Her Cowboy Billionaire Boyfriend

by Liz Isaacson

  Not that it mattered out here, and he exhaled roughly. “Hey, guys,” he said to the horses. “So I couldn’t come last night. You got fed, right?”

  Laney had a hired hand who worked for her, and Andrew had been using him more and more, and already signed him to do all the feeding during the month of the tour. Andrew didn’t want to give up his morning ritual quite yet, so he opened outside doors and let the horses into the corral so he could clean out stalls.

  He’d pasture the horses today, and call Jake and ask him to get them back inside that night. Because Andrew was hoping for another date with Becca, even if he had to make it a business meeting.

  He wondered if he could be brave enough to ask her to dinner outright. Call it a date.

  “A date,” he said under his breath, the words a little tricky coming out of his mouth while he was alone in the barn. Wolfgang huffed, and Andrew looked up from the corner where he’d been pitching new straw.

  “A date,” he said to the horse. “Can you believe it? I went on a sort of date last night.” I mean, he didn’t hold her hand. Or ask her out again. But they’d had a good conversation about the job, and he’d learned a few things about what she liked to do in her spare time.

  “Reading,” he listed off to the horse. “And she has a dog. She likes to ski in the winter. And Wolfy, she likes bacon and cheese on her potatoes.” It didn’t matter that nearly the entire population liked bacon and cheese on potatoes. It was something they had in common and Andrew was seizing onto anything he could. Because he knew she didn’t like Springside Energy, and had spent years disliking him too.

  She hadn’t said that directly, but it was a vibe Andrew had picked up on. He’d learned to trust those feelings over the years, and he was determined to win over Becca Collings. He didn’t believe that the attraction he felt to her was one-sided, especially the way she’d lingered near her car after their meal.

  “Oh my heck,” he said, the words exploding from his mouth. “I should’ve asked her out again last night.” He looked at the horse, but Wolfgang didn’t confirm or deny. “I’ve already messed up.”

  He finished the stall and pulled out his phone, dialing Graham. His brother often drove his step-daughter to school and then went to the office, if he was coming in that day.

  “Hey,” Graham asked. “Give me two seconds.” He obviously moved the phone away from his mouth, but Andrew still heard, “All right, Bay. Have a good day. Wait, wait, wait. Don’t forget this.”

  Scuffling and static, and then the slamming of a car door, and Graham returned. “All right. What’s up?”

  “I would like to talk all the way to the end.”

  “Oh, boy,” Graham said. “Lay out the rules.”

  “No laughing. I am way out of my element here, and I already feel stupid.” He wandered out of the stable and around the side of it toward the corral and pastures. The horses seemed perfectly happy out here, and Andrew turned the handle on the spigot so he could fill the outdoor troughs.

  “I agree to the stipulations of this conversation,” Graham said dryly.

  “Great,” Andrew said, thinking of how hot it would get that day. Maybe he should have Bree come check on the horses that afternoon. “So I hired a press secretary yesterday.”

  “Becca said yes?”

  “I said I would like to talk to the end.”

  Graham grunted, so Andrew continued with, “It took some convincing, but seeing as how she doesn’t have a job, I was right in thinking she’d be pretty desperate.” He had told Graham that yesterday, when Graham had argued against the idea of offering the job to one of their loudest protestors.

  “So we went to dinner last night,” Andrew said, setting the hose in the long trough along the back of the stable. “And it was great.” Andrew sighed as he looked into the blue, blue sky. “And I…she stood by her car when it was over, like she didn’t want to get in, and then she finally did and drove away. I should’ve asked her out then, right?”

  “Let me rephrase,” Graham said. “You went to dinner with our new press secretary, like a date? And then didn’t ask her out again when she clearly lingered before leaving. And you’re wondering if you’ve messed something up with her on a personal level.”

  “About that, yeah,” Andrew said, not really liking the gruffness in his older brother’s tone.

  “I think you messed up about the time you went to dinner with an employee.”

