A Cowboy Billionaire Country Star Fake Marriage (Brookside Ranch Brothers Book 3)

by Hanna Hart

  “Is that much different than being your fake fiancée?” she giggled.

  “Oh yeah,” he said with a grin. “What do you say?”

  “I say yes,” she gushed. “Yes!”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Phoenix

  The record was out, and the reviews were in—Terrible Beautiful Words was a smash hit. You couldn’t turn to a country station without hearing his single, “I’m Wide Awake” blaring through the speakers. Fans loved it, critics loved it, and most importantly, Miranda loved it, and that’s what mattered most to Phoenix.

  He’d been struggling with his feelings for her for weeks. She brought out a new side to his personality that he wanted to embrace. She made him feel good about himself, and beyond that, she was an amazing person. She was fun and beautiful and brilliant, and he couldn’t get enough.

  Phoenix was playing a show in Houston, and the whole time he was on stage, he couldn’t stop thinking about Miranda. It felt so good to play and be in front of his fans again, but it was nothing compared to the high he felt being around that girl.

  They’d spent the last two days in Texas before the show, coming early so that Miranda could meet his mother.

  When his mother had first heard about his engagement to Miranda, she called him with a fury in her voice he hadn’t heard since he was a teenager. She’d read about it in a music magazine and was incensed that he hadn’t told her himself.

  “Who is this girl?” she demanded to know. “What’s it been, a week of seeing her, and now you’re asking her to marry you? Oh no. I refuse to have my son be the laughing stock of the industry. You are not having a shotgun wedding.”

  “Shotgun wedding?” he chuckled. “Mom, that’s what they call it if the girl is pregnant. We’re not having a shotgun wedding—we’re not having a wedding at all.”

  He explained the situation to her, and to say she wasn’t impressed with his PR scam would be the understatement of the year.

  While she was relieved that he wasn’t really getting married, she was horrified that any self-respecting woman would agree to such terms. Then she lectured him about not letting Miranda use him and how she hoped he didn’t do “anything stupid” to try and improve his image.

  Shannon was a very particular woman, especially when it came to Phoenix. She was protective and loyal, especially after what happened with Rachel.

  Now that he and Miranda were the real deal, he wanted his mother to get used to the idea of having her in their lives.

  Shannon gave Miranda the third-degree when they first arrived at the Brooks family home. She asked why Miranda why she wanted to be at the Utah ranch, what she liked about Phoenix, and why she thought having a fake-engagement seemed like a good idea. It was the most awkward first meeting he had ever experienced. However, Shannon’s tune changed when she found out that Miranda was an orphan. Something about the information tugged at her mother’s intuition, and by the end of the visit, she was pulling Miranda into a big bear hug, exchanging phone numbers, and insisting that she not be a stranger.

  The next day, Shannon had raved about Miranda on the phone, saying what a sweet, country girl he’d ended up with.

  Having his mother’s stamp of approval, however hesitant it was, was important to Phoenix. He wanted Miranda to be a real part of his life, and introducing her to his parents was the first step.

  Phoenix was currently in the final chorus of his last song on the Texas stage. As much as he relished singing his new songs and watching the fans mouthing along to the words, he was equally as excited to get backstage and scoop her up in his arms.

  “Thank you all for a great show tonight; you’ve been amazing!” he called into the microphone when his set was over.

  The audience let out a roaring cheer as he stepped off-stage. Miranda was waiting for him in the wings, clapping and giving him the biggest, cutest grin he’d ever seen.

  “You are so...” she began but trailed off as she leaned in and kissed him.

  “Handsome?” he said with a wink. “Talented?”

  “Both,” she smiled.

  Miranda wasn’t the only one who thought so. She wasn’t the only one who had sneaked backstage, either. In an instant, Phoenix was surrounded by a barrage of teenage girls who were all raving about the show and begging for autographs.

