Her Cowboy Billionaire Blind Date: A Whittaker Family Novel (Christmas in Coral Canyon Book 7)

by Liz Isaacson

  “Finley?” she asked.

  “Finn,” he said. “I go by Finn. Two N’s.”

  She smiled again and took a sip of her drink. “Okay, Finn. Do you have children?”

  “Yes,” he said, getting his brain to work. “I’ve got two daughters. Joann is thirty, and Kimberly is twenty-seven. They live in Jackson Hole. My ex-wife lives there too.”

  She nodded, absorbing the information without a trace of judgement on her face. Finn appreciated that. “And where do you live? I think I’d know if you were here in Coral Canyon.”

  “Would you?” he asked, grinning at her. “How’s that?”

  “Well, I’ve lived here for almost forty-five years. This place isn’t that big.”

  “It’s gotten a lot bigger recently,” he said, glancing out the window as if the evidence of town growth would be right there.

  “True,” Amanda said. “But I still think I’d know if there was a handsome man like you in town. Available.”

  His gaze flew back to hers. Handsome? She really was better at this dating thing than he was. “I live in Dog Valley,” he said. “I own a boarding stable out there.” She didn’t need to know that he came from one of the richest racehorse stables in the country. Or that, years ago, he’d invented the software she probably used to do her online banking. Or that the horses he bred, trained, and worked with sold for hundreds of thousands of dollars.

  No one needed to know that. At least not right now.

  “Dog Valley,” she said, that smile showing all her straight, white teeth. “That’s great.”

  “Yeah?” he asked. “It’s thirty minutes away from here.”

  “Less staring,” she said with a definite hint of flirtation in her voice.

  Finn laughed, wishing he’d worn his cowboy hat. Graham had warned him against it though, saying the woman he was meeting needed to be “eased in” to the idea of dating a cowboy.

  Finn had almost called it off right then. He was a cowboy. He’d been born with spurs on. Dust for blood. The sound of horse’s hooves clomping in his nursery at night.

  “Oh, I think you’ll find plenty of people staring in Dog Valley,” he said. “Remember how I said I hadn’t been out with anyone in a while?” He shook his head, glad when his frozen drink came too, and he had something else to focus on.

  “People know you then?” she asked.

  “Yes,” he said simply. “People out there know me.”

  She kept the smile in place, and Finn let her ask another question, hoping he could live up the standards of this woman, get her number for himself, and set up a second date real soon.

  “And she has grandkids,” he told Vanilla, the yellow lab who followed him everywhere. Chocolate and Licorice had gotten sick of the date recap about ten minutes ago, but Finn was still floating on air.

  He’d just gone on a date for the first time in two years, and it wasn’t horrible. In fact, it was downright amazing, and he had left Devil’s Tower with Amanda’s number in his phone and the promise to call her dripping from his lips.

  “She’s a little older than me,” he told Vanilla as he shut off all the lights and made sure the doors were locked. He had three Labrador retrievers, and they’d definitely alert him if there was a problem. Not that Finn expected any. His land was pretty remote, with the nearest neighbor living five miles away.

  But sometimes wild animals ventured onto his property, scaring the horses. He made sure they were all locked properly in the barn each night, because losing one was like losing an entire year’s salary.

  “I just can’t believe we hit it off,” he said. “I honestly wasn’t expecting to like her. I was only doing it as a favor to Graham.” When his friend had called and said he had the perfect date for Finn, he’d almost said no.

  But something in him had made him pause and listen. “He still should’ve said it was his mother, don’t you think?”

  Vanilla didn’t answer, just clicked alongside Finn as he went down the hall to the master suite. Chocolate and Licorice were curled up on the right side of the bed, practically on top of one another. Vanilla jumped up there next to them, circled around, and flopped down.

  “You guys will have to move so I can get the covers,” he said, their nightly routine. Of course, the dogs would not move. They were three of the most stubborn canines on the planet, almost like they prided themselves on being wonderful, loyal, and downright maddening.

