s heart. She’d believed Grandpa would want to leave the bottle behind one day, but he never did. It made Brooklyn sad to think that Grandma had spent so many years of her life wishing for something that never happened.
Was this Thomas another one of those wishes that didn’t come true?
Grandma was lost in thought, so Brooklyn went back to the letter. “My dearest Julie,” she read aloud again. Crystal’s eyes were on her work, but her ear was tipped toward Brooklyn’s voice. “Meet me by the fountain of youth at ten tonight. We’ll be married before sunrise. I’ll serve my time and then build us a home. All my love, Thomas.”
Crystal’s mouth hung open in shock, and chocolate dripped off her stilled fingers. “Did you go?” She practically whispered the question, as if answering it would change the course of all their lives.
Grandma shook her head. She didn’t look sad, more like she’d made peace with the past. “My daddy died that night, not long after I found the letter. Thomas shipped out before I could contact him to let him know what happened. It was a different time then. We didn’t have cell phones or email.” She made swirls in the brownie batter with an offset spatula. “Vietnam was … cruel …”
She trailed off for a moment and then came back to herself with a tap of the spatula on the side of the metal pan. “As the town mortician, your grandpa helped me bury my daddy. He was so wonderful, and I needed someone to hold me. We got married shortly after that and, well, life happens.”
Brooklyn’s heart constricted. Her grandma was one of the strongest women she knew; she’d lost so much in her life. More of her family was in heaven than was sitting in this kitchen. That was one of the reasons Brooklyn hadn’t moved out and gone off to college after high school. She and Crystal had talked it over—they just couldn’t see leaving Grandma behind. She could have run the shop just fine, hired a couple of local girls to help. But they didn’t feel right about her being alone. She was their whole family, and they were hers.
Besides, it wasn’t like making candy for a living was a real sacrifice.
“Did you ever see him again?” Brooklyn asked, curious. As a woman, she loved a good mystery, and throwing in a dash of romance was a bonus.
“Never.” Grandma popped the brownie pans into the oven and set the timer. “I don’t even know if he survived the war. He was bent on getting out of Arkansas, and I was meant to stay.” She brushed off her hands and brightened into a smile, indicating the conversation was over. “It’s time to put out the welcome mat.” She hustled out the swinging door that separated the shop from the industrial kitchen.
Brooklyn carefully refolded the letter. She purposefully tucked it back into the tin and then rounded on Crystal. “We are so looking him up,” she whispered conspiratorially.
Crystal bit her lip as if she’d been holding back the same words until Grandma left the room. Her face had even gone red. She blew out a breath. “Get going.” She lifted her chocolate-covered hand to indicate that she wasn’t able to touch a screen. “I’ll keep an eye on the door.” There was a small circular window that allowed them to watch the shop if they had to step back into the kitchen for something throughout the day. She’d have about three seconds’ notice before Grandma came in, but that would be enough to darken her phone.
Brooklyn went to work. With a few search words, she had a survivors list from the Vietnam War in front of her. “Bless the makers of Google,” she said. “I’m looking.” She typed Thomas’s name into the search bar and rolled her eyes as the page loaded. “Bingo!” She practically hopped over to Crystal to show her the phone. “I have a discharge date.”
“He lived?” Crystal’s eyes moved rapidly across the screen. “Where is he now?”
Brooklyn pulled the phone back to her nose and tapped on his name. It brought up a bio that went through his military career. “He was promoted and given honors for bravery … There’s a place to contact him, but it goes to his grandson, A.L.” She wrinkled her nose. “Maybe Thomas is in a rest home or something.”
“Or maybe it’s not the same guy. There could have been more than one Thomas Ward.”
“True.” Brooklyn continued to read. “The grandson’s in Seattle.” She copied the email address and started an email. “There’s only one way to find out if this is the guy. Dear A.L.” She typed out a quick inquiry, her hands shaking. “It’s hard to sound professional and distant and not like my heart is pounding a million beats a minute. Oh my gosh. I want this so bad for Grandma. Wouldn’t it be amazing if she met up with Thomas and they were still in love after all these years?”