  “Phoenix, you were amazing!” a brunette girl gushed, extending a vinyl version of his album toward him to sign. “I have been listening to you since I was thirteen years old!”

  Phoenix gave a breathy chuckle, signing the album as he asked, “Wow. How old are you now?”

  “Eighteen,” the girl said suggestively.

  “You’re a fan for life,” he said, handing the record back to her. “Thanks for the support, I really appreciate it!”

  “Where are you staying tonight?” another girl asked.

  “Yeah,” the brunette chimed in. “And where are the good clubs in town? Anywhere near your hotel?”

  “If I send you a DM, will you hit me up?” another girl asked, holding her cellphone up and recording the entire interaction.

  “Sorry, guys. I’m out with my girl tonight,” he said and put an arm around Miranda’s shoulders. “But thanks so much for the support. I had a lot of fun tonight. Wouldn’t have been the same without you!”

  Phoenix only got the opportunity to sign a couple of autographs before his security team came and escorted the trespassing fans out from backstage.

  “Do you think that’s the girl from New York?” one of the fans asked in a sarcastic scoff as she was taken out of the restricted area.

  The girls were gone before Phoenix could hear what their response was, but the damage was done. Miranda stiffened with irritation and remained mostly silent until they got into the car later that night.

  Once they were in the car, they talked about the show most of the way back to their hotel suite. He was glad to hear she enjoyed herself, but as they reached the hotel valet, she commented, “You have a lot of girls at your shows.”

  “Girls like country music,” he said with a shrug.

  “So do guys,” she said. She tried to keep her tone light and playful, but he could already feel where the conversation was headed.

  “Yeah, but the girls are more aggressive about getting backstage,” he said.

  “And they’re so young,” she said in a high pitch. “You must get a lot of offers.”

  He narrowed his brows and gave her a careful look as he asked, “What’s going on?”

  “Nothing,” she said, still trying to let her jealousy roll off of her shoulders. “I’m just calling it as I see it.”

  “You’re not jealous, are you?

  “No,” she lied. “I guess I just wasn’t expecting it. I don’t want anyone to think I’m your idiot girlfriend, you know? Just sort of standing there all doe-eyed and stupid while you go and flirt with girls.”

  “I don’t flirt with girls. I’m not rude to them. There’s a difference,” he said. “Besides, I’m there with you.”

  “I know, it’s just a new thing we’re trying out here and I don’t want anything to screw it up,” she said simply.

  He thought, hoped, and prayed the conversation would end there, but at they made it into their spacious hotel room, he could tell Miranda wasn’t ready to let it go. She followed him around the neon-colored room like a nervous puppy and said, “Full disclosure? When I was thirteen years old, I stole makeup from the drug store. My foster parents wouldn’t get me makeup. They said I was too young to be wearing that stuff.”

  “Okay,” he said slowly.

  “Right, and this other time, when I was sixteen, I dated two guys at the same time and lied about it. We were all in the same group home, and they both found out, and they had this big fight, and they both dumped me. I felt like the biggest jerk ever and vowed never to take advantage of anybody like that ever again. And I haven’t.”

  “What about your thieving ways?” he teased. “Have you given up your life of crime, as we
ll?”

  Miranda wore a proud smile. “Clean and sober for thirteen years now.”

  “Good for you,” he laughed. “I’m proud of you.”

  Phoenix dropped his jacket on the couch and walked across the common area into the master bedroom of the hotel. It was a white room with a neon yellow accent wall behind the king-sized bed. Not exactly his idea of tranquil colors, but it was certainly unique.

  Miranda followed right behind him. “So?” she said.

  She seemed like she wanted something from him, but he couldn’t decipher what. “So?” he repeated with a smile.

  “So, I told you my secrets. Now’s the part where you tell me yours.”

  He bit his bottom lip. “Sounds ominous.”

