Matched With Her Cowboy Billionaire Ex-Fiance

by Bonnie R. Paulson

  Why would Brock page him?

  Roman pulled his phone out and swiped the screen as he replied. “I’m actually heading to Mistletoe, business and…” His voice trailed off as he read an overwhelming number of text messages in a group thread from his brothers.

  The woman, he already couldn’t remember her name, placed her hand on his arm. “Do you know where you’re staying?” Her voice was drenched in invitation.

  Trying to focus, Roman brushed her off, turning away as he pressed the call button on the call icon beside Brock’s name on the contact screen. The phone rang and Roman stepped away from the line, moving to stand in the protection of the wall from the wind.

  “It’s about time. I thought you died on the plane back from France. When can you be here?” Brock sounded so much like their father when he’d been alive. He was bossy and in control. Roman’s rightful place, if he hadn’t left.

  Roman blinked, awash in the memories he’d tried abandoning in the small town when he’d run away. What was he doing going back?

  “Roman? You there? If this is a butt dial, I’m not going to be amused.” Brock raised his voice, snapping Roman out of his daze.

  “Yeah, I’m here. Sorry, I just landed. Not great reception. It’s raining with thick cloud cover. I got the group texts. I’m not reading many. Can you just summarize it for me?” Roman reached up, pinching the bridge of his nose as he tried not to let his upcoming arrival make him nauseous.

  “Yeah, so, Mom had a heart attack early yesterday morning. We didn’t want to bug you. We were going to fill you in when you got here, but there were some touch-and-go moments during surgery and the doctor recommended we contact you as soon as possible. By the time we tried, you were already on the plane.” Brock’s voice trailed off and silence filled the airwaves between them.

  A heart attack? Surgery that was touch-and-go? Roman wasn’t sure he could process that kind of information while he stood there in the wind of the plains.

  After a handful of awkward silent moments, Brock cleared his throat. “Look, Roman, we really didn’t mean to leave you out for any other reason then we didn’t want you to worry about it. There’s nothing you could do about it from across the ocean, you know?”

  Roman nodded at no one in particular, gritting his teeth together while shuffling his feet so he could lean against the wall. “Yeah, I understand. It’s not a big deal. I’ll get a car and leave immediately. I should roll in this afternoon. Do you need me to do anything before I come to the house?”

  He sighed, the cloud puffing from his lips, fog-like in the late September chill.

  “Yeah, actually, she’s supposed to be released this afternoon from the hospital. I heard she has a male roommate or something? I’m not sure what’s going on over there, but you know Mom. She probably arranged for that to happen. The man is a cat, though. I know he wouldn’t do it on purpose.” Brock didn’t sound irritated or amused, more like he had other things to worry about than his mother rooming with someone of the opposite sex that she wasn’t married to.

  Brock might not care, but Roman’s irritation ratcheted up. “Who is it?” Roman pushed off the wall and walked down the sidewalk, studying the signs plastered to the double-pane airport windows. When he reached the car rentals, he turned into the automatic opening doors.

  “Well, it’s not a big deal.” Brock’s tone suggested it actually was a big deal, but he was trying to minimize it for Roman. “The thing is…”

  “Just spill it, Brock. I don’t have time for this.” Roman motioned to the guy working the desk that he wanted a truck to rent. He pointed at a Dodge Ram picture on the wall and pulled out his card. If he was going back home, he was going back in a rig.

  The guy shook his head, holding out his hands and saying softly, “We’re out of trucks, sir.”

  Roman arched an eyebrow and turned away. No, he wanted a truck and he didn’t want to wait for the next available rig.

  “Well, the thing is, her roommate is Mr. Dean. Everything is fine.” Brock coughed in the back of his throat like he wasn’t sure if he was saying what he should be.

  Fury rose in Roman. His mom was in a serious health situation, he couldn’t get a vehicle, and now he found out the father of his ex was staying in the same room as his mother?

