Her Cowboy Billionaire Best Friend_A Whittaker Brothers Novel

by Liz Isaacson

  Graham had no use for any of it. The double-wide doors led out of the game room and into the backyard, but a mountain of snow pressed against the glass, and no one would be exiting that way during this holiday season.

  “So that just leaves your brother’s assistant,” Laney said as they climbed the steps to the main floor. “What’s down there?” She pointed to the couple of doors past the kitchen.

  “That one goes into the garage,” he said. “The other one is a utility room. Washer, dryer, that sort of thing.”

  “How functional,” she said, and Graham wasn’t sure if she really didn’t want the lodge tour or not.

  “And you’ve seen upstairs,” he said, deciding to end it here. “I’m sure we’ll be fine.”

  “We?” Laney faced him, a definite challenge in her eyes now. “You mean you’ll be fine.”

  “You’re coming, aren’t you?”

  “Coming for dinner isn’t the same as staying over.”

  “It’s more than dinner,” he said. “I’ve already told Bailey about the tree lighting ceremony, and she seemed excited.” His heart shriveled with every second where she didn’t confirm she would bring Bailey to every event he’d planned for the holidays.

  “We’ll have to see,” Laney said, as he’d suspected she would. “I have a ranch to run, and with the snow, it’ll be ten times as much work as it normally is.” A measure of exhaustion passed through her eyes, and Graham wanted to erase it for her.

  “I’ll come help,” he said.

  She laughed, this sound only half as cheery as previously. “I’ve seen you do farm work,” she said. “I’m probably better off without you.”

  “Ouch.” He grinned at her and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “What just happened there?”

  “Where?”

  “In the basement. Between the basement and here.”

  Her eyes darted away, toward the garage, and then came back to his. “It’s just…I mean, I knew you had a lot of money.”

  “Mm hm.” Graham didn’t want to talk about money, especially his.

  “How much do you have, exactly?”

  “Why does it matter?”

  Laney’s features hardened, and she said, “It doesn’t. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”

  And suddenly Graham wanted to tell her. He checked the kitchen but couldn’t see or hear Bailey or Annie. “When my father died, his fortune largely went to my mother. Us boys each got a piece, and….”

  Laney slipped her hand into Graham’s again and strolled toward the foyer. He waited until they were steadily climbing the steps before he said, “I run the company, so I got a bigger share. It’s…big.” Why couldn’t he say it out loud?

  Laney didn’t ask, and he told himself that if she did, he’d tell her.

  “Would you say we’re friends?” she asked.

  He lifted their joined hands. “I’d say so.”

  She gave a tight smile. “I’d say you’re my best friend.” Her voice could barely be heard, though the rest of the house sat in silence. “Just like in high school and all growing up.”

  “Those were good times.”

  “The best.”

  Graham took a deep breath. “Laney, you’re my best friend too.” He tightened his grip on her fingers. “Which is why I wasn’t sure I should do this.”

  “Have you thought about it long?”

  “Long enough.” He’d gotten good at saying nothing over the course of the last year. Most people didn’t demand a straight answer, and Laney was one of them.

  “So my ranch is barely staying afloat,” she said. “I’m doing the best I can, but sometimes it’s lean.”

  Graham immediately wanted to help her, but he knew Laney would refuse. And probably stop holding his hand. And talking to him. She was beautiful and kind, but stubborn and hard-working too. She would not take his charity, even if he tried to give it to her anonymously.

  “I have nine zeroes in my bank account,” he said as they reached the first door at the top of the steps, the room where Annie had been staying.

  Laney chuckled. “Ah, so I have a cowboy billionaire best friend. Good to know.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t really call myself a cowboy.”

  “You have the hat.”

  “Is that all it takes?”

  “Around these parts?” Laney glanced at him, a playful expression on her face. “I’d say so.”

  He gave a light laugh and tucked her into his side, realizing that was right where he wanted her to be.

