Her Fake Christmas Eve Billionaire Boyfriend

by Chelsea Hale

  If Sam wasn’t already suspicious that her late arrival meant she was avoiding the set up, he might wrongly assume she purposefully spilled on herself to make a bad first impression. There was only one thing to do. She’d head back up the stairs and buy a new shirt.

  “Thanks for breaking my fall.” Her voice came out breathy. The air really was thinner.

  “Anytime.”

  She arched an eyebrow. “Anytime? Really?! I don’t think I’ll plan that move again.”

  It was his turn to laugh. A deep, rich laugh that made her want to join in.

  Instead, she crossed to the other side of the stairs. “Thanks again.”

  “Wait. Where’re you going?” he asked. He picked up his ruined paper tray of nachos and followed her back up the stairs.

  Her pulse quickened. He was good-looking and had a beautiful voice. But she was about to be set up with someone. Not that she was looking forward to that. On second thought, maybe this was an okay situation after all. A little flirting with a stranger may be the exact thing to turn Sam’s friend off. She’d find her own dates.

  She paused on the stairs, then turned to face him. “I’m going to buy a shirt. I just got here and should look presentable coming to the game. It’s kind of important.”

  “So important that you came halfway through?” His eyes sparkled.

  She smiled. “Can you keep a secret?” She ran up the stairs, hoping he would follow. Once at the top, she headed toward the nearest apparel store.

  “You tell secrets to people you don’t know?” He stood next to her.

  Liz held out her hand, her mouth going dry. “I’m Liz. Nice to meet you.”

  He shook her hand firmly. “Tyler.”

  “Now that we know each other, I can tell you my brother is setting me up today. I’m not really in the mood for that, so I didn’t want to be on time.” She grabbed two fitted CU shirts from the rack. “Which do you like better? The light or the dark?”

  “The dark.”

  “Me too.” She put the light one back, and grabbed a matching men’s in large, and headed to the register.

  “So, you decided to blow him off?” His eyes widened.

  The cashier rung Liz up. “Of course not. I can’t show up late to the game for no reason.” They walked out of the store, and she handed Tyler the men’s shirt.

  He thanked her for it, then nodded. “What’s your excuse?”

  She pulled the tags off her shirt. “My roommate hid my car keys really well this time, and it took me longer to find them than I anticipated.”

  “Why would she hide your keys?”

  Liz grinned. “I asked her to. If I can’t find them, it’s a perfectly legitimate reason to be late to a game. Only it took longer than I planned to locate them.”

  Tyler raised his eyebrows.

  She held up the merchandise bag. “That’s why I had to come buy a shirt. If I show up drenched, my brother is bound to know I’m trying to make a bad impression when I meet his friend. He’ll assume I’ve spent the first half of the game avoiding him.”

  “Which you did.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Yes, but he doesn’t need to know that.”

  “And you’re telling me because?”

  She shrugged. “I spilled my root beer on both of us and needed a new shirt.”

  He stopped in front of the concession stand. “I’m going to get some food. Mine was soaked by a beautiful redhead,” he said. He ordered nachos and a large root beer.

  She pushed her card toward the cashier before Tyler retrieved his. “Let me. I owe you.”

  “Thanks.” He held out the tray covered with chips, cheese and jalapenos toward her. “Want some? You bought them.”

  She gingerly lifted a nacho with three jalapenos on it, and popped it in her mouth. She swallowed it without batting an eye at the heat. “You don’t prefer your nachos drenched in root beer? It’s all the rage in some parts of the country.” Her lips twitched. She couldn’t help teasing him. He intrigued her.

  “Which parts exactly?”

  “Oh, you know, everywhere but here. But we’re catching on to the trend.” She gestured between them. “Someday we might be thanked for capturing the vision of the drink spilling movement.”

  He leaned toward her and whispered conspiratorially, “Until the drink spilling movement becomes a trend, you can have this all to yourself. Deal?” He handed her the root beer, brushing her fingers with his. “It was nice meeting you, Liz. I better get back to the game.”