  “She wasn’t an employee at the time, and we don’t have an official policy on co-workers dating.” Andrew would know, as it was his job to make sure anything that was media-worthy about the company was controlled, contained, and kept quiet.

  “You’re the boss,” Graham said.

  “I like her,” Andrew said simply. “She’s the first person to even stir anything in me in years.”

  “She hates our company.”

  “She said yes to the job.” Andrew felt like he was arguing with a brick wall. And he really didn’t like that Graham wasn’t happy for him that he’d found someone whose company he enjoyed enough to spend more than ten minutes with.

  “I think if you start something with her, it should stay on the down-low until the tour is over, at least,” Graham said.

  “Should I call her now and ask her out?”

  “Are you going to see her today?”

  “Yes. She’s coming to sign paperwork this afternoon.”

  “Ask her before she signs,” Graham said. “Then you can claim the relationship started before she began at Springside.”

  It wouldn’t be a lie. Andrew had felt fireworks the moment he’d sat across from her in that tiny room on the first floor.

  “And Andrew?” Graham asked.

  “Yeah?”

  “I hope it works out with her.”

  “Thanks.” Andrew hung up, a smile drifting across his face despite the amount of work he still had to do in the stables—and at Springside.

  He had time for one more text, at least. How about lunch at Springside today? he sent to Becca. I can show you our top-notch cafeteria. You get a free meal for every shift you work. I think lunch today is French dip.

  She didn’t answer until he’d finished with the horses, showered, and knotted his blue and black checkered tie with extreme precision.

  Trying to seduce me with roast beef?

  Andrew couldn’t help the laugh that spilled from his mouth. Is it working?

  I’m not sure beef is entirely convenient for me today.

  Andrew really liked her wit, and he chuckled again.

  “What’s so funny?”

  He glanced up at Celia, who set a stack of toast in front of him and asked, “Scrambled eggs?”

  “Yes, please.” Graham’s words about keeping things secret between him and Becca ran through his mind on a constant loop. “Just a funny text,” he said, hoping Celia would buy the little fib. She didn’t seem to care who he texted and turned to crack eggs into a bowl.

  Yes, I think it is. Noon okay? Becca’s text made his palm buzz the same way his pulse currently was.

  Andrew thought of how busy the cafeteria would be at noon. Plenty of people to see them, see her. But of course they’d see her. She was the new press secretary, and soon enough, she’d know everything he did about Springside, its policies and its people.

  Besides, if the cafeteria was too busy, he could take her on a tour of the building before they ate.

  Noon’s great, he sent and tucked into his breakfast, more happiness coursing through him than he knew existed.

  Hopefully, with a bit of prayer and luck, Becca would be able to see him as a separate entity from the energy company. After all, she didn’t know him, so how could she hate him?

  Six

  Becca stroked Otto’s head absently, wondering what she should wear to eat lunch in an office cafeteria. She sincerely hoped the food and atmosphere was better than the school cafeterias she’d eaten in.

  Did she have time to go to the salon and get her hair treated?
Straightened?

  She shook her head. Andrew had already seen her with the frizzy mass of curls, with no makeup on her face, and in those jeans….

  But she’d definitely need a new wardrobe to be a press secretary. She made a mental note to ask him for the budget for new clothes during their lunch. Then it was a working lunch and not a date. Right?

  Honestly, she really needed a classification for it, because she’d slept about four hours last night trying to put labels on everything that had happened that day.

  She left the big window overlooking the backyard and went into her closet. She had a black pencil skirt she wore to church, and she threw that on the bed. She could wear the sandals, though a press secretary should wear heels. She also owned a pale pink blouse her mother had sent her for her last birthday, and it looked professional with a simple gold chain around her neck and a bit of smoothing gel in her hair.

  The curls still seemed out of control to her, but she embraced them, swished a bit of mascara on her eyelashes and left with just enough time to arrive at Springside by noon.