  Working together, he and Laney got his horses taken care of and went down to her ranch too. She had a lot more animals than he did, but they all seemed to have come through the worst of the storm all right.

  They checked blankets and filled troughs. The barn dogs had a cozy room where they holed up, and she put three times as much food as they needed. Without the heaters, the chickens hadn’t fared so well.

  “Oh, no.” Laney picked up one frozen bird. “Bailey will be so upset. She’s named them all. It’s her job to feed the chickens.”

  “Let’s move the rest of them into the barn.” They did, the work hard through the snow and the gray sky and the cold. With everything taken care of, she checked the house and came out only a few minutes later.

  “Still no power,” she called to him, a worried look on her face. “I’m going to pack another bag. Can we stay with you?”

  “Of course.” He kept the broad smile off his face but felt the warmth spreading through his whole body.

  “I’ll make Bailey come sleep with me,” she said. “We won’t take up two of your bedrooms.”

  “It’s fine,” he said. “By my count, we only need one more room upstairs, and we have three.” He gazed at her, wondering how to help her. “Besides, they’re not coming in for another day anyway.”

  “I’ll call about the power tomorrow,” she said, glancing back toward her house. “I don’t know why I didn’t call today.” She faced him again. “My pipes are all going to be frozen.”

  “The power company wouldn’t have been able to come anyway.” Graham hadn’t thought of it either, and the fact was, he liked having Laney and Bailey upstairs, and he hoped they might be able to stay for several more days. He looked up into the sky. “It’s just starting to clear up.”

  “And the forecast says it’s supposed to snow overnight.” Laney heaved a big sigh and spread her arms wide to the sky. She turned in a circle and said, “Remember when we used to shout what we wanted into the sky?”

  Graham remembered, but he didn’t want to play that game right now. Because he was looking at what he wanted, and he wasn’t sure he could censor himself if she insisted he bellow to the clouds the way they had as eighth graders.

  “What are you gonna yell?” He watched her, her presence so strong as she twirled in the snow, her boots crunching it down.

  She came to a stop and faced him, a giant grin on her face. He returned the smile, her happiness almost infectious, and the electric charges in his pulse testified that his feelings for her weren’t because Bonnie had put the idea in his head to ask her out.

  “Why did we ever go out before?” he asked, cocking his head.

  Her smile slipped, and Graham did some major backpedaling. “I mean, I was dating…someone. What was her name?” And why couldn’t he remember it?

  “Emma Darrow,” Laney said immediately. “She married Flynn Mason, you know.”

  “I think I heard that.” A long, long time ago. She probably had children the same age he was last time he’d thought about Emma.

  “And we never dated because we weren’t that kind of friends.” Laney folded her arms as if hugging herself to keep warm.

  Graham took a step toward her and then another one. “Are we that kind of friends now?” He ran his gloved hands from her elbows to her shoulders and back down, really hoping she’d say yes.

  “I think we should probably define what kind of friends we are,” she said, a shaky note in her voice on
the last few words. “What with your family coming into town and all.”

  Graham nodded, but he didn’t open his mouth to make any such definitions.

  “Oh, you want me to start?” Her eyes crinkled as she smiled and shook her head. “Always making me do the heavy lifting.”

  “Hey, I got down all the hay to feed the horses over here.” He grinned at her.

  “Yes, well.” She put her hands on his biceps and squeezed, though she surely couldn’t feel anything through his thick, winter coat. “These muscles should be good for so much more than that.”

  “Different kind of lifting,” he said, still wanting her to begin. She seemed interested in him, and he wondered how long she’d thought of him as a man she’d like to go to dinner with. Hold hands with. Maybe even kiss….

  “I had a crush on you in high school,” she said with a swallow. “Did you know?”

  Graham blinked, sure he’d heard her wrong. “I had no idea.” Foolishness raced through him at the speed of light. “You never acted like it.”

