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Matched With Her Cowboy Billionaire Ex-Fiance

Page 12

by Bonnie R. Paulson


  Reaching forward to shake Roman’s hand, Taylor smiled brightly. “Morning, Mr. Wilson.” She ignored the tingles his skin sent along her nerve endings. She turned to Olivia, determined to ignore the physical draw she had toward Roman. Right then wasn’t the time or the place to address the way he made her feel.

  Olivia raised her eyes enough to see Taylor’s extended hand and then she looked at Roman. “Why is she here?”

  She? Taylor jerked back and then leaned forward until she was in the way of Olivia’s gaze getting to Roman’s. “She’s here because it’s an expectation of the contest. I’m supposed to observe the two of you in the dating environment, watch how you interact with each other, as well as get information for my contestant as to what you like and don’t like. You could say I’m studying you.” If Taylor hadn’t dealt with the matchmaking process more times than Olivia had applied the cat-eyed makeup she wore, she would have walked out at the rudeness in Olivia’s tone.

  After the night she’d had and the fact that 99% of her security was wrapped up in the planner she’d set on fire the night before, Taylor just wanted to take a nap and cry and maybe eat – not necessarily in that order.

  Now… she had nowhere to write down her plans so she could avoid the draw that food had on her.

  One way or the other, she was going to survive leaving her planner behind. Even if that meant she had to take notes on a napkin as she suffered through watching Roman with another woman.

  Could she do it? She’d gone from not seeing him for years, decades even, to having to sit beside him while he dated a very beautiful, very rich bachelorette. Who very obviously wanted him.

  How in the devil’s britches was Taylor supposed to compete with that?

  Chapter 14

  Roman

  There was something distinctly different about Taylor as she grabbed a spare chair from a nearby table and swiveled it over to sit at the end of the table. She sank onto the seat and shifted her searching gaze from Olivia to Roman.

  Roman just stared at her. What was she doing? She was well over twenty minutes late and they’d already decided to just get started.

  Even though Olivia knew Taylor was coming, she acted as if she had no idea the other woman was coming. Olivia was obviously upset by the interruption, but Taylor didn’t seem to care as she flipped her unrestrained auburn locks behind her shoulder and leaned back in the chair to motion for the waitress.

  “Can I get a coffee and a Danish, please? I saw Tom’s here. He has the best Danish.” She widened her eyes as she looked back at Olivia and Roman. “Do you guys want one?”

  “We already ordered.” Olivia’s curt tone wasn’t necessary. Roman glanced sharply at her as if to rebuke her. She looked innocently at him as if she didn’t know what the problem was.

  “Oh, right.” Taylor looked back at the amused server. “Just for me, then. Oh, and maybe a plate of hash browns. Thanks.” She turned back to the couple, tapping her elegant oval-shaped fingernail on the surface of the table.

  “You look different, what happened? Did you cut your hair or something?” Roman didn’t remember the last time he’d seen her with her hair down. Usually she wore it braided or up in some kind of a fun style. The soft waves framed her face with wispy side swept bangs that curved gently around the shape of her cheek.

  She wore jeans. Jeans! Roman didn’t know she owned a pair, at least when they were growing up. She’d always worn skirts, dresses, and slacks. For some reason, she’d said jeans didn’t show the world she was serious about what she was doing.

  He’d always wondered what a seventeen-year-old could be serious about.

  Yet there she was, almost relaxed looking as she rested back against the chair back and folded her arms. “Okay, you two, what are you planning on doing for the next handful of dates? Would you like some suggestions?” She smiled at them, as if Roman had never shown up last night and thrown off her schedule, or upset her in any way.

  “That’s none of your business, Tyler.” Olivia leaned her elbow on the table and glared at her. She tapped her fingernail on the surface beside her elbow and then pointed from Roman to herself and back. “You’ll just tell the other guy what we’re doing so he’ll try to win. I don’t want him to win.”