  This time, she didn’t sit in the car and let her worry eat at her. She got out and strode toward the building she’d only been inside once.

  Stephanie, a lovely brunette probably a decade older than her, smiled and lifted onto her feet. “Becca. I wasn’t expecting you until later.” She picked up the phone. “Let me call up to Mister Whittaker’s office.

  “He’s supposed—”

  “I’m here,” Andrew said, entering the lobby from one of the hallways. He wore a navy blue suit that looked like it had been made especially for his frame. Nothing pulled too tight. Nothing was too loose. Not a strand of his hair sat out of place, and those delicious eyes devoured her as he walked closer.

  “Oh, Mister Whittaker.” Stephanie replaced the phone in its cradle.

  “She’s taking a tour,” he told her. “Carla’s got the paperwork almost finished.” Andrew leaned against the reception counter. “I’m sorry I didn’t warn you she’d be coming early.” He switched his gaze back to Becca, and heat traveled through her whole body. “You ready?” He swept his arm around the lobby as if that was the whole tour.

  Becca didn’t know what to say, so she just nodded, smiled at Stephanie, and let Andrew lead her away from the other woman.

  “I’m taking a tour?” she whispered to him when they were out of earshot.

  “Mm,” he said noncommittally—which annoyed her greatly. He opened a door to a room with a window at the back of the lobby. “Can we talk in here for a minute?” He looked casual and cool, but there was something in the undercurrent of his voice.

  “Sure,” she said brightly and entered the room first. This room was four times as large as the one she’d waited in yesterday, with a long, oval table surrounded by cushioned office chairs.

  She didn’t sit but turned to face Andrew as he followed her inside and closed the door behind her. He wouldn’t look straight at her, another huge red flag.

  “What’s going on?” she asked, maybe a little too demanding.

  He cleared his throat, and it was actually refreshing to see that he wasn’t infallible. “Okay, I’m just going to say this.”

  “All right.”

  But he said nothing. He shifted his feet. Adjusted his tie like it was choking him. He made her nervous too.

  “Just say it,” she said, fearing he’d offered her the job prematurely and was now going to take it back. Thus, he’d invented a tour so he could get her into this sterile room and break the bad news in person. At least he was enough of a gentleman to do that.

  But she’d literally never seen him shift or appear uncomfortable, ever. And she’d seen plenty of interviews and pictures of the man.

  “I’d like to ask you to dinner tonight.” His words rushed out of his mouth. “As a date. A date, with you and me. Me and you on a date.” He clamped his mouth shut as redness crept from under his collar and settled in his cheeks.

  Pure joy filled Becca. All kinds of spluttering things filled her head too, but she managed to say, “I’d like that,” without making herself into a fool.

  That beautiful grin exploded across Andrew’s face. “Okay, great. We really can take a tour, if you’d like. Or we can go check the lines in the cafeteria.” He flinched toward her like he’d touch her, maybe hold her hand as they sauntered through the Springside Energy building.

  “Is lunch a date too?” she asked, desperate for those labels.

  Andrew took a long moment to shake his head. “No, so we probably should talk about a couple of things.”

  “What things?” Maybe Becca should’ve taken a seat, but she hadn’t known this would be a long, serious conversation.

  “My brother thinks it might come off as…inappropriate if it’s public knowledge that we’re, uh….” He cleared his throat. “Dating.”

  Understanding hit Becca. “Because you’re my boss.”

  “I’m not your boss,” he said.

  “You’re everyone’s boss.” She grinned at him. “Right?”

  “I’m Andrew.” He patted his chest a couple of times. “Not Graham. Graham’s the boss.”

  “Which is why our relationship has to be secret.” She cocked her hip, enjoying this a little too much. Just the possibility of a relationship was thrilling to Becca. She’d all but given up on finding someone who could appreciate her intelligence, her quirkiness, and her less-than-Hollywood appearance.