  She lifted one shoulder in a shrug and Graham dropped his hands to her waist. The desire to kiss her soared toward the heavens as she laid her cheek against his chest and exhaled. “You always had Emma, and I always knew you’d leave Coral Canyon. I’m actually surprised you’re back.” She leaned away from him and searched his face. “You’re planning to stay, right?”

  If he wanted to keep those nine zeroes. “Yes,” he said. “I’m planning to stay.”

  Laney looked like she didn’t quite believe him, but she nodded.

  “So,” he said.

  A flirtatious twinkle entered her light eyes, making them sparkle like gems. “So what?”

  “So you tell me what kind of friends we are so I can decide what to do next.”

  “What do you want to do next?”

  He swallowed, finding his throat very, very dry. “Do I have to yell it into the sky?”

  She shook her head slowly as if she knew exactly what he wanted, the ends of her hair brushing the backs of his gloves.

  “No,” she said slowly. “You can whisper it to me if you want.”

  He bent down, taking a careful breath of the scent of her hair, her skin. He got something soft mixed with something fruity, and the combination of smells nearly drove him to madness.

  “I want to kiss you,” he whispered, his lips dangerously close to her earlobe.

  She shivered in his arms, and he hoped it wasn’t all because of the cold temperatures. “All right.”

  He pulled back slightly so he could see her face. “All right?”

  She nodded, and Graham switched his gaze to those lips that had tormented him for a full twenty-four hours. He lowered his head toward her, thrilled when she stretched up on her toes. Inch by inch, he closed the distance between them, sure he was about to kiss her.

  “Wait,” she said, planting one hand on his chest.

  He froze, waiting, but she said nothing.

  Chapter 9

  Laney’s heart thundered against her ribs like she was about to go over a steep set of falls in a boat with no lifejacket.

  “I—” she started, only to have her voice fail her.

  “It’s okay.” Graham started to retreat from her, physically and emotionally, and she hated that. Wanted him right beside her, confiding in her, helping her on this ranch.

  “No,” she said quickly, her grip tightening on his one shoulder and moving her hand from his chest to behind his neck. “Don’t go.”

  “What is it?”

  She liked that he wasn’t demanding but still wanted to know. Those dark eyes searched hers, full of compassion and hunger and a pinch of frustration.

  “I haven’t kissed a man in a long time,” she blurted out. “I’ve been divorced for three years, and it was over long before that.” She licked her lips, wishing her salivary glands hadn’t gone on vacation during this conversation.

  Graham’s expression filled with kindness. “And you think you’ve forgotten how?”

  She lifted that one shoulder again. “Maybe.”

  “How about we try it and I’ll let you know?” His eyes glinted with danger now, with need.

  She giggled. “I sort of feel like I’ve ruined the moment.”

  “Not at all.” He dipped his head and ran the tip of his nose along her cheek, his lips touching the soft skin just behind her jawbone. She sucked in a breath and gripped his shoulders tighter.

  If he kissed her, she felt sure she wouldn’t even be able to stay standing. Heat filled her body, making her feel like she was steaming in the sub-zero temperatures.

  Graham kneaded her closer, and she’d spent a lot of time thinking about what kissing him would be like, so when he finally touched his lips to hers, she knew exactly what to expect.

  At least she thought she did.

  An explosion of fire burst through her, and she lifted onto her toes to make his feather light touch stronger. She matched him stroke for stroke, and she knew that all of her fantasies as a teenager were way off the mark.

  So were the dreams she’d had this past year.

  Because kissing Graham was so much better than anything she could’ve imagined.

  Several seconds passed before he broke the connection just long enough to murmur, “You still know how to do it, Laney,” before kissing her again.

  Laney sort of floated back to the lodge, not feeling the bite of the winter air until she was back inside where it was warn and she could appreciate how cold it had been outside.

  “Mom, I helped Annie make lunch.”

