The Cowboy's Fake Marriage (Sweet Fake Marriage Romance Book 1)

by Bree Livingston

  Grace nodded. “Sure.” She walked to the pickup and climbed in. As she got settled, Jackson threw a glance her way and put the truck in drive.

  He hadn’t meant to snap at her, but it’d hit him wrong. Did he look so desperate for companionship that she thought he’d fall for the first woman who struck his interest? He probably did, but that didn’t mean he was interested in a relationship, especially one with her.

  After several minutes of silence, Grace twisted in the seat. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I don’t know you very well, but what little I do know, after working on the fence all afternoon, I think you’re great. I don’t want to hurt you. Not that I think I’m all that wonderful, but when you’re working with someone, it’s easy to get messages mixed, and I didn’t want that.”

  He glanced at her. “I know. I’m sorry I snapped at you. How about this? I’m not interested in you like that. We’ll both keep a professional distance, and when the house is done, we’ll shake hands and part as friends.” Why did the word “friend” leave such a bad taste in his mouth? That’s all he wanted.

  “That sounds like a great plan.”

  “All right,” he said and stuck out his hand. “Deal?”

  She shook his hand. “Deal.”

  “Okay, now that we’ve established ground rules. Care to tell me a little about yourself since we’ll be roommates for the next three months?”

  “Well, I told you my family lives in Corpus Christi, which includes my mom, two sisters, and my grandpa. My mom and dad divorced when I was little. I don’t see him much. My mom remarried a few years ago, and he’s a nice man. I’m still getting used to him. How about you?”

  “I have a kid brother, Logan. By kid, I mean he’s younger than me by three years.”

  “How old are you?” Grace asked.

  “I’m thirty-one.”

  She smiled. “Me too. When’s your birthday?”

  “April 4th.”

  Her jaw dropped. “Really? Me too.”

  “Really?”

  “No.” She giggled.

  He bumped her shoulder. “Joker. When is it?”

  “It was two weeks ago.”

  “Happy belated birthday.”

  “Thank you.”

  “How did you get into design?”

  “I’ve loved it all my life. I wanted to study it in school, but my mom said I should be practical, which is why I studied business. Bret’s the one who encouraged me to follow my heart. There was an opening in a local design group, the one I’ve been with this whole time, and I put in an application. There were all these meetings and different interviews. It came down to me and two others.”

  “And you won.”

  “Yep. I’ll never forget what Yolanda said to me. ‘Grace, you have more potential than any new designer I’ve met. There’s no doubt in my mind you’ll be a star.’”

  “That’s high praise.”

  “You have no idea. It was the most incredible feeling. I left that meeting, floating on a cloud. Someone liked me and liked my ideas. No one ever liked my ideas. My mom and sisters are so different from me. My mom and my oldest sister are both lawyers, and my other older sister is an accountant.”

  “And your stepdad?”

  “He’s a lawyer too.”

  “Wow, a family full of lawyers. That has to be fun at holidays.”

  She snorted. “I think it’d be more fun to watch grass grow. In fact, I’ve snuck out and done just that. It was like being at a dance club.”

  Jackson laughed hard enough his eyes watered.

  “So, Logan? Tell me about him.”

  He cleared his throat and pinned his gaze on the road in front of him. “Our mom left just after Logan was born. My uncle raised us both until my dad decided he wanted a son. He picked up Logan one day, and from then on, I saw him at holidays when my dad would drop him off here in Willow Valley.” He clamped his mouth shut and waited for the typical response.

  “Wow. Well, he’s a jerk. Good thing your uncle raised you. I can tell you were better off that way.”

  Jackson nearly swallowed his tongue. “You’re not going to tell me you’re sorry?”

  “Why? Seems like Logan’s the one who needs that. Can you imagine being raised by someone who’d do that?”

  That was a new way to think about it. Why hadn’t he ever turned it around like that? He shot a quick glance at Grace. She was different, and he found himself looking forward to the next three months. What other things could she turn around?

