The Faithful One: Billionaire Bride Pact Romance

by Checketts, Cami

  “Yes, thank you.” The excuse that he didn’t know it was a swinging door would just make him look stupid. They’d know he’d been leaning against the door to try to eavesdrop.

  Trin’s eyes twinkled with humor as she studied him. “Decided to shave, Za—Jason?”

  She knew. Why didn’t she confront him? He was going to play along and make her be the one to say something. “Yeah,” was the intelligent response he came up with.

  “It looks very nice.” Trin pressed the dough to the floured counter and rolled it out with a wood rolling pin.

  “Nice?” Moriah muttered. “The man is smoking hot.”

  Zander was sure he was blushing again. He didn’t know what to do now. Should he make some kind of exit or could he find an excuse to hang out with the two of them? Today was a rest day and though he usually lifted weights on rest days, he hadn’t found a gym yet. He didn’t need to do any official training until tomorrow. He could go explore Montgomery, but that wasn’t much fun by himself. He was still struggling a little bit with being back in the area where his mom was killed. He’d avoided most of the southern states, particularly Alabama for the past ten years because of the memories. The last thing he needed was a relapse into alcoholism. His dad had been so patient with him. Zander knew soon he’d need to step up and start learning how to oversee his father’s businesses, but for now he appreciated that he could focus on his training and the escape that was for him from the bitter memories of losing his mom and being responsible for her death. One day at a time. Getting ahead of himself or trying to do more than he should always made him thirsty for something he shouldn’t have.

  “Moriah,” Trin chastised out of the side of her mouth. “Can we help you with something, sir?” she directed toward Zander.

  “I, um.” How could he tell her he wanted to be near her, and not just because his dad had asked him to do the Undercover Boss imitation. “Can I help you?”

  Both women’s heads flew up from focusing on their bread dough. Moriah particularly was eyeing him like he was a few marbles short. Trin looked to be fighting a smile.

  “You’re a guest,” Trin said. “We don’t ask our guests to help us work.”

  “But I’ve always wanted to learn how to make … whatever you’re making.” Smooth Zander, real smooth.

  Trin laughed at him. She actually laughed at him. It started as a low chuckle then rumbled up into a full-blown laugh. Moriah stared at Trin for half a second then she started to giggle too. Zander tried to hold it in, but their laughter was infectious. One second he was embarrassed because he’d asked to help and they were making fun of them, the next he was full-on laughing with them.

  “Sorry,” Trin finally managed to say, “it just struck me as funny that you want to learn, even though you have no clue what we’re making.”

  “It was my lame way of asking if I can hang out with you,” Zander admitted.

  “Yeah?” Trin cocked her head to the side and gave him the cutest smile. It completely lit up her face. Man, she was a beauty.

  “Yeah.”

  “I think he meant me,” Moriah inserted, winking brazenly at him, then starting to chuckle again.

  “Um, yeah, both of you.” Zander was fumbling for words in a way he never had before. He’d been trained well throughout his life how to react professionally and in a manner befitting his station. His mom and dad had loved him unconditionally, but they’d also prepared him for his place in life.

  “Don’t lie to the momma,” Moriah said and Trin started laughing again.

  “You’re a mother?” She looked much too young to be a mom. Her dark hair was in long cornrows down her back and her skin was smooth with almost rounded cheeks like a young girl.

  “That’s right. Got me the cutest little boy on the planet. He stays with my momma while I work.”

  “Congrats. How old is he?”

  “Two. Chubby cheeks like you wouldn’t believe.” Moriah grinned proudly. “Ooh, just to squish him makes my day.”

  Zander nodded, not sure what the proper response to the momma should be. He wondered what had happened to the boy’s father, but it wasn’t his place to ask.

  Trin threw him a lump of dough. He caught it on instinct. “Come over here and I’ll teach you how to roll them out.” She glanced askew at him. “We’re making cinnamon rolls for breakfast.”

  “Shouldn’t I wash my hands or something?” he asked.

  “Aren’t your hands clean?”

  “Well, yes, I washed them recently, but I was thinking like food handler’s permits and stuff like that.”

  “We won’t be using your dough for the guests. We’ll let you eat your own creation.”

  “Oh, gotcha.” Zander had never been such a mess around a woman. She was teasing him and having a great time at it and he was playing right into her hands.

  Trin cleared him a spot on the floured surface and handed him a rolling pin. “Roll it nice and smooth.”

  Zander tried to obey but the dough put up a fight. “Do you usually make your breads the day before?”

  “Depends on how ambitious we are. Something like cinnamon rolls takes a while so we don’t really want to wake up at three a.m.”

  “Makes sense. So, what’s the hardest thing about running a bed and breakfast?”

  Trin gave him that appraising look again. She definitely knew who he was. Dangit. He’d been hoping to stay incognito for a little while longer.

  “You a reporter?” Moriah asked.

  Trin chuckled and Zander couldn’t help but laugh too. “No. I just, um, like to learn about the places I’m staying.” Yes, complete fail.