  Roman blinked as he pulled back from the table to look more fully at Olivia. She’d never seemed spiteful or rude before. He opened his mouth to stick up for Taylor, but she beat him to it.

  Smiling and professional, despite the jeans and relaxed hairstyle, Taylor tilted her head to the side as she replied. “First off, my name is Taylor or Ms. Dean, Olivia. I get your name right; I’d appreciate the same courtesy. Second, I’m glad you’re so happy with this specific suitor. I agree, he’s a good match. However, the contest goes until December and you’re obligated to give both suitors an equal chance. If you don’t, you will be held liable for the entire cost of the contest on both sides as well as the cost to the town for hosting the event. Do you understand?”

  Olivia narrowed her eyes. “It’s just money, tell me how much and where to send the check.”

  Taylor laughed, shaking her head. Her confidence was mesmerizing and Roman couldn’t look away as she continued. “You’re right. The money probably wouldn’t bother you. But, just in case you’re not aware, the entire world watches the matchmaking in Mistletoe. It’s almost as big as the holiday shows on the romance channel. Everyone is hoping for their favorite suitor. Everyone is hoping happy things for the candidate. Most of the world knows both families. If you end this contest, before it’s even had a chance, you’ll get to deal with that bad PR around the world.” She stood, smiling tightly at Roman and Olivia. “I’m going to let you think about it. I’m not sure when our next scheduled event is, but I hope to see you there.” She moved from the table, leaving her chair in its spot at the end of the booth.

  Roman watched her as she stopped at the counter and spoke with the waitress, motioning toward Roman’s table. Then she walked from the café with her items in a to-go bag with a lid on the drink. Roman turned back to Olivia, shaking his head. “What just happened?”

  Olivia shrugged, the silky shine to her cashmere sweater moving under the café lights. “It got her to leave, didn’t it?” Olivia shook her head and fiddled with the silverware already in place on a paper napkin. “Now it’s just you and me.” She tossed him a look with a pout to her lips that was both practiced and out of turn. Completely unnecessary since Roman didn’t care. They weren’t together. He didn’t want to be with her.

  He just wanted to win the contest.

  Roman sighed and shook his head. Sliding from the table, he looked down at Olivia who watched him in surprise. “I asked you to come help me with this because I need the publicity for the company. I want to fit in here, Olivia. I don’t want to ostracize myself further by ending the contest early. You want to choose me, fine, but you need to go through the motions until the day we’re supposed to do the announcement. Do you understand? My family needs this match.” He studied her, watching as the realization of what she’d almost done sank in.

  “Roman, I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. I was just jealous because it seems like she’s everywhere. I thought we were going to get some time to ourselves. I didn’t know it was a requirement to the dating part of the contest.” She batted her long lashes at him and coyly smiled. “I was hoping it would just be us for some of it.”

  “It will be. But for now, I have to go make sure Taylor doesn’t really think you’re quitting and she’s not setting things up for a forfeit. I’ll have to catch you later.” He didn’t even care if he saw Olivia again that day at the very least. Or the next week or month, if he was really honest with himself.

  Stopping at the counter, he spoke with the same waitress Taylor had. “I’d like to pay for the meals at the table. Something came up and I need to run.” He pulled out his wallet and waited for a ticket.

  The waitress shook her head. “Ms. Dean took care of everything already. Thank you, though, Mr.
Wilson.” She patted the countertop and moved to talk to an older group of men who eyed Olivia with distrust and skepticism on their faces.

  For some reason, Roman couldn’t help thinking they might know something he was starting to understand.

  He strode from the café, worried he’d put more stock in his friendship with Olivia and the Jensens than he should have. Maybe she wasn’t interested in helping him so much as marrying him.

  Something Roman wasn’t interested in at all. He’d done marriage. It wasn’t for the faint of heart.

  Long steps carried him across the street as he looked for a sign as to where Taylor might have gone.

  He didn’t even know what she drove anymore. Once upon a time, she’d borrowed her daddy’s pickup when she wanted to go anywhere. That was just a scant year or two before her family had started raking in the money.