  “It was Graham’s idea, yes.” Andrew leaned against the edge of the conference table. “But to be clear, I think he’s right. We don’t want anyone to accuse Springside of anything unethical.”

  “Is it unethical for us to, you know. Date.” She could barely say the word, and sudden appreciation for how hard Andrew had worked hit her.

  “No,” he said. “We don’t have any company policies against co-workers dating. Besides, you don’t even work here yet.”

  “Oh, so you asked me out before I signed the paperwork, is that it?”

  Andrew’s smile reached all the way into those beautiful eyes. “You don’t miss much, do you?”

  “No,” she said. “And don’t forget that.”

  “I’m actually counting on it,” he said, reaching for the door. “So while we’re at work, or anywhere people can see us, we’ll be co-workers. Not…together. So lunch today is a work meeting.”

  “Good,” she said, though she wished it were a date. “Because I have more questions.”

  “Okay,” Andrew said, completely unruffled. “And I was right about the French dip. They’re also serving a Cobb salad today, if you’d prefer that.”

  Becca said, “I’ll decide when we get there,” and let him lead her out of the conference room. She did love a Cobb salad, but she was feeling particularly like beef today, and she was only slightly ashamed to admit that it was because of the tall, strong man beside her.

  She let her hand brush his, and he pulled away and put a step of distance between them. Humiliation dove through her, and she regretted her actions. He’d literally just said that they would be purely professional at work.

  Becca liked the professional Andrew, but she really wanted to see what he looked like with a cowboy hat on, maybe his jeans a little dirty. Heck, she’d take just seeing him in anything but a suit.

  She smelled the French dip before the cafeteria came into view, and her taste buds made the decision for her.

  “So,” he said as they joined the line, which wasn’t too terribly long. “What questions did you come up with?”

  “It’s about my clothes,” she said, indicating the pale pink blouse. “This is literally the nicest thing I own. Unless you want me behind a microphone in a Greenpeace T-shirt, I’m going to need a new wardrobe.” She took the tray he handed to her. “I’m wondering if there’s a budget for that.”

  “Sure,” he said. “I can get you a card today. Or we have accounts at both department stores in town.”

  “And I what? Saunter in and say, ‘Put thi
s on Andrew Whittaker’s account.’” She looked at him and found him blinking back at her. “Oh, wow. That is what I would do.”

  “If I’ve called and authorized you to purchase clothes, yes. Otherwise, they’d call me while someone brought you a bottle of water.”

  Becca shook her head, charmed and yet annoyed at how efficient everything within Springside was. And she knew who to attribute that to—the man right beside her.

  She fought against the strong tether pulling her toward him. It seemed ridiculous in the first place. She’d literally spent years disliking this company, what they did and what they stood for, and every man who ran it. How had Andrew charmed her so completely in less than twenty-four hours?

  She thought of a sermon she’d often reflected on. One from many years ago, when she was fresh out of college and just starting her adult life. The pastor had warned against making quick judgments, for they almost always proved to be wrong in some way.

  Could she have been wrong about Springside and the Whittakers all this time? If so, maybe she and Andrew really did have a chance at a relationship.

  But if not…Becca didn’t want to consider the consequences of risking her livelihood, her future, and her heart to Andrew, even if he was the most handsome and perfectly polished man on the planet.

  The next day, Becca twisted and turned in front of three full-length mirrors, Raven smashed into the fitting room with her. “What do you think?”

  “I think it’s too bright,” Raven said immediately. “You’ve never looked good in yellow. Makes your skin look washed out and it competes with your hair.”

  At least Raven was honest. Becca valued that above almost anything, and she nodded. “You’re right.”

  “You look better in cool colors like blues, purples, and greens. Pink too.”

  “But the slacks are nice, right?” She turned and lifted the bottom of the shirt to see her rear end.

  “Very nice. You should get those.”

  They were a simple pair of black slacks, but the material felt twice as thick as anything Becca currently owned, and the price tag made her gasp.