The Backdoor Billionaire's Bride

by Roz Lee

  The day one of their new employees totaled his car on the way to work and Ford went to the hospital to check on the man, she heard about it. And when he paid the deductible on the man’s car insurance so he could get a new car, she heard about it.

  There wasn’t much Ford did she didn’t know about. He was a caring and generous employer, and he cared about Butte Plains, too. Someone had paid to rebuild the broken-down gazebo in the square, and it sure as heck hadn’t been the city council. No, the money had come from Ford Adams. Word had it he walked into City Hall one day and handed the mayor a check—told the man to fix the gazebo and anything else in need of repair. He’d said Adams Manufacturing had a reputation to uphold, and he couldn’t do it if his clients saw a rundown town when they came to visit. Everyone knew most visitors to the plant never went past the town square or drove downtown to see the newly repaired antique streetlights or the fresh-as-a-daisy floral baskets hanging from them. Ford had done what he’d done for the people of Butte Plains. He cared. Deeply.

  It’s why she loved him—not because of the way he made her feel when they made love. Feeling loved and cherished was just a nice bonus.

  Becky returned to the booth to find Ford had taken a potential client to lunch, leaving the booth in the capable hands of the staff they’d brought along. She had just finished going over the schedule for the rest of the day when her brother arrived. Colin might not think he’d made it yet, but judging from the reaction of the young women in her employ when she introduced him, he’d already made it big. He stood signing autographs for them and the crowd that had gathered, when the last person on earth Becky wanted to see approached the booth.

  Determined to be nice even if it killed her, she plastered a smile on her face and greeted the woman. “Veronica. I didn’t know you were in Vegas.”

  The witch smiled and tugged a man forward. Becky supposed he might be handsome, but not like Ford. Jiminy, when had she started comparing every man she met to her partner?

  “Becky Jean Parker, this is Carter Hargraves. He’s the—”

  “I know who he is.” An icy shiver ran down her spine. What in heaven’s name was Veronica doing with the CEO of Toy Haven? And why would she bring him over to introduce him?

  Though warning bells rang in her brain making it difficult hear, she tried her best to be civil. Becky extended her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Hargraves.”

  “Can we go somewhere to talk?” he said, taking her hand.

  The bells clanged louder. “About?”

  “Mr. Hargraves is interested in purchasing your share of Adams Manufacturing,” Veronica said.

  Becky removed her hand from the man’s grasp and turned her attention to the woman beside him. She couldn’t have heard correctly. “What?”

  “Surely you know Ford is going to sell. Then what will you do? Carter wants your 25 percent, too.”

  A giant pit opened up inside her, her heart teetering on the edge. “Wait. Are you telling me Ford has agreed to sell to you?”

  “Of course he did.” Veronica laughed. “You didn’t think he would stay in Butt F— Butte Plains forever, did you?”

  The brakes on her personal roller coaster car failed. Her heart lurched over the crest and fell all the way to her toes.

  “His home is in New York. With me.” She delivered the last two words with a deadly smile.

  Becky took a step back, right into her brother. “Hey, Sis. Ready to go?”

  “Uh.”

  “Carter Hargraves,” the man said. “We saw your concert last night. You’re good.”

  “Thanks,” Colin said. “Colin Parker.” He leaned around her to shake hands with the woman who had just eviscerated her.

  “Veronica Ramsey,” she said, her voice dripping with syrup. “You and Becky Jean…?”

  “Siblings,” her brother said. “She never stops reminding me who’s older.”

  “Listen,” Hargraves said. “We were just going to invite your sister to lunch. Why don’t you join us?”

  A heartbeat later, Becky sat at a table in a swanky Italian restaurant with her celebrity brother and the two people in the world she wished she’d never met. How she’d gotten there, she didn’t know. How she would get out without causing a scene, she didn’t care. Maybe she could excuse herself to the bathroom and find a back exit. She had her purse. She could call a cab, go straight to the airport and catch a flight to Dallas. Judging from the looks the witch exchanged with her brother, she’d be home before anyone missed her.