  “Look,” she said with a sigh. “I’m not someone who gushes over celebrities. I don’t look them up online to see what they wear or who they are dating. I don’t even stalk my ex-boyfriend’s social media. I let people live how they want. I base my opinions on them over how they treat me.”

  “And I’ve treated you very well, haven’t I?” he asked.

  Miranda nodded. “Yes, you have.”

  “But?”

  “But,” she began nervously. “It’s hard to know what to say when reporters are asking me if I’m nervous about your past or if we were fooling around while you were with Rachel or like those girls tonight, asking if I’m the girl from New York.”

  He swallowed hard. “I’m sorry people have been saying things like that to you. It comes with the territory, I guess, but I’m sorry you have to deal with rude people.”

  “Right...” she hesitated. “But, I guess my question is, who is the girl from New York?”

  Phoenix’s stomach dropped. Despite rumors about an affair being spread all over the tabloids last year, there had been very few people he had told about the girl in New York. It was mainly Adam, and that was it. He didn’t even tell his mother the real story about what happened.

  “Does it matter?” he asked with mild irritation. “She’s nobody now.”

  Miranda’s eyes went wide with curiosity, as though she had just realized the girl from New York was not a mere myth or figment of the media’s imagination.

  “Um,” she said, drawing the word out, “yeah, I think it kind of matters.”

  Phoenix sat on the side of the bed with his feet planted firmly on the carpet. He steepled his hands together and leaned forward, deciding whether or not he should tell Miranda the story. The whole event summarized not only the worst moment of his life, but his worst behavior, as well. He didn’t want Miranda to know that side of him, but he didn’t want to keep anything from her, either. He wanted things to be different in this relationship.

  “Okay,” he said quietly. “But what you need to know before I tell this story is that what I and Rachel had was very passionate.”

  “So I’ve learned from your songs,” she said tersely.

  “I don’t just mean...” he began, but then thought better of his words. “We loved hard, and we fought just as hard. There was never a middle ground with Rach. We were never just happy.”

  “Sounds healthy,” she said.

  “Then she got pregnant, and everything changed. We were this unit, and everything about us made sense. She was four months along. The doctor gave us the go-ahead that she was safe, everything looked good. Then she lost the baby. I was doing a couple shows in New York, and as soon as she told me, I was...”

  Phoenix had to stop. His whole body erupted with goosebumps as he remembered that night. He could perfectly recall the stale, dry air in the back of the venue he was playing that night. He remembered walking into the bathroom and locking the door behind him to get some privacy on his phone. He remembered the strange timber in Rachel’s voice. He’d never heard her sound like that before.

  “Shattered,” he finished. “I sent her a ticket, told her to come and be with me in the city.”

  “Why didn’t you just cancel the show?” Miranda asked.

  “That’s what I should have done. I think I thought it would be good for me to do the shows and keep up my routine—keep my mind busy. As long as I was still doing the shows, then nothing was real. Nobody knew we lost the baby, so I could keep pretending it wasn’t real.” He shook his head. “The truth was, I was in shock, you know? I wasn’t thinking clearly. I should have just gone home.”

  “I can’t imagine,” she sympathized. “So, you invited her to New York. Then what happened?”

  “I didn’t want her to be alone. I wanted her to be with me. She didn’t come,” he recalled, “She said she wanted to stay home and she’d see me in a couple of days.”

  Phoenix remembered walking into their house in Utah when he got back from the city and Rachel was curled up on the couch. She was wearing black pants and one of Hunter’s band tees. The fact that she kept his brother’s clothes in her dresser and wore them regularly always irritated him, but he knew they were close and that living eight hours away from him must have been painful for her, so he never said a word about the clothes, the texts, or their overwhelming connection.

  It was the first time he’d seen Rachel since she lost the baby and he was overcome with a flood of grief. He’d held himself together on the road. He compartmentalized his pain so he could get his job done, but the minute he looked at her, he fell apart. He remembered pulling her into his arms and crying into her chest. He thought about laying in her lap and the way it felt when she stroked his hair.