  When he pulled the pickup to a stop in front of the house, Quincy was already waiting for them, holding what Jackson assumed was Grace’s luggage. His uncle was going to give him an earful. Not only about being late but for putting a guest to work on top of it. Wait until his uncle found out he hadn’t fed her lunch.

  “I thought we were having dinner? And why does that young woman look like she’s been working in the field?” He handed Grace the suitcase. “Told you I’d bring it.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Sure thing.” He turned his attention back to Jackson. “Do I get an answer to my question, bud?”

  Jackson rubbed the back of his neck.

  “Actually, that’s my fault,” Grace said.

  Quincy raised an eyebrow and looked at Jackson. “Oh really?”

  She smiled. “I’m going to stay here and help him get the house restored.”

  “Is that so? I thought you had some high-dollar client you were late meeting?”

  Grace shrugged. “Well, I don’t now, and I can’t stand the thought of this house not getting fixed up.” She looked from Quincy to Jackson. “I’m going to take a shower, if that’s okay.”

  “Sure. Just don’t use all the hot water.” He winked.

  She smiled and pulled her luggage toward the house. Once she was inside, Jackson gave Quincy the play-by-play of what happened in the barn with Hannah, including the part about Grace jumping in and telling Hannah they were engaged. Then he told him about their arrangement.

  “So, she isn’t engaged?” his uncle asked.

  “No.”

  “I thought so.”

  Jackson narrowed his eyes. “I knew you set me up. I thought we’d agreed you weren’t meddling anymore.” Jackson crossed his arms over his chest. “Uncle Quincy, you’ve got to stop.”

  Quincy shrugged. “Well, now I don’t have to meddle.”

  “This is a business arrangement. Nothing more. We’ve both made that very clear.”

  His uncle chuckled. “Just ’cause your head says one thing don’t mean your heart has to agree. There’s something different about her.”

  Jackson had to give him that. There was definitely something different about her. The kiss they shared had been brief, but he’d liked the feel of her lips. He’d never tell his uncle they’d kissed. Quincy would make sure he never heard the end of it.

  “At least I don’t have to lie about not being able to find the parts to her car now.”

  “What?”

  “Her radiator is busted, but I can get a part by tomorrow. I was going to forget to order it a while.”

  Jackson cursed under his breath. “You meddlesome old—”

  “Old what?” His uncle gave him a dirty look.

  “Nothing. Just don’t meddle here. We’ve got it worked out, and I need the help. I don’t want to lose the house.”

  “I won’t meddle.”

  Jackson leveled his eyes at Quincy. The way he said it meant he was absolutely going to meddle. He might not have to get creative with her car parts, but he’d find other ways to butt in.

  “I won’t.”

  Jackson wanted to believe him, but he’d known the man too long to think for a second that he wouldn’t stick his nose in if he thought he could or should. With Grace, though, his meddling wouldn’t stand a chance. Then again, with the way his uncle worked, who knows what would happen.

  Chapter 7

  Grace pushed flyaway strands of hair back from her face as sh
e peeled off wallpaper. She’d woken in the middle of the night, and unable to go back to sleep, she decided it was as good a time as any to start working. With only three months to get the house ready, they didn’t have time to spare.

  She’d silently sneaked downstairs and started in the dining room where Jackson had left off. The wallpaper was old and stuck like superglue. She picked at small pieces with her fingernails, enough that they were starting to hurt, but she pressed on. This would be the toughest room since she wanted to keep the plaster. Hiring that out would be costly and something Jackson didn’t have the money for.

  Dinner the night before had been wonderful, even if it was just cold sandwiches. Something about working hard always made food taste better to her. His uncle had stayed a few hours, and she’d found him charming and funny. It was getting easier to laugh the longer she stayed. It wasn’t until she’d really thought about it that she realized how little she’d laughed in recent months. After Quincy left, she and Jackson had decided it was time to get some rest.