  A good big sister would warn Colin about Veronica, but she had to admit, she was grateful for deflecting the woman’s attention away from her. If he could keep it up, perhaps the conversation she dreaded would never take place.

  Attentive waiters came and went, delivering wine, bread, and plates of food she didn’t recall ordering. It was as if she looked through a mirror, observing an alternate universe where another version of herself resided. This other Becky smiled and spoke when spoken to. She even ate a few bites when real Becky’s stomach felt like a lead ball. She heard Hargrave’s offer, but couldn’t process it. The dollar amount sounded ridiculous to someone who still emptied her coin purse into a jar every evening.

  Less than a year ago, the cost of this meal alone would have bankrupted her. That she could afford it, and more, staggered her. As she mentally tallied the changes in her life, she knew one thing for certain, none of it meant anything if she didn’t have Ford.

  Other Becky said, “Ford agreed to sell?”

  “He will. He’s holding out for a better price,” Veronica said. “It’s all about the money with him. Always has been.”

  Funny. Since she’d gotten to know Ford, she’d come to the conclusion the money didn’t matter that much to him. He enjoyed his work. Enjoyed being compensated for it, but even when he’d thought the failing plant might eat up everything he had, he hadn’t seemed particularly bereft. In fact, he’d seen his predicament as a challenge—one he’d risen to, conquered. Just as he’d conquered her heart.

  “I don’t have an answer for you today, Mr. Hargraves. I hadn’t planned to sell. I need time to think about your offer.”

  “You won’t get a better offer,” Veronica stated. Her words were as flat as the line of her lips.

  Why did it matter so much to her if Becky sold? It was Ford she wanted, Ford she needed to convince to sell. The proverbial lightbulb flicked on in her head. She knew exactly what Veronica planned. You lying bitch. Real Becky straightened her spine. “I’ve got to go.” She cocked her head at her brother then reached for her purse. Colin stood and held her chair for her to rise. Star or not, he had the manners of a Southern gentleman.

  “Take my card.” Carter reached into his jacket pocket. “Call me when you’ve made your decision.”

  Ignoring the card he held out, she said, “That won’t be necessary. I’ve made my decision. I’m not selling. Not unless Ford is.”

  The shock on Veronica’s face told her everything she needed to know. Ford hadn’t agreed to sell. They were hoping Becky would sign on the dotted line, and they could use her share as leverage to convince her partner to do the same. “Thanks for lunch,” she said, knowing full well the bill had not yet arrived.

  “What was that all about?” Colin asked as soon as they hit the sidewalk.

  “You just witnessed Veronica Ramsey at her best.” Wanting to put as much distance between her and the wicked witch of the east, she walked at a brisk pace. “As far as I can tell, no one has ever told her no. It’s about time she learned the world doesn’t revolve around her.”

  “I don’t know. She seemed nice enough.”

  Becky stopped so suddenly the guy walking behind her had to take evasive measures to avoid knocking her over. “What? Are you insane?” She fisted her hands on her hips and glared at her brother whose familiar smile goaded her on. “Do. Not. Get. Involved. With that witch, Colin Parker. She’s bad news. Spoiled. Entitled. She wants Ford!”

  “And she can’t
have him. I get it, Becks.”

  “He’s mine.”

  Colin’s smile widened. “Yes, he is.”

  For the longest time, she stared at her brother. Then his words sank in. Her words sank in. She groaned and leaned against the nearest light pole.

  “You should tell him, Becks.”

  “I know.” She shifted her gaze to the flashing marquee on the casino down the street. “What if she’s right and he does want to go back to New York?”

  Colin shrugged. “I’ve been there. It’s not so bad. It ain’t Texas, but nothing is.”

  “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.” She’d go anywhere Ford wanted to go, even New York. “What if he wants to go back to her?” She used her thumb to gesture back to the restaurant they’d just left.

  “Maybe he just needs a reason to stay.” He cocked one eyebrow at her.