  She raised her eyebrows at him and nodded. He probably had a girlfriend. It didn’t matter. After this encounter, she would tell Sam that she was perfectly capable of finding her own dates, if she wanted. “And I better go change. Thanks for the root beer.”

  “Thank you for the amusement.”

  Liz changed her shirt, and surveyed the status of her hair—root beer had matted down the top in a sticky mess. She blotted her curls with wet paper towels but not much could be done to salvage them. The hand dryer would only make it frizzy. She pulled her thick, red hair into an unflattering ponytail.

  She was on auto-pilot as she made her way to her season-ticketed seat. Her thoughts wandered repeatedly to Tyler, and to how she would let Sam and his friend down easy.

  “Where have you been?” Sam didn’t remove his eyes from the game. “Grip is tearing it up out there. The game is practically over and you never miss a game.”

  Liz sat down in her seat. She was surprised that Sam, and not her blind date, sat in the chair directly next to hers. On Sam’s other side, her blind date sat between her parents. He was turned away from Liz, talking to her mom, on the far side of the group. The thought that her blind date chatted it up between her dad and mom made her blood pressure rise. Why wasn’t he sitting next to Sam?

  She couldn’t imagine the stories her mom might have shared while she hadn’t been here. Had she known she wouldn’t have been late. She was overanalyzing—Sam wasn’t the best judge of her taste in guys. Besides, she’d worked up the exact thing to say, and thanks to Tyler, she didn’t even have to make the story up.

  “Sorry I’m late. I couldn’t find my keys. And I had to park six blocks away. Then I ran into a guy and we hit it off. It wasn’t too long, but we shared some food and talked. I know you want to introduce me to your friend but I met someone. I’m sorry to trouble you.”

  Sam burst out laughing. “He must be amazing if you don’t want an introduction.” His voice was louder than it needed to be.

  Liz touched his arm, lowering her voice. “Sam, I’m thankful you look out for me. It’s sweet of you. But I really can find my own dates.”

  Sam surveyed her pulled back damp ringlets. “So, this guy you ran into, you’re going to date him?”

  She shrugged, watching a lineman intercept the ball before she answered. “Maybe.”

  He smirked. “Did you give him your number?”

  “No.” The flaw in her logic came forward.

  “So, the next time you run into him, you’ll give him your number, then?”

  She dropped her voice to a whisper. “Yes, I will. But fine. I’ll meet your friend.”

  Sam laughed. Hard.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “I wasn’t trying to set you up.”

  “You weren’t?”

  “Do you remember the last time I did that?” He shook his head. “I won’t go there again.”

  Confusion wrinkled her brow. “But you told me to look nice. And said you had someone you wanted me to meet. At the game.”

  Sam wiped a pretend tear from his eye. He waved his fingers over her. “You coming straight from a shower with wet hair and a CU shirt is you looking nice? You wanted to make this your first impression?”

  She held up the CU store bag. “No. I had a root beer mishap. So, I did damage control.” She pushed against his arm.

  Sam raised his eyebrows. “You spilled root beer on the guy you hit it off with?”

  Liz couldn’t read his e
xpression. But she decided it was best to answer the questions about the root beer before it became a family dinner conversation topic she’d never live down. “Drenched us both. But since I assumed you wanted to set me up, I didn’t want to show up soaked.”

  Grip scored a touchdown, and Liz jumped to her feet with the rest of her family as the crowd went wild.

  Sam cleared his throat. “Let me introduce you to the person who caused you to change.” Sam motioned to his dad, and his dad swapped seats with the stranger.

  The guy in the dark shirt turned toward her. Liz saw his face for the first time and her eyes widened. What were the odds? Tyler stared back at her.

  “Tyler.” Sam gestured toward Tyler. “This is my sister, Liz. She had some trouble getting here. Apparently, she was also drenched in root beer. Liz, this is Tyler, Kyle’s biographer. He’s in town to interview us.”

  Kyle’s biographer? Sam really wasn’t trying to set her up.