  By the time she made it up the stairs and into bed, every muscle screamed. It’d been a while since she’d worked that hard, but as much as she hurt, she also felt good. Not once had she thought about her own problems. Getting that fence done made her feel accomplished, and she’d enjoyed being part of the reason Jackson smiled.

  For some weird reason, it sent a thrill through her. She’d even found herself enjoying being teased by him. But that wasn’t a thought she could entertain. She might not be a full-fledged widow, but that didn’t mean she didn’t feel like one. A relationship wasn’t on the horizon for her. At least, not for a long time.

  Grace hadn’t expected his reaction when she made clear why she was there. His lips had twisted, and she knew she’d unintentionally hurt him. They just needed to be clear on the end goal. Besides, the house was what mattered, nothing else. It was why she’d made sure to put the brakes on so that neither of them got caught up in anything. As long as they knew the rules and set some boundaries, everything would work out fine. She didn’t know why those rules felt like a nasty pinch all of a sudden.

  “Grace?”

  She jumped and whirled around. “Oh, good grief, you scared me!”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I thought I was the only one up.”

  Placing the flat of her hand against her chest, she let out a slow breath. “It’s okay.”

  “How long have you been working?” Jackson asked. He’d put on a short-sleeved button-up and jeans, and Grace was tongue-tied. He sure could work the checkered look.

  She grinned. “Uh, a while.”

  “What’s a while?”

  “Since about four?”

  He crossed the dining room and stopped in front of her. “How did you get that much wallpaper off in two hours?”

  “Are you kidding? I’m a designer. This was one of the first things I learned.”

  “It took me a week to get off what little I did. I was so tired of it that I’d decided I was going to paint over it,” he said as his gaze roamed over the room.

  She ran her hand along the wall. “I saw you’d started it and figured this is where we should begin. We take a room at a time, get it paint-ready, and move to the next.” She brought her gaze back to his. “This plaster isn’t that old, and it’s in decent shape. I was surprised, to be honest. Most of the time in these old houses, the wallpaper is hiding a huge problem, but by the looks of it, it’s not more than fifteen years old.”

  “It’s not. My grandmother wanted this room redone, and my grandfather had it done for her birthday, two years before she had her heart attack. He took her to San Antonio for the week, and Uncle Quincy and I stayed here to oversee the workers.”

  Grace shot him a wide smile. “How sweet.”

  “He taught me a lot.”

  “I bet he did.”

  Jackson rubbed his chin and said, “I was going to get breakfast and then let the horses out. I can help right after.”

  Her stomach rumbled. “Uh, breakfast sounds terrific, and would it be okay if I helped with the horses?”

  His smile was like a heated blanket, and a warmth spread through her. She mentally shook herself. There couldn’t be thoughts like that. Yes, the man was breathtakingly gorgeous. And yes, the shirt sleeves showed off his huge biceps and the jeans fit—oh, they fit so well—but she was there for the house. Only the house.

  “I’ll take all the help I can get, but just warning you, Gulliver takes a while to warm up to people. If something happens and he gets loose, keep your distance.

  “Okay, I can do that.”

  “You okay with some cereal for breakfast?”

  “Sure. The quicker we eat, the quicker we can get to work.” She followed Jackson to the kitchen. It had been previously updated, but whoever had done it didn’t do a good job. They modernized without making it cohesive with the rest of the home.

  Once they each poured themselves a bowl, they sat at the small kitchen table and ate. Halfway through, Jackson put his spoon down and sat back in his seat.

  “Are you always so driven?” he asked.

  Another of her less-than-desirable qualities. When she got set on something, she didn’t stop until it was done. “Unfortunately. It’s one of my many not-so-great quirks. If haven’t you noticed, I pace too.”

  “I’m not disparaging whoever told you that, but I will voice my disagreement again.”

  She laughed. Bret hated when she got like that. All in, no holds barred, pedal to the medal until the last detail was in place. It was just how she was wired. To be told it wasn’t such a bad trait made her feel good. “You don’t have to say that. I know I can be too intense.”