  Looking back, the Deans and Wilsons had both come into their fortunes around the same time, making more and more every year as they’d worked in tandem and in friendly competition with each other. Things had become less friendly, but no less paralleled over time.

  A bakery open sign blinked in a neon orange glow. Roman glanced that direction and then narrowed his eyes as he looked more fully at the dark hair in the window. Was that auburn and he just couldn’t see it very clearly because of the lighting inside clashing with the sunlight on the glass?

  The sun was out but the autumn winds had more of a bite than he was prepared for having lived in France for so long.

  He tucked his hands into his jeans pockets as he crossed the street, his stride relaxed. Looking both ways as he jaywalked, Roman tucked his head and used the brim of his hat to protect him from the wind and sun. Off in the distance, the mountain peaks of the Rockies were shadowy with white patches of snow already present. Autumn would give way to winter and in just over two months, they’d be expected to announce the match for the contest.

  Hopefully, he’d be able to hold steadfast for that length of time. If Olivia continued showing her true colors, Roman would be forced to end the contest early, himself.

  He didn’t want that either.

  Money aside, he was trying to prove he belonged with his family, that he belonged at home. Maybe not to anyone else, but he needed to convince himself. Across the street, he stepped up onto the curb and sidewalk and then pushed into the café doors.

  The café itself was new since he’d left. The quaint decorations were a bright cheery red, a crisp white and a subdued green. White was the overall base on the tiled tables, tiled floor, and tiled walls. The subway style of diagonal tiling gave the inside a fun feel without being disruptive to the environment.

  Two glass cases lit up at the back of the front room. They displayed a rich selection of pastries and pies highlighted with incandescent lighting that gave a warm orange glow to the cases and the surrounding area.

  Two other people were in a line to which Roman followed suit. He wasn’t even sure what he was doing there. Sure, he wanted to make sure Taylor was okay, but how was he going to do that without talking to her? What was he supposed to say to her when he was scheduled to be with Olivia until noon? It was most definitely not noon yet.

  After last night, Taylor would be even madder at him for messing with the schedule. Coming there had been a mistake. He continued shuffling forward with the rest of the line as he stared unseeingly at the array of treats. Was that German chocolate cake?

  Suddenly it was his turn and he didn’t have a choice but to order. At least that’s what he was going with. He had to order a piece of the German chocolate cake because it was his turn in line and he didn’t know what else to order. With milk.

  Taking his plate and cup as well as a napkin and plastic fork, he walked toward Taylor’s seat which was a small booth designed for only two people, one across from the other. Sinking into the seat across from her, Roman blinked in surprise at the tears on Taylor’s face.

  She looked up in surprise at his arrival and sniffed, wiping at her face and licking her lips. “What are you doing here?”

  “Hey, what’s going on? You’re not going to let someone like Olivia Jensen upset you, are you? She’s nothing compared to you.” Roman studied her, taking in the full lemon meringue pie sitting in front of her in a tin dish beside a fork and small stack of napkins. She even had an ice water gathering droplets of condensation on the plastic cup.

  She huffed, picking up her fork and staring at the pie. “Yeah, okay, Roman. Someone like Olivia Jensen has no problem finding people to be with. I really don’t want to talk about this. With you.”

  The added words stung and Roman took a deep breath, pushing his cake two inches from him as he leaned back in the seat and stared at her. “Yeah, I understand. You’re stuck in an awful life, surrounded by horrible people, and you have no control over any of it.”

  Taylor blinked at him, her full lips parting in surprise. “That was harsh, Roman. I don’t… where do you think you get off, talking to me like that?”

  Roman leaned forward, thrusting his finger into the center of the table for enunciation. “If you want something different, Taylor, you have to do something different. Get out of this town and go find whatever it is you’re looking for. Change something.”