  Her older brother, Kyle, was two years older than Sam, and starting his sixth season of stardom in the NFL. Being MVP, running a successful charity, and following in his older brother, Ron’s and dad’s footsteps made him someone people watched. It wasn’t surprising that he’d have a biography done.

  Sam nudged Liz with his elbow. “I let him borrow my hat since I didn’t want him to look unpresentable when you finally showed up.”

  Liz glared at her brother, then looked back at Tyler.

  Neither of them moved, then Tyler cleared his throat, and extended his hand, for the second introduction of the day. “Tyler Lakewood. A pleasure to meet you.”

  Her burning cheeks flamed with blotchy heat. “And you,” she mumbled.

  Sam exchanged seats with Tyler. “Don’t get any ideas about dating my sister, Tyler.” Sam leaned toward them, out of the hearing range of Liz’s parents. “Apparently, she ran into someone on her way in, though she didn’t give him her number. But next time she sees him, she’s going to fix that, since they hit it off. I don’t set her up anymore.” He turned and started talking with their dad.

  Could her older brother be more annoying?

  Liz kept her gaze on the field, keenly aware of Tyler’s gaze in her direction.

  Tyler’s arm brushed against hers on the armrest between them. “Sorry,” he whispered.

  “For what?” Sure, her brother could embarrass her, but mostly she embarrassed herself. What were the odds that Sam wanted to introduce her to the same person she ran into?

  “I had no way to explain the root beer on my shirt. I told Sam. I didn’t know you were related to him.”

  But Sam knew. He’d been laughing at her the whole time. That’s why he wanted to get the story out of her first. She’d give him a piece of her mind later.

  Liz shrugged it off. Then she whispered, “Please don’t tell him that I had my roommate hide my keys. I might not be able to live that part down.”

  “And the part about your number?”

  She laughed. “I’ll live that part down. Besides I don’t need his advice on who I should date.”

  “Of course, you don’t.”

  “Kyle didn’t mention he was having a biography done.” She knew he’d had several offers by biographers to get his story over the years. But he hadn’t once mentioned that he was going to have a biography written this season.

  “It was only finalized a few days ago.”

  She surveyed Tyler again. He couldn’t be much older than she was. Why in the world would Kyle choose him to do the story? She was less than a year from graduating with her Masters in English. She wasn’t really expecting to write Kyle’s book herself, but Tyler couldn’t have more experience than she did, could he?

  Time to put her journalism skills to work. “How many biographies have you published?”

  He cleared his throat. “It’s actually a new genre for me. I’m ahead of schedule for production, and my agent thought I could get the majority of this written without any impact to my other projects.”

  A new genre? Meaning his experience wasn’t high. She hoped he wasn’t a groupie, of Kyle, or her family, but she had to know. “Why did Kyle choose you?”

  “You object to his choice?”

  Object to Tyler? No. But she’d seen how her family’s fame affected others. “Just curious. If you’ve never written a football player’s biography before, why are you interested now?”

  Tyler shrugged, turning back to the game and cheering for Grip, though Liz missed the play Tyler cheered for. “Kyle asked me. It’s different enough from what I regularly write, so I thought I’d give it a try.”

  “Give it a try?” Maybe he was just another fan of her brothers, looking for an in. That was too bad. She couldn’t be interested in someone who only wanted to be connected to her family. Not again.

  “Let’s save the book inquisition for later, and you can give me your phone number now, like you told Sam you would the next time you saw me.” His green eyes sparkled.

  Heat flared on her cheeks.

  His smile revealed his dimple. “I can always get it from Sam.”

  If he wasn’t interested in a connection to her family, she’d give him her number in a heartbeat. But as Kyle’s biographer? “I can always ignore you if you do.”

  * * *

  “Did you have a sundaes for breakfast kind of day, or are you going to tell me all of the details now?” Jenny sat on the couch and looked up from her book when Liz entered. She owned a four-bedroom house, and she and Liz had been roommates since freshman year in college. Eating sundaes for breakfast and swapping date stories was Liz’s favorite roommate tradition. “New shirt? Or did you change again before you left?”