  “I’m not just saying that. I’ve never seen anyone put their heart and soul into something like you do. When you said you’d help me, I didn’t expect…” he waved his hand at her, “…you.”

  The compliment sent a tingle through her. Why hadn’t Bret liked that about her? She’d liked all his quirks. Well, not liked, but she hadn’t complained that he liked funny-smelling supplement shakes or that he didn’t rinse the beard stubble in the sink or that he’d leave his gym bag in her laundry room and forget it.

  She smiled and shrugged. “The farm means something to you, and I want to help. Plus, being here, I don’t feel so weighed down. I have something that needs me. I haven’t felt that in a while.”

  With a small nod, he smiled and began eating again. If this was how things were going to be, the next three months would be a cakewalk. It was so easy to talk to him. Things just poured out of her when he asked a question. It didn’t feel as though he was judging everything that came out of her mouth, either.

  When they finished eating, they went out to the barn to let the horses out. Gulliver, the stallion Jackson had talked about, was stunning. Apparently, he was a Friesian, and Jackson had found him in a kill pen somewhere south. She couldn’t imagine that beautiful animal on the verge of being killed. His coat was so black and shiny that it almost looked purple. That snippet of information had eased Jackson several notches up on her good-guys list.

  She could see why the horse needed more work. That guy was full of spirit. He pranced around for them before galloping off. Guests would love him for sure, but unless he calmed down a whole lot, no one would be taking him trail riding.

  After they finished with the horses, they returned to the house and worked on getting the rest of the wallpaper down. Most of the time, they worked in silence. Grace was surprised by how well-oiled it felt. It was as though they’d been working together for years. He’d go right, and she’d instinctively go left.

  When lunchtime rolled around, they’d stripped half the wallpaper off. Grace’s fingers were so sore that she was wishing bad things on the person who invented the stuff. Whoever had installed that wallpaper had meant for it to stick around, but they hadn’t known Grace. She was more stubborn than the wallpaper.

  As Grace stood back, she took in what would soon be a blank canvas
, trying to gauge what would be both appealing and modern and yet fitting with the style of the home. What would make eating in that room the most appealing? She could see wedding parties and receptions being held in it. “I think something midrange in color would work in here because of all the windows. All this light gives you so many options. What are you thinking?”

  She turned and found Jackson watching her. “What?” she asked.

  “It’s interesting to watch you work.”

  “What?”

  He shot her a grin. “You heard me.”

  She waved him off. “Stop. What color are you thinking?”

  “I’m not the designer. You are. You pick the color.”

  “You own the home.”

  Jackson shrugged. “I know, but I have at my disposal a talented designer. Why would I not take advantage of that?”

  Her face burned like fire. She palmed her cheek and ignored the sweet compliment. “Where do we need to go to get paint samples?”

  “There’s a town about forty-five minutes from here. It has a small hardware store. They’ll even order stuff if we need it.”

  She drummed her fingers on her lips. “Well, I say we figure out what we want for each room and make one trip. That way we’re not running back and forth. That’s a time-waster right there, and we definitely don’t have time to waste.”

  “I can get on board with that. Like I said, though, I’ll defer to you on the design stuff. I don’t mind giving input, but I think you should have the final say since you’re skilled in this.”

  The first time he said it, it caught her off guard. This time she wondered what made him think that. “How do you know I’m skilled? You haven’t seen any of my designs.”

  Jackson’s eyebrows shot up. “Yes, I have. I googled you last night.”

  “You did? How did you get good enough reception for that?”

  He chuckled. “I have a signal booster in my room. And yes, I did google you. A show from Abilene popped up. You did a good job on that house. You’re talented, and I liked your style. Most designers I’ve seen go too overboard, but yours was soft and simple.”

  Grace’s pulse jumped. He liked her design style, and he thought she was talented. And it didn’t feel like he was just being nice. The way he said it, the conviction in his voice, sounded as though he had confidence in her, and it felt good. “Thank you. Most don’t appreciate it because I don’t like rooms feeling crowded with knick-knacks and such.”