  “There’s nothing fine about this. I’m sure he’s taking advantage of her vulnerability. I’ll be there as soon as I can. Yes, I’ll stop and check in on Mom. I’ll get things straightened out. I have no idea what is going on in that small town, but it sounds like you need me more than I need this break.” Roman hung up without waiting for another comment from his brother. He was so frustrated; he didn’t bother stopping outside to wait for a ride.

  He strode down the sidewalk toward the road that would take him to the business section of town. He wouldn’t have to walk far.

  He pulled out his phone, wishing desperately for the wide bill of a cowboy hat. He’d been in Europe too long. He’d forgotten the benefits of certain gear you grew to depend on in the mountains of Montana.

  A wide-billed Stetson was one of them. As he stepped into a puddle, he remembered the importance of boots, too.

  He pressed an icon on his phone and waited until Seth answered. “Seth, I need my luggage picked up from the airport and delivered to my mother’s place in Mistletoe.”

  His assistant had been with him for years, even before the short relationship with Sylvia that Roman couldn’t call a marriage on any level except a legal one. They even lived in different countries. She’d opted for the non-polarizing political climate of Switzerland while Roman had set up Wilson Matchmaking International in Paris, France. Anyone could fall in love in that country.

  Hadn’t Roman proved that anything was possible since he’d taken a small-town operation in the States and pulled it into an international game that everyone wanted a piece of but no one was good enough at?

  Except the Wilsons… and the Deans.

  “You got it. Anything else?” Seth was perfunctory and efficient. Roman relied on him for more than errands.

  “Yes, call the Dodge dealer in Butte, Montana, that’s B-U-T-T-E and get the process started to wire some money in. I want to drive out of there in a new truck within the next thirty minutes. My mom had a heart attack and I need to get home sooner than possible.” Roman’s stride lengthened as he approached the gentle slope headed toward the commercial side of town.

  “Got it. I’m sorry, sir. I hope everything is okay.” He hung up, leaving Roman to slide his phone into an inner pocket of his jacket.

  He would reach the dealership in less than fifteen minutes as he could see the Dodge icon rising above the rest of the main street ahead of him. Even the rain wasn’t enough to cool his temper. He was angry and he had no safe outlet at the moment. What he needed was a rig with a decent stereo system.

  Roman let his anger and embarrassment at having to deal with the Deans again push his steps harder and faster. He pushed through the doors to the dealership, slicking water from his shoulders as he did so.

  A Christmas tree stood in the center of the showroom floor, covered in white LED lights, brown, black, and white full-sized Stetson hats, horseshoes, and white painted barbed wire.

  Roman growled under his breath, waving his hand toward the tree as a salesman approached from the front. “You guys need to start this in September?”

  The salesman laughed, shaking his head. “It wasn’t my idea, sir. The owner’s wife is a fan of Christmas. We have the trees up for six months out of the year. You think that’s bad? At least we’re not in the town just north of here. It’s called Mistletoe. Those poor people can never escape the holiday spirit.” He folded his hands and tilted his head toward Roman. “What can I do for you?”

  “I’m here to pick up a truck. My assistant should have phoned ahead with all of the necessary information.” Roman ignored the comment about his hometown. Wasn’t it exactly how he felt anyway? One day of Christmas was too much. Shove it down a guy’s throat y
ear after year and one day a year was too much to bear. “I’m looking for four-wheel-drive, heated seats, full size bed, extended cab, and…” He looked over his shoulder at the tree and looked back at the salesman whose nametag read Jimmy. “Jimmy, I want a couple of your Stetson’s thrown in.”

  The salesman grinned, folding his hands in front of him. “Got it. You pick them out while I have your immediate options pulled to the front, Mr. Wilson.”

  As Roman moved toward the tree, he unbuttoned the top button of his white business shirt. He wasn’t ready to move into a tweed jacket, but he could feel the need for denim on his legs instead of the thin expensive suit pants he wore.

  Seventeen minutes after walking through the door, Roman pulled onto the freeway headed north in a brand new Ram truck, heated seats and all. He adjusted the dark brown hat on his head and grinned as the engine roared with the slightest touch to the gas pedal.