  “Hmm?” Laney looked down at the blonde angel before her, taking an extra moment to recognize the girl as her daughter. “Is it lunchtime already?”

  “It was an hour ago,” Annie said, still wearing the apron from that morning. She put both hands on her hips and also wore a knowing expression.

  Laney’s stomach grumbled. “I am hungry.”

  “Me too.” Graham arranged his boots on the drying mat in the mudroom where he’d hung his coat too. “You didn’t have to make anything, Annie. There’re leftovers in the fridge.”

  “Miss Bailey wanted grilled cheese sandwiches.” The redhead gazed fondly at Bailey and tousled her hair. “She did a great job with buttering the bread.”

  Once again, guilt flowed through Laney with the force of river rapids. If they were still in their home, Bailey probably would’ve eaten cold cereal or a PB&J for lunch. Laney would’ve talked to her about it before she went out to do the chores, and she wouldn’t feel this pinch of guilt behind her heart that someone else had been taking care of her child while she kissed a handsome man by the barn.

  The ghost of that kiss still lingered on her lips, but she refused to let her hands drift up to touch them.

  “I’ll heat something up,” Graham said, completely oblivious to Laney’s inner turmoil. Of course he was. Bailey wasn’t his daughter, and even if she was, he wouldn’t feel the same. She knew from personal experience.

  Mike had often told her she had too soft of a heart, that Bailey needed to be raised with love but that disappointment, chores, and hard times were okay too.

  Well, she’d had plenty of experience with all of the above since he’d walked out on them.

  “Roast beef from last night?” Graham held up a plastic container. “Or orange chicken with brown rice?”

  “Orange chicken,” Laney said, pushing the guilt back and letting her interest in the food take over. “Who makes their own orange chicken? I thought you could only get that from The Magic Noodle.”

  Graham made a face. “The Magic Noodle isn’t even good.” He cracked the lid on the container and stuck it in the microwave.

  “Mom likes the teriyaki noodles.”

  “I love noodles,” Laney admitted with a shrug and a smile. “And I’m not driving sixty minutes round-trip to Jackson for Chu’s, though it is better.” But if she had that kind of time and money, she wouldn’t have been praying all these weeks for God to send h
er a miracle.

  As she watched Graham bustle around his kitchen, pulling out plates and silverware so they could eat, she wondered if the Lord had answered her prayers—just not in the way she’d thought they should be answered.

  The rest of the day passed, with Bailey making nameplates for everyone coming into town while Laney supervised. Annie left sometime in the early evening, and Celia arrived with bags and bags of groceries.

  Laney made herself useful, not quite sure what to do with empty hours. She was so used to having dozens of items on her to-do list and never quite crossing them all off. Sitting at the kitchen table while her daughter colored and she did nothing…well, Laney thought she might go mad if she had to do it for much longer.

  Celia was her mother’s age, and a lifelong resident of Coral Canyon herself, so Laney donned the apron Annie had been wearing earlier that day, washed her hands, and said, “Put me to work, Celia,” with a smile that was probably one part friendliness and two parts overeager.

  “Can you peel carrots and potatoes?” Celia kept unpacking the groceries.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  She pointed to a ten-pound bag of russets. “All of those.” She slapped a bag of carrots about half as big. “And these.”

  While peeling potatoes wasn’t high on Laney’s list of fun things to spend her time doing, she picked up the peeler and got to work. “What are you making?”

  “Beef stew,” she said. “Chicken pot pie. French toast breakfast casserole. Lasagna. Stuff Graham can put in the oven and serve with rolls or bagged salad or fruit.”

  “I don’t think he eats fruit.” Laney sent long strips of brown skins into the sink.

  Celia laughed, the sound filling the kitchen with more life than Laney had felt in years. She smiled at the older woman.

  “You’re probably right about that.” She finished chuckling and folded the reusable grocery bags. “But I heard there will be women and children here, and they should probably have access to something that isn’t brown.”