  “Like you did? When you left?” Taylor’s challenge wasn’t subtle. Her soft voice didn’t lack any of the oomph of a slap across the face. “I used to be able to talk to you about anything. I thought you felt the same way. But then… I mean, we were always friends before we were anything else. Remember?” She blinked back tears that tore at Roman’s heart. He didn’t want her to cry.

  He didn’t want her to be unhappy. Yet it seemed like since he’d come home, that’s all she’d been doing.

  Roman had no basis for comparison, but if she was unhappy and it was directly related to him, maybe coming home hadn’t been the best decision he’d made. He sank back against the seat and stared at the pie sitting in front of her. Untouched.

  What if she was giving up because of him?

  Chapter 15

  Taylor

  “You don’t think we can be friends?” Roman tilted his head to the side, the angle casting a longer shadow from the brim of his hat. He reached up, as if sensing she couldn’t see his eyes clearly, and pulled his hat off and set it on the curve of his knee under the table.

  “How? How can we be friends again after everything between us? You left me, Roman. And let’s be honest, it’s not like you lost out.” She laughed, but the sound was offsetting, even to herself as hot tears streamed heavily down her cheeks.

  Taylor wiped at her wet skin, heat flushing upwards from her collar to her hairline. She blinked at the moisture still gathering behind her lids and pressed her lips together. “I’m sorry. This is so embarrassing.”

  Roman stared at her, his eyes intense and direct. “I think we should be able to be friends. That’s what we were before anything else passed between us.”

  Could she do that? Could she let go of everything else and just be friends? Just thinking it made it sound so much simpler than it actually was. “I think because we were such good friends, that’s why this all hurts so much.” Being honest was definitely easier with a whole lemon meringue pie in front of her. For some reason, she was strengthened by the presence of the food. Whereas she used to rely on her planner to bolster her courage, now she had nothing.

  Was she going to turn to food? She didn’t want to, but she couldn’t seem to help it. Even as she thought it, she stabbed the prongs of the fork into the smooth soft brown and white tips of the meringue topping of the pie. Right in the middle.

  Scooping out a huge bite, she closed her eyes as she wrapped her lips around it.

  She inhaled as she delighted in the sweet and tart flavors she’d missed for so long. What was she trying to do by leaving food behind? What was she thinking?

  “You make eating that pie look almost religious.” Roman’s husky voice pulled Taylor from her daze. She sniffed and focused on him, h
er eyes still scratchy and wet feeling. “I shouldn’t be eating stuff like this. The sugar… likes me a little too much.” Even her admission wasn’t enough to stop her from scooping another bite.

  She pointed at the large piece of cake sitting in front of Roman. “That looks good. Why aren’t you eating it?”

  “I’d rather watch you eat.” Roman’s eyes didn’t waver as he continued watching her, studying her like he was getting ready for a test all about her.

  Uncomfortable from the heat in his gaze, Taylor shifted on her seat and swallowed another bite. She sipped from her glass of water and then rested her hand on the table as if making a point. “You can’t say stuff like that to me, Roman. We aren’t together. We aren’t even sure we can be friends. Remember?”

  “You aren’t sure. I’m sure. I know we could be friends again. We could be really good friends again. I just… I need a second chance.” His eyes begged her for something she wasn’t sure she could give him.

  She stared at him; stuck in disbelief that he would even ask. After a moment, she dropped her gaze to the table. What did she say to that? No? I’m too hurt by what you did to me? What kind of a person did that make her? She really didn’t even want to talk about why it hurt so much.

  After a minute, she shook her head, setting her jaw. “No. We can’t be friends again.”

  Roman slumped back, his expression close to looking like he’d been backhanded. “Why?”

  Taylor straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin, gripping her fork as she took a shuddering breath. “I… You’re not the only one who left. You just paved the way. You want to come back and I’m telling you no because I can’t handle more pain like that again. If I let you back in, Roman, you’ll do exactly that. You’ll destroy me.”

  “Who else left you? Was there someone else?” He set his jaw and narrowed his eyes as he watched her.

 

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