  If Finn had a bit of liver pinched between his fingers, all three of them would do whatever he said. And they were great with the horses, and Licorice could even herd the chickens.

  “Go on,” he said. “Move.” He had to heave the dogs off the bed one by one to get his blanket out from under them, and then he fell asleep almost instantly, a smile on his face for the first time in a long, long time.

  The following morning, Finn forced himself to work through his morning chores as normal. Set a pot of coffee to brew as normal. Set bread in the toaster. Take his vitamins. Send a couple of texts to his daughters.

  It was Sunday, so he showered and as he walked down the hall, adjusting his tie, he decided he’d waited long enough to call Amanda.

  Weren’t men supposed to call the next day?

  He wasn’t sure what time she’d be at church, though they had talked about her pastor a bit the night before. Well, she had. Amanda had pretty much dominated the conversation as Finn loosened up and remembered what it was like to talk to a beautiful woman.

  He hadn’t been great at it, but he felt he could improve, with enough time and practice. He felt younger than he had in years as the phone rang. He fiddled with his knot still, something about it not right. But he couldn’t devote full brain power to fixing it, because he was calling Amanda Whittaker.

  His heart raced faster with every second she didn’t pick up. The call finally ended, and he hung up before her voicemail message started.

  A moment later, his phone buzzed in his hand, cutting through the disappointment raging through him. In church, Amanda said. I’ll call you later?

  Mine starts in a half an hour, he messaged back, his thumbs feeling thick and slow.

  Maybe I could bring you lunch, she said, and Finn’s breath burst from his body.

  Sure, his sausage-fingers typed out. Not spending today with your family?

  She’d mentioned the lodge up the west canyon, and when she spoke of her sons, their wives and families, it was clear she loved them deeply. Finn had liked that. Liked the enthusiasm family sparked in her.

  He didn’t see his daughters much, and he had no reason to talk to Holly anymore. But he loved Kimberly and Joann, and he did talk to them, text them, and stay in touch with them regularly. Neither of them was interested in breeding and training racehorses, but Finn hadn’t been able to give up his boarding stable, tuck his tail, and return to Nashville.

  He wouldn’t.

  He didn’t need his father’s power and prestige. He was doing just fine selling to the rich and famous on his own. Of course, his last name helped.

  It had been too long for him to return to the family farms in Nashville anyway. He’d been gone for thirty-five years, and grudges ran deep in the South.

  Amanda hadn’t answered his question, and he would be late for church if he didn’t get going. So he banished thoughts of his father to the back of his mind, took off his tie and re-tied it, and headed out the door, hoping he hadn’t upset Amanda by asking her about her family.

  After all, he really had no idea how to date at age fifty-five, with a bruised heart and his whole life wrapped up in horses that ate better meals than he did.

  Chapter Three

  Amanda kept her phone face-down on her lap, though she’d felt the buzz from a text several minutes ago. Beau had been watching her like a hawk since she’d arrived, and Graham had deviated from his usual spot in the chapel.

  She’d arrived late on purpose, barely sliding onto the end of the bench just as Pastor Franklin had stood up to begin. Lily hadn’t handed o
ver Charlie, and Amanda’s tension hadn’t eased a single bit—until Finn had called.

  Beau had seen the screen, and then he’d focused on his own phone. The sneak. She didn’t need her sons gossiping about her love life, though she didn’t really have one of those.

  Finally, the sermon ended, and she exploded to her feet only to find Andrew standing there, blocking her escape. He was just as tall and wide as his brothers, and Amanda sighed. Out of all of her sons, Andrew had had the hardest time with her dating after his father had died.

  That was a few years ago, though, and he handed his daughter Chrissy to her and said, “Want to ride up to the lodge with me and Becca today?”

  “I’m not going to the lodge today,” Amanda said, deciding on the spot.

  “Her date went really well last night,” Beau said, sandwiching her on the other side.

  “How do you know?” she asked, shaking her head even as a smile crossed her face.