Crystal laughed. “Slow down there, Miss Austin—you can’t write a happy ending before you know if you have a beginning.”
Brooklyn laughed. She hit send and sent up a little prayer for the email to get into the right hands. “Well, that’s that.” She looked from the screen to her cousin and back again. “Now what?”
Crystal made the signature SS on top of the chocolate she’d just set down. “We’ll sell the world’s best fudge to hungry tourists and hope he answers your email.”
Brooklyn nodded. Just as she stepped up to the saucepan where she’d been dumping ingredients, a light went on inside her head. “It’s three cups of sugar for the fudge and two for the caramel.” She did a fist pump. “I’ve still got it.”
Crystal laughed at her antics. “Yeah, you do!”
Brooklyn shimmied in front of the stove.
“How about showing off some of those moves up at Tappers tonight?”
There were several bars up on Top Road, most of them full of bikers on the weekends. Tappers was the local scene. She and Crystal didn’t drink on account of their no-good grandpa, but Crystal liked to dance with the fellas and flirt. Every now and again Brooklyn would go as her wingman, but really, in a town this size, there wasn’t a need for backup. Everybody knew everybody else, and they watched out for one another.
She cupped her ear. “Sorry, I’ve got a new novel calling my name.”
“You know, one of these days, you’re going to want a romance of your own.”
“And when that time comes, I’ll go looking for it. Until then, I’m happy to let others fall in love and be swept away.” She flourished her hand through the air. “Besides, no boyfriend beats a book boyfriend.”
Crystal snorted. “Yeah, but if you try to kiss him, you get a paper cut.”
Brooklyn puckered up. “Maybe, but he’ll never break my heart.”
Crystal clamped her mouth shut. The lack of teasing meant her thoughts had turned to Brooklyn’s dad. While Crystal had lost both her parents in the car wreck that ugly day, Brooklyn’s dad had walked out. She’d watched her mother crumble under the heartbreak.
As far as Brooklyn could remember, there wasn’t another woman involved. Dad just decided he didn’t want them anymore, Brooklyn included. Which stung and bit and gnashed and tore at all the tender parts of her heart at the time. Some wounds left behind hideous scars, and Brooklyn’s heart was covered in them. She was brave and strong in so many ways, but when it came to sharing her love, she reserved that for the people who had proven themselves: Grandma and Crystal.
Maybe one day she’d find a man who was loyal and true, but she doubted it. The town was full of romances gone wrong, evidence that love hurts.
“Look at me standing h
ere when there’s fudge to make.” She dumped in the sugar and stirred in the cream. “It’s time to turn up the heat.” She winked, faking a sassiness she didn’t feel at the moment, and set the temperature to medium.
Grandma stuck her head in the door. “It’s getting busy out here.” She was gone again in a flash.
Brooklyn brushed off her palms. “Do you have all this?” she asked Crystal, indicating the candy thermometer that had already started to rise.
“I’m almost done here.” Crystal nodded. The brownie timer still had eleven minutes, and the fudge wouldn’t get to temp for another twenty-two.
“Once you’ve washed up, come swap me, and I’ll finish this batch. I’m invested in it now.” She wrinkled her nose.
Crystal nodded without taking her eyes off her task. They might have chatted through the morning, but they knew when it was time to get down to business.
Brooklyn pushed through the swinging door to see a room full of women and men in period clothing; some of the men carried muskets, and the women’s dresses brushed the floor. The Civil War reenactment was happening one town over, but the promise of world-famous fudge brought them into Eureka Springs. Gray coats chatted with blue coats and generals with brigadiers, and everyone wanted to buy goodies. She smiled as she handed out samples. She was smart enough to know she had a good life. There was no sense muddying the waters with dating and romance—unless it was Grandma Julie’s.