  She nodded, and for the first time since Veronica had shown up at their booth, her smile came easy. “Maybe he does.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  “She did what?”

  “Ms. Parker went to lunch,” the nervous intern repeated.

  “With Veronica Ramsey and Carter Hargraves?” he clarified, just in case he’d lost his mind and imagined his business partner—the woman he loved and wanted to spend the rest of his life with—had gone off to discuss selling part of their company to a man who didn’t give a shit about his family’s legacy, much less the people in Butte Plains.

  “And Colin Parker,” another intern added with a dreamy sigh. “I didn’t know Ms. Parker and Colin Parker were related.”

  Ford growled. Both women took a step back, and Ford gave himself a mental shake. He couldn’t blame them, they were just the messengers. He made a conscious effort to school his features into something civilized. Becky Jean would skin him alive if he scared off their help, and they had to man this booth for the rest of the week by themselves. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have spoken to you the way I did. I’m just surprised, that’s all.”

  “You didn’t know Colin Parker was her brother either?” the ditsier one asked.

  Ford grabbed control of his temper with both hands. “Yes, I knew he was her brother. I even knew she planned to have lunch with him today. I didn’t know about Ms. Ramsey and the other guy.”

  “That was all of a sudden, I think,” the more reasonable one said. Ashley? Or is her name Amy?

  “What makes you think so?”

  Ashley/Amy shrugged. “I don’t know. Colin was here then Ms. Ramsey walked up. Everyone else was all, you know”—she made a whirly gesture near her temple—“over Colin, so I don’t think they noticed the way Ms. Parker spoke to her. I don’t know why exactly, but it didn’t seem like a friendly conversation.”

  Knowing she hadn’t had a pleasant conversation with those two helped ease the knot in his gut somewhat. “You weren’t impressed by Colin?” he asked, giving her what he hoped appeared to be a friendly smile.

  She shook her head. “Oh, no, sir. He’s cute and all, but I have a boyfriend back home. Seth is much better looking, and he can sing, too. His band plays every weekend down at the Roadhouse.”

  The other girl standing behind Ashley/Amy rolled her eyes. Ford resisted the urge to laugh outright. “Seth lives in Butte Plains?”

  “He has a place over on Cotton Street.”

  Ford nodded. As he recalled, nothing but rundown apartments lined Cotton. “Next time Colin is in town, maybe we could get them together. He might be able to help Seth. That is, if your boyfriend is serious about the music business.”

  Her face lit up like a Christmas tree, and she jumped and clapped her hands. “You’d do that? You’re awesome, Mr. Adams!” Then she launched herself at him.

  He was trying to extricate himself from her bear hug when a familiar voice did the trick for him. “Amy, how many times do I have to tell you to keep your hands off the boss?”

  Amy catapulted away, muttering apologies all around.

  “Amy,” he said. “Ms. Parker is just kidding.” He turned to Becky Jean. “Aren’t you?”

  “Of course I am, but let’s keep the public displays of affection down to a minimum. That’s not the reputation Adams Manufacturing wants to project to the public.”

  So, she did care about the company. He only hoped she cared enough not to sell her share, but if she really wanted out, he’d buy her out himself. Adams Manufacturing had always been a family business. Family should own it.

  “It won’t happen again, will it, Amy?” He winked at the young lady and she nodded.

  “No, sir. Thank you, Mr. Adams,” she said. “I can’t wait to tell Seth what you said.”

  Becky Jean’s head swiveled between the two of them as if she couldn’t decide if she really wanted to know what he’d told the girl or not.

  “Glad to help.” He’d had enough small talk. He and Becky Jean were overdue for a long discussion. He reached for her hand. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, Ms. Parker and I have some business to discuss.”

  “Call me if you have any problems,” Becky Jean said over her shoulder as he dragged her away from the booth.

  He would have preferred more privacy for what he wanted to say to her, but the curtained-off storage area in the back corner of the convention hall would do.

  “What’s this about, Ford?” she asked as he pulled her through a gap in the black drapes.