  “He called you, and you lit up like the Christmas tree at the lodge.” Beau chuckled and nudged her farther out into the aisle so he and Lily could get out too. “Here comes Graham.”

  “So, Mom,” he said, somehow shouldering his way into the aisle beside Andrew. “How did you like Finn?”

  She looked around at her three sons, wishing Eli was there with them. A sudden, powerful pang of missing hit her. For her son and his wife and family in California. For her husband.

  Though it had been six years, tears still pricked her eyes that she couldn’t go home to him. Smile, and ask him about work. Put something in the oven and talk about church. She’d loved him so much, and she could see parts of him in each of her son’s faces as they looked at her, waiting for an explanation.

  She drew in a deep breath. “He was great,” she admitted. “I really liked him.”

  A smile burst across Graham’s face. “That’s great, Mom.”

  “She’s not coming to the lodge,” Andrew said.

  “She offered to take him lunch,” Beau added.

  “Okay, I’m leaving.” Amanda handed Chrissy back to Andrew, and the little girl started fussing and reaching for Amanda again. So she took her back, absolute love flowing through her as the two-year-old hugged her.

  “Are you really taking him lunch?” Graham asked.

  “I don’t even know how you saw that,” Amanda said, glaring at Beau.

  “I have good eyes. What can I say?”

  “I told him not to spy on you,” Lily said. “He—”

  “We just want you to be happy,” Beau said over his wife. “So go. Make something delicious for lunch. We’ll miss you at the lodge.” He leaned over and kissed his mother on the forehead.

  Graham did too, and Andrew took his daughter back and hugged Amanda. “Have fun, Mom.”

  She watched them walk away from her, the chapel nearly empty now. Part of her mourned the fact that she wouldn’t be spending the afternoon with them. And the other part of her couldn’t wait to get home and start leafing through her recipe book.

  Two hours later, she had Finn’s address in her phone, a pot of chicken tortilla soup in a box on the passenger seat beside her, and her nerves bouncing around like jumping beans.

  And Beans on her lap, comforting her. She’d texted Finn several times as she waited for the soup to simmer to perfection, and he’d said to bring out her dog. Plenty of animals out here, he said. I have three dogs.

  Three dogs.

  Amanda had asked what kind, and he’d told her they were all Labradors. “Big dogs,” she said to Beans. “Don’t let them scare you, okay, baby?”

  She turned when her maps program told her to, and the road turned from asphalt to dirt. A couple of miles down the road, the buildings started. And not cheap ones. Really nice, well-kept buildings in an array of sizes.

  “Wow,” she said. Finn had never said what he did for a living, but she saw the Barber’s Racehorses and Breeds sign painted in huge letters on the side of building that had to be a hundred yards long.

  The house sat just past that, as per his instructions, and she pulled in beside a big, navy blue truck with a round logo on the driver’s door. Amanda looked at the house, and it felt…nice. Homey. Like a place that had a feminine hand guiding it, though Finn had said he hadn’t dated in a while.

  She got out and rounded the front of her SUV as Finn came down the front steps. “Hey,” he said, a smile on his face and in his voice. “Can I help?”

  “Sure.” She took a moment to look at him. Really look. He was fifty-five-years-old, and absolutely stunning, the sunlight haloing him in golden rays. “Hey.” Without thinking too hard, she stepped over to him and put one hand on his shoulder. Tipping up to his height, she kissed his cheek. “It’s good to see you. How was church?”

  She moved away, so many sensations prickling through her. He smelled good, and looked dashing in those dark slacks, white shirt, and striped tie. She’d always liked a man in a tie, and wow, he wore his well.

  “Good,” he said behind her, his voice a bit lower than normal. She glanced over her shoulder to find he hadn’t moved.

  “Come grab these rolls, would you?” She opened the door and reached for the bag of rolls she’d bought on the way out. “I can’t wait to try your peach jam.”

  That set him into motion, and he took the bread from her. “I hope you like it. It’s my sister’s recipe.”

  Amanda heaved the pot out of the box and kicked the door closed with her foot. She’d changed out of her dress for church, and she suddenly felt self-conscious as she followed Finn up the sidewalk to the front door.