  All the money in the world couldn’t get him to go back to Mistletoe where Taylor Dean still lived. He had to face everyone he’d let down when he’d ridden out of Mistletoe so many years ago. Roman and Taylor been the plan, the hope, the future of the town and the matchmaking business that made the town infamous.

  Roman had resisted all demands that he return home. He even missed his own father’s funeral. He couldn’t do anything to save his dad and he didn’t want to face the things he’d done at the time.

  But now… with a divorce finalized and all of his clients closed, Roman really just needed some downtime. His soul missed the mountains, the forests, the open plains and valleys. He craved the smell of fresh water, clean grasses, cedar wood, and the smell of horses in hay.

  He missed the easy-going feel of a town full of people familiar with the demands of knowing everyone and their business.

  He would have to face the Deans. He could do that. He hadn’t asked about Taylor in all the time he’d been away. She was a beautiful woman. She would have gotten remarried and moved on from Mistletoe. Especially in the matchmaking family she’d been born into. There was no way she wasn’t going to find someone to replace the role he’d had.

  None of that mattered. He needed to recover and rethink his life. He could be around people he hadn’t seen in years. Everyone would have to get over what had happened almost two decades ago. Get over it or not.

  One way or the other, he was going back.

  He was back in Montana but on his terms. He couldn’t ask for anything more.

  Chapter 4

  Taylor

  Damp palms didn’t help Taylor’s nerves. She licked her lips as she glanced between her dad and Mrs. – no, Elizabeth. Not that that was more comfortable. In fact, that might have made things worse.

  “You’ll do it? You mean you’ll seriously do it?” Taylor leaned forward, bracing her arms on Dad’s bed and flicking her anxious gaze between Elizabeth and her father. She lifted her hand, palm out like she was motioning for everyone to stop, and shook her head. She widened her eyes. “I’m serious about this. I want to be engaged by Christmas, if not married. I’m sick of being…” She glanced embarrassed at Elizabeth and then focused on Dad as she confessed. “Lonely. I’m tired of being alone. I want a family. My job is fulfilling, but after matching over two-hundred couples, I feel like I’m either missing out on something or I’m a hypocrite for promising happiness through romance while not having any myself. I just…” She blinked back tears as her vulnerability crushed in around her.

  Her father reached out, placing his hand over her clenched fingers. “I’m so sorry you’ve felt this way. I thought your job was fulfilling you enough and that’s why you haven’t been with anyone.” He shook his head. “I had no idea.”

  “I know, Dad. No one knows. Well, I talked to Lily about it, but she refused to help me. She said she’d probably start looking for guys herself.” She laughed, but it wasn’t full of humor so much as ironic sadness that the six daughters of a matchmaker were all single.

  Dad glanced at Elizabeth, pressing his lips together as he considered her. Then he turned back to Taylor. “I’d like to get started right away. We can work on it. Since we’re sharing the room for a couple hours, I don’t see any reason we should wait. If nothing else, a pairing is exactly what I could use to get my mind off my recovery. What do you think, Elizabeth?”

  “I agree.” Elizabeth nodded curtly. “I only wish my own boys would let me match them. I could have so much fun.” Her eyes twinkled and she tilted her head to the side. “I know this had to be hard for you, Taylor. Thank you for including me. I haven’t had a chance to speak to you, since…” She waved her hand as if pushing the past away from them. “Regardless, I always cared about you and I still do. My son’s actions don’t dictate how I feel about others. I would love to see you happily married and settled.”

  “I think we can move beyond the past. I’m so excited to get started.” Her father clapped his hands as if they couldn’t begin soon enough.

  Taylor nodded, grateful the hard part was over. Before her relationship with Roman had fallen apart, Taylor had been on good terms with all of the Wilson clan. When he’d disappeared, things had shifted, changing right before her eyes, leaving her more than just single and embarrassed. She’d been more than just alone. She’d been abandoned by an entire family. At least, that’s how it felt.