  He came to a stop and spun around to face her. The color he’d noticed on her cheeks when she arrived at the booth had deepened. Images of all the places he’d seen that particular shade of pink on her body flashed through his brain like a brush fire, igniting a matching one inside him. Where have you been all my life?

  “What?”

  “I didn’t— Oh. I said that out loud?”

  She nodded, studying him as if he’d grown two heads or something. “Are you okay, Ford?”

  He chuckled. He’d envisioned this conversation going a lot smoother. He didn’t have a clue what he should say next. If he told her he loved her and asked her to marry him, would she think he just wanted to keep her from selling? And if he asked her if she planned to sell, would she think he cared more about the company than he did her? Either way, he was screwed.

  “There’s something I want—no, need to say to you, but I just figured out there’s no good way to say it.”

  “Oh. My. God!” Her eyes swam with tears. “You are going to sell! That bitch was right!”

  “No!” When she tried to jerk her hand out of his, he held on tight. “No, Becks.” He got down in her line of sight and shook his head. “No. I told you. I’m not selling Adams Manufacturing. Not now, not ever.”

  His declaration seemed to calm her a bit, but the edge of the woods had never looked farther away. He swallowed hard and said the last thing he wanted to say. “But I understand if you want to sell your 25 percent. It’s worth a lot of money. You’d be set for life, you and your mother. You could go anywhere, do anything you wanted, and never worry about money ever again.” He squeezed her fingers, hoping she’d hear what he wasn’t saying in the words he was saying. “Adams Manufacturing has always been a family-owned business.”

  She sniffed and wiped her cheeks with the fingers of her free hand. “I understand. You want to buy me out.” The finality in her statement wrecked him. He’d done a shit-poor job of showing her what she meant to him.

  “No. You don’t understand at all. I don’t want to buy you out.” He had to get this right. Holding onto her hand so she couldn’t bolt, he dropped to one knee. “I want to marry you. Becky Jean Parker, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife—my partner in life and in business—for as long as we both shall live?”

  Maybe he’d laid it on thick, but he wanted her to know he understood exactly what he’d asked her to do. He’d never thought he’d marry. Never wanted to—until Becky Jean showed him what love was. His knee protested to being on the concrete, but he’d get down on both knees and beg if he had to.

  “You don’t h
ave to marry me, Ford. I’ll sell—”

  He couldn’t listen to another word about selling. Not today. “No. I don’t want your share of the company, Becks. I want you. Just you. Say you’ll marry me. Please, I don’t know—”

  “Shh.” She shushed him with a finger against his lips. “Why? If you don’t want the company, then why?”

  It dawned on him then. He’d forgotten the most important thing. Shit!

  “Ford Adams!” She tried to get away, but he held fast.

  “Didn’t mean to say that out loud,” he said. He shook his head. “I’m making a mess of this, Becks.” He stood and took both her hands in his. Closing the distance between them, he rested his forehead against hers. Their gazes met and held.

  “I should have led with I love you. I do. Love you, I mean. More than anything. You make me want to be a better person, Becky Jean. I see you and the love you have for other people, and I can’t help but want some of your love for myself. I love you. I want to have you by my side, as my wife, my lover, and my partner for the rest of our lives. I won’t give up Adams Manufacturing, but I can’t run it without you. You are Adams Manufacturing. The only thing you’re missing is the name.”

  He ducked his head and brushed his lips over hers. “Please, say you’ll be my wife.”

  Laughter—joy—bubbled up within her and came out as a hiccup. She’d always dreamed of finding a man to love her, one who respected her as an equal. She could hardly believe her ears, but that kiss. It had been so sweet and showed a vulnerability she’d never seen in Ford before, except maybe on the first day when he’d just buried his father then discovered his family legacy had become a concrete block tied around his ankles. She’d fallen in love with him then—or maybe it had been later, when he’d brought her a pocket sandwich and she’d seen the dismay in his eyes at what had happened to his hometown.

  She’d known then his emotions ran deep. He cared, even if he told himself he didn’t.