  Liz dropped the bag containing her stained shirt, then joined Jenny on the couch. “It’s new. Are Mandy and Coco still out?” She wanted to tell all of her roommates at once.

  “You do have a story. I knew it.” Jenny jumped up from the couch and headed for the kitchen. Her straight chestnut hair swayed perfectly in its place. No crazy hair for Jenny. But then, Liz’s hair standing out like a bonfire in a sea of blonds and brunettes was the reason Jenny remembered her years ago.

  Jenny returned with two pints of ice cream. “Coco has a wedding shoot tomorrow that she’s preparing for. Mandy still has jet lag.”

  “You’d think with the amount Mandy travels that she’d be used to jet lag by now.” Mandy was a travel companion and tour guide for elderly women who wanted to see the world.

  Jenny handed Liz her favorite. Ben and Jerry’s Salted Caramel Core. “Spill it. What happened? Did Sam pick out a great blind date? You were gone a while.”

  Liz scooped some of the center caramel out of the carton, and swirled it around the white ice cream. “Funny thing actually. Sam wasn’t trying to set me up. I spilled my root beer on a hot guy as I headed to my seat. I confessed that you hid my keys, bought myself a shirt and his replacement food, including a root beer for me, come to think of it. Then I went and changed. We hit it off for the few minutes we talked to each other.”

  “Liz is back in the dating world? I’m shocked.”

  “Hardly. I’m open to dating. He did have gorgeous green eyes though.”

  “Did you give him your number?” Jenny sat with her spoon halfway between her carton and her mouth.

  “Before or after he ended up being the guy Sam wanted to introduce me to?”

  Jenny squealed. “No way! You told him you were avoiding Sam’s friend, and he ends up being Sam’s friend?!”

  “Thankfully Tyler isn’t really a friend. He’s Kyle’s biographer, in town to interview all Kyle’s family and friends for the story.”

  “Ah. This is perfect.”

  “Come again?”

  “You’re hesitant to date guys your brothers set you up with,” Jenny said.

  “Wouldn’t you be?” Sam meant well, but he’d introduced her to Rick, and after she broke off the engagement, Sam seemed to make up for that introduction with several others who weren’t her type either.

/>   “It’s not your fault Rick,” she said, pausing to make several gagging sounds, “was a jerk, and I can see why you’re hesitant to date your brothers’ friends.” Jenny ate a few more bites of ice cream.

  “It’s nice that someone understands,” Liz said. Rick had cared more about becoming a member of her family than he had about marrying her. He’d wanted an automatic ‘in’ to the stardom fame that was the Montgomery legacy. Consequently, she didn’t want to date guys who were already good friends with her brothers.

  “Yes, but here’s the thing. Tyler isn’t a friend of Sam’s, so he can hardly be put in the same category. Besides you said he was good-looking, and he sounds nice. Plus he had a sense of humor about the whole root beer spill.”

  “He was nice. That only makes the whole thing worse.” The idea of dating Tyler before she knew how he was connected to her family warred with the desire to stay strong on her policy.

  “What’s his name? I’m going to google him.” Jenny pulled out her phone.

  “Tyler Lakewood. This is his first biography though, so I’m not sure what genre he’s in.”

  Jenny scrunched up her nose. “Yeah. I’ll say he doesn’t write biographies.” She scrolled through the screen and mumbled, “Pen name Ty Lake—that’s clever. Best-selling author. Check. Epic fantasy is mostly what he does. He’s published a lot for only a decade in the writing business, but he doesn’t look old. Twenty-six. He published his first book when he was in high school. Wow. You should pick his brain about his writing career. He’d be fascinating to talk to.”

  “I’m not going to date someone who is working for my brother. Or someone who is connected to my family.”

  Jenny picked up the cartons of ice cream, sweeping them back into the kitchen. “It’s still a funny story. It goes on the list.” She stood in front of the fridge and wrote on the whiteboard.

  Liz rolled her eyes. Jenny loved lists and loved to overanalyze. Without the regular schedule of all the roommates swapping stories, creating a list was the easiest way to catch everyone up.