  “This is a beautiful place,” she said, taking in the emerald green grass, the flowers lining the cement, the huge pot of petunias on the porch. Windchimes tinkled from the rain gutter, and he even had a red, white, and blue wreath hanging on the front door.

  Amanda didn’t know what to think, but she sure did like the peaceful feeling of this house, this land, this man.

  Feeling a bit out of sorts, she followed him inside. Three dogs immediately started sniffing her, one black, one yellow, and one brown. “Oh, Beans,” she said, remembering her poochon in the car.

  “I’ll get her.” Finn set the rolls on the kitchen counter and turned back toward her. He paused right at her side and looked at her. “It’s good to see you, too.”

  Warmth filled her whole body as his footsteps went back out the front door. A smile touched her lips, and she set the pot on the stove though it was probably still plenty warm. She could turn on a burner, and she did, listening to the clicking of the gas until the flame caught.

  She turned and looked around the kitchen, dining room, and living area, the wide windows along the back wall showing a large deck and yard and barns beyond.

  In that moment, she realized that Finn was very, very wealthy. He’d said nothing about it at dinner the night before. In fact, he’d said very little about himself. He’d talked about his family, his daughters, and Dog Valley. His dogs and horses.

  But not much about himself.

  “That’s because you dominated the conversation,” she muttered to herself, stepping over to the double doors that led outside.

  A moment later, a shrill, sharp bark filled the air, and she turned back to find Beans cowering among the bigger dogs. “It’s okay, Beany Baby,” she said, crossing over to the scene just inside the front door. Beans had a small dog personality, with loads of nervous energy that usually wore off within a few minutes.

  She sniffed and let herself be sniffed, and Finn smiled at the dogs as he slipped his hand into Amanda’s. She stilled and looked down at their now joined hands. His skin was warm and wonderful, and she felt like a young woman again, standing there with her brand-new boyfriend, the possibilities before them endless.

  “I made chicken tortilla soup,” she said. “I know it’s almost June, but I’m of the opinion that soup can be consumed any time of year.” She flashed him a smile, and he chuckled. She tugged on his hand, and they walked into the kitchen tog
ether.

  “So, Finn,” she said, dropping his hand and opening a drawer in the hopes of finding a ladle. “What do you do for a living?”

  He didn’t answer right away, and Amanda continued in her quest to find the utensils she wanted. She did, turning her back to him to stir the soup.

  “I breed and sell racehorses,” he finally said.

  “I saw the sign on the barn on the way in.”

  “That was my arena,” he said, clearing his throat afterward.

  Amanda appreciated the nerves she heard in his voice. She kept her eyes on the food, hoping this wasn’t too sensitive of a subject. “Do you maintain everything yourself?”

  “Yes, ma’am. I mean, I have a few guys come in sometimes. During harvest season. Springtime to get everything up for the summer. That kind of stuff.”

  Amanda glanced at him, her feelings for him too soft already. She’d fallen fast for Ronald when she was younger, but she’d been much more careful with her heart in the past several years.

  Until Finn. She felt herself sliding right down a slippery slope already, and she’d been out with him one time. Hadn’t even known him for twenty-four hours yet.

  “How’d you get into racehorses?”

  “Uh, my father bred them. In Kentucky.”

  Amanda abandoned the soup now, turning toward him instead. He stood at the counter, pulling knives and spoons out of a drawer in the island. He turned and opened a cupboard to pull down a couple of bowls, and their eyes met.

  “If I looked you up on the Internet….” Amanda let the question hang there.

  “Oh, well.” He shrugged and continued getting the dishes out. “You’d find a lot about my father. The Barber horse farms are some of the biggest in the South.”

  “Ah, I see.” She turned off the flame beneath the soup. “I think this is ready.”

  Chapter Four

  Finn’s heart seemed to be connected to an extra fifty amps of power whenever he looked at Amanda. Thought about Amanda. And a man his age needed to be careful with his heart.