  “Makes sense. The hardest thing?” Moriah pursed her lips. “I’d say dealing with customers who don’t think nothin’ is good enough,” Moriah answered for the two of them. Her dough was smooth and she was spreading what looked like melted butter over it. “I mean, look at how gorgeous this place is and how blessed we all are to be here. It riles me when they complain.”

  “Do you have that happen often?” Moriah seemed to have a positive attitude even when complaining.

  “No,” Trin said quickly. “For the most part people are enchanted with the house and nobody can resist Moriah’s cooking.”

  “That’s right, sista. Especially my biscuits and gravy.” Moriah did a little booty shake and Zander quickly looked away.

  “How long will you be gracing us with your presence, Mr. Hunley?” Moriah asked.

  “Jason, please. I’ll be staying a few weeks.”

  Moriah’s eyes widened and she whistled low. “Guess you’ll get a chance to sample my gravy and possibly some of our other wares.” She pumped her eyebrows at Trin.

  Trin scowled back at her. “Honestly, Moriah. You’re too much.”

  Zander smiled and tried to roll his dough flat. He wouldn’t mind sampling some of Trin’s wares if that’s what Moriah was indicating. Since drying up, he hadn’t dated often. A few women he’d met in the triathlon circuit were fun to grab dinner with or maybe even share a kiss, but he never went farther than that. He wasn’t sure why, but he felt like he needed to figure himself out before he let himself fall for a woman. Sometimes he could swear he felt his mom’s influence from heaven. He knew he wouldn’t have been able to overcome the alcohol without his guardian angel. Sometimes faith was hard, but a lot of times it was all he had.

  “I’ll show you too much.” Moriah picked up a dish towel and snapped it at Trin.

  “Stop!” Trin cried out, holding out a hand to ward her off.

  Zander watched them interact and couldn’t ignore the rush of jealousy. When he was a boy, he’d loved to hang out in the kitchen with their cook, Hannah. She’d spoiled him with treats and love, but if he ever did anything slightly inappropriate, especially as a teenager when he had a smart-aleck mouth on him and thought it was funny to cuss and shock people, she’d snap him with a dishtowel. It stung. His thoughts pulled around to his mom as they often did. She’d never snapped at him with anythin
g. Even when he’d said curse words, she’d just kindly ask him to please stop. Nothing ever riled that woman and no matter how horrible he acted she thought he was the “best boy”. He didn’t know if it was a psychological thing she’d done with him or just her natural sweetness. He poked at his still lumpy dough. It didn’t matter now.

  “It’s not getting any flatter doing that.” Trin was right next to him.

  Zander took a long inhale. She smelled like cinnamon and sugar. He didn’t think it was some high-dollar perfume, just her. Sweet and spicy. He liked it.

  “Can you help me?” He said in a breathless voice. He knew women loved his deep, husky voice, but he wasn’t trying to reel Trin in, she honestly made his voice go all deep and breathy. If it reeled her in, he wouldn’t complain.

  “Sure.” She slid in closer to his side and placed her hands over his on the rolling pin.

  Zander smiled to himself. Her slightly calloused hands were still soft and womanly. She could touch him like that all day long.

  “The trick is to put some muscle into it.” She pressed down on his hands and guided the rolling pin along the dough.

  “Oh? I can do that.” He inched a little bit closer.

  She gave a little sigh and her lips parted. Zander’s tongue darted out over his own lips.

  “I should hope so with all those muscles,” Moriah drawled out.

  Zander’s head popped up in surprise. He’d forgotten he and Trin weren’t alone.

  Moriah giggled. “Don’t mind me. Just making some cinnamon rolls over here.”

  “So are we,” Trin shot back.

  “Whatever helps you sleep at night, girl.”

  Zander laughed. “You two are like sisters.”

  “Do you have any sisters?” Trin asked, glancing up at him from beneath thick eyelashes.

  “Only child.” He kept rolling the dough with Trin’s hands over his, ignoring the look the two girls shared.

  The dough got flat much too quickly and Trin stepped away from him. He felt the loss immediately. Was there anything else he could think to have her teach him? Something that was hands on. He grinned.

  “Now we spread some melted butter on it.” Trin whirled away, put a cube of butter in a measuring cup and stuck it in the microwave.

  Zander leaned against the counter and watched her. Her legs were long and extremely well-formed. “Did you play a sport in college?”

  She whipped around. “Why do you ask?”

  He couldn’t very well tell her because he was checking out her legs. “I remember hearing that most students at Huntingdon are athletes.”

  “That’s true. Yeah, I played tennis.”

  “Do you still play?”

  “I’ve been known to.”

  “Maybe we could have a match. My mom taught me to play a pretty mean game.” He hurt at the mention of his mom, even from his own lips, but he kept hoping if he could talk about her casually, some year he might heal from missing her.

  “You’re on.” Trin smirked at him as she returned and spread the butter over his slab of dough.