  He never needed her more than he had ever needed her before in those days. He didn’t talk about the miscarriage after that first night. The loss was too great. He wanted to make things better for her, not pull her down into his misery.

  Phoenix mourned deeply, feeling the weight of her empty belly electrify every avenue of his life. He couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat, couldn’t write.

  His only solace was that he felt more connected to her than ever once he came home.

  He felt like they had spent half of their relationship fighting. But once she got pregnant, everything changed. They became a family, and he didn’t want to lose that.

  “We’ll try again,” he told Rachel, but she looked at him with such malice, it was as though he’d somehow caused the miscarriage himself.

  “It’s not a band-aid,” she snapped.

  He didn’t know what to say to her. He felt a wave of confusion wash over his features, and there was a tingle in the tips of his fingers, a warning sign of the devastation to come.

  “Did you want this?” she asked him.

  He relayed the homecoming to Miranda. She had pulled a chair up across from the edge of the bed. She was leaning forward, hanging on his every word. “What did you say?” she asked.

  “I said I did, and that I wanted to be a family with her. I said I wanted to have a baby and settle down, and she went off.”

  She said they weren’t partners, that he didn’t care about her, and that he would never settle down. Rachel made it perfectly clear that she believed all he cared about was his music.

  And he did care about his music. His music and Rachel were his whole world, and that used to be the thing she loved about him.

  “Then she told me that she did go to New York and I guess when she got to our place, there was...” he trailed off.

  “A girl there?” Miranda finished, and he nodded.

  “A naked girl in the house,” he said with a sigh. “Specifically, in our bed.”

  Miranda looked horrified. Her expression went grim as she said, “You didn’t...?”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  The blonde swallowed hair, and her brows drew together in a deep frown. “Phoenix,” she began in a lecture, but he put his hand up.

  “Rachel misconstrued everything and then she told me—”

  “Wait,” Miranda interrupted. “How can she misconstrue that? Who was this girl? Why was she naked in your house?”

  Phoenix clenched his teeth together nervously. He looked down at his feet as he relu
ctantly explained, “The night she told me about...what happened. Well, after the show that night, this girl comes up to me, and she’s making her intentions very clear, and I guess I was feeling sorry for myself. I was mad at Rach for not coming to the city, mad about the miscarriage, mad at myself for not knowing what to do or say to her, so yeah. I’ll admit it. I gave her the address; told her I’d meet her there later.”

  Sadness clouded Miranda’s features. She was overcome by disappointment—he could see it. But his story wasn’t over.

  “I didn’t go,” he insisted. “The minute I gave her my address, I knew I wasn’t going to go; I didn’t even give her a key or anything. I wanted to avoid the whole thing altogether and got a room at the St. Regis. I have receipts, pictures, and I was with Adam the whole night; he can back everything up. It wasn’t until the next day I found out that girl broke into my house and waited for me.”

  “You have no reason to lie to me about this, Phoenix. If you were with this girl, then—”

  “I wasn’t, I promise you,” he said firmly. It was the truth. “It was a stupid, selfish decision, and I was an idiot for slipping, but I didn’t go through with it. I will spend the rest of my life regretting that decision.”

  “And what about the texts?” Miranda said.

  Her statement took him by surprise. She insisted that she’d never looked him up online, but she knew a lot of insider gossip for someone who was supposedly not interested in his past. Or maybe it was Birdie who had brought the texts to her attention.

  “Texts are texts,” he said with a sad laugh. “People leak my number online, I get texts from girls, I get a new number and someone else’s phone gets hacked, all of their numbers get leaked, it happens again.”

  Miranda cocked her head to the sign. “Naked pictures, though?”

  He shrugged. “Yeah. I’ve gotten naked pictures, offers, and addresses and times to meet up with people to hook up. But it didn’t mean anything to me. You just delete them.”