  She shifted her high heels on the hard linoleum, silently wishing she’d worn the cowboy boots she’d left in the truck. How much longer did she have to wait before she could slip out and attempt to get back on schedule? Taylor reached out to her dad’s side table and adjusted the vase so the bottom lines were even to both edges of the table. That looked bedroom.

  A loud knock on the door as it opened caught them all by surprise.

  Taylor turned, facing the doorway from the bedside. Her previously damp palms dried and she clenched her fingertips tight into the flesh of her hands and inhaled sharply.

  All of her nightmares slammed in front of her.

  Roman was there.

  “What can’t you wait to get started?” With a dark brown Stetson riding his crown, Roman Wilson filled the doorway with broad shoulders that had filled out with adulthood. Where a lot of men his age were thicker in the waist, Roman was trim with his torso covered in a white business shirt and charcoal suit jacket over a matching pair of pants. His chest tapered to a V and his long muscular legs were well-defined by the half-shiny gray material.

  Roman’s eyes didn’t bother scanning the room much after his gaze found his mother. He reached up as he pushed the door shut behind him and removed his hat, revealing thick, light brown hair trimmed in a professional cut. “Mom, I… Are you okay? Brock told me you were here.”

  “Roman? Oh, my mountains. What are you doing here?” Elizabeth held up her right arm. Roman strode to the bed, reaching down to wrap his mother in his embrace.

  Unintelligible words passed between them and Taylor glanced uncomfortably at her father. She didn’t want to pull Roman’s attention toward her or interrupt the reunion between mother and son. She also didn’t want to wait until he realized she was there and she became even more uncomfortable. She’d gotten what she came there for, checked on her dad, and now she could go back to work.

  Taylor was late enough as it was.

  As if her watch was tuned into her thoughts, the alarm beeped, and beeped, and then beeped again. Taylor’s eyes widened and she pulled her hand from Dad’s to slap her fingers over the offending timepiece.

  Roman stiffened, straightening from his hug with his mom and turning carefully to face Taylor and her father. His face paled and then flushed. He cleared his throat as he looked toward Taylor’s father. “I hardly think it’s appropriate that you’re in my mother’s room. I’m not sure what game you’re trying to play, but you can leave my mom out of it.”

  Elizabeth gasped, glancing apologetically at her roommate. “Roman, that’s enough. You’re out of line. Mr. Dean was kind enough to offer me a place to wait to be released because the hospital i
s out of rooms. It’s not a big deal.” Elizabeth shook her head and patted her oldest son’s arm. “I’m encroaching on him, not the other way around. He actually offered me the window spot and they moved us around. He’s very thoughtful.” She smiled softly at Taylor’s dad.

  Roman still hadn’t looked fully at Taylor, but the red in his cheeks and the set to his still-strong jaw suggested he was more than aware of her. Or he wasn’t at all and he was mad at her father. Either way, he had to be aware he was in the wrong.

  The silence stretched between the two groups and Taylor bit the inside of her cheek. It wasn’t fair that Roman was as good looking as ever, if not more so. It wasn’t fair he could ignore her in the same room, just feet away. And it was even less fair that he hadn’t noticed her at all while she couldn’t help but be aware of everything about him as if he hadn’t walked out on her all those years ago and never come back.

  As if she hadn’t been broken and then slowly put back together without him. All of her heart and soul had been changed that day and he didn’t even have the grace to act like he cared or noticed that he hadn’t shown up for their wedding day.

  Her still-present attraction to him combined with her need for self-preservation had her hackles raised, setting her on edge.

  She took a deep breath and motioned toward her father as she stared at Roman, waiting for him to look at her. “Whenever you’re finished attacking my father, we’ll accept an apology.” She folded her arms across her chest and waited, tapping her toe while staring at him. She’d take the excuse to study his good looks. There was a new scar above his left eyebrow and stubble shadowed his jaw.

  His intense blue eyes shifted from her father to Taylor and she hid the impact his gaze had on her insides. He arched an eyebrow and then shot a pointed glance at her still-covered wrist. “Interesting time still controls your life.” His Montana drawl hadn’t changed with all his time spent in Europe. Why couldn’t he have lost at least that much of himself?