  Zander simply watched her work, liking the smooth muscles in her arms as she moved.

  “Now cinnamon and sugar.” She produced a shaker and handed it to him.

  Zander sprinkled it generously over the dough. “Since this dough is unsanitary, I get to eat all of the cinnamon rolls?”

  “What happened to ‘I try not to eat sugar’ big boy?” Trin teased him.

  Moriah laughed. She’d finished her rolls, all perfectly lined up in a pan, and carefully covered them with a clean, white cloth.

  “True. You are a bad influence on me. My stomach hurt this afternoon.”

  She arched her eyebrows. “From half a cookie? Maybe you needed a nudge to the wild side.”

  “Eating sugar is wild?” Moriah shook her head. “You two’s idea of a party is probably ginger ale and snickerdoodles.”

  “If they’re your snickerdoodles.” Zander wondered if they knew who he really was, did they also know about his struggle with alcohol? He wouldn’t think Moriah would deliberately tease about something so sensitive so maybe she didn’t know.

  “I’m liking him better and better,” Moriah said to Trin.

  Zander grinned.

  “If you’re okay to bake these, I’m going to head out,” Moriah continued, taking off her apron and folding it. “I’ll be back at five-thirty to start breakfast.”

  “Thank you.” Trin gave the girl a brief hug. “See you bright and early.”

  “Bye,” Moriah said to Zander.

  He raised a hand in farewell. She whistled her way out the back door. Zander felt the suddenness of being alone with Trin. He wouldn’t complain about it for a second. She glanced shyly up at him then said, “Okay. Now we need to roll them up.”

  She started at one end and rolled the dough over itself then gestured to him. “It’s pretty simple. Do you want to finish it?”

  “Sure.” He took over and rolled it into a log.

  Trin pinched off the edges then demonstrated how to cut the rolls with dental floss and stack them on a cookie sheet.

  The silence wasn’t awkward, but Zander felt a need to ask, “Does Moriah always work twelve hour days?”

  “I try to get her out of here earlier when I can. She’s a hard worker and she needs the money.” She didn’t look at him as she finished lifting rolls onto a cookie sheet and covered them with a thin white towel. She pulled a clean rag from the drawer, got it wet, and started wiping off the counters. “I was going to hire some more help a little bit ago. Moriah does most of the cooking and the housekeeping by herself. I try to help out as much as I can, but sometimes the management responsibilities get crazy.” She finished wiping down the counter and turned to face him. “She begged me to let her have the extra hours. It makes me sad she’s missing out on time with Turk, but how do I not allow her the chance to provide for herself and her son?”

  Zander leaned against the counter. “Where’s the father?”

  “Who knows? She’s definitely not getting any child support.”

  Zander pursed his lips. “Sad.”

  “You’d think so, but she comes in here happy as Pollyanna every day.” Trin rinsed out the rag and squeezed the excess water out.

  “Pollyanna?”

  “You never saw Pollyanna?”

  “Can’t say that I’ve had the pleasure.”

  Trin laughed. “I don’t know that you’d think it was pleasure. It’s pretty cheesy, but Pollyanna’s parents die and she has to go live with her very stern aunt.” Trin pulled a face. “But she always finds something to be positive about and plays some glad game to remember to find the silver lining.”

  Zander froze as she talked. An orphan who found the silver lining? That definitely wasn’t him.

  “Like I said.” Trin twisted the dishrag between her fingers. “You’d probably think it was cheesy, but Moriah is like that. Always happy. Always laughing and making things fun, even though I know she aches to be with her baby boy and wishes she didn’t have to work such long hours to provide for him.”

  Zander swallowed and grasped for something to say. “Pretty cool that she’s willing to work like that. A lot of single moms would probably look for government help or something.”

  Trin flinched. “Just because people aren’t wealthy doesn’t mean they’re lazy. Usually the exact opposite is true.”

  Zander felt like it was a personal attack on him. He was wealthy and honestly, pretty lazy. Sure he trained hard for his events, but he didn’t do any work that would be considered productive. He’d come up with the ideas for the products for his companies, but he’d paid different teams to invent each one and he had a manager who oversaw everything. Zander didn’t have much involvement. The thought of scraping to make ends meet while being a single parent was completely foreign to him.

  He looked straight into Trin’s deep brown eyes and he read censure there and a little bit of pity. Taking a step back, he said, “Lik
e I said. Moriah is an impressive girl.”

  Trin sighed and her shoulders sagged. She sat the rag next to the sink. “She’s had to grow up quick. Wish I could do more for her, but besides giving her the best pay I reasonably can while still staying within my employee budget, I don’t really have any way to change her situation.” Trin suddenly looked tired and older.

  Zander kept wondering if this was a real Undercover Boss what he would and could do to help these people. Buy Trin this house back and let her succeed on her own, have Moriah focus on the cooking and baking, hire someone else to clean, and give Moriah a raise so she could work reasonable hours? He had no clue about Marcus as he didn’t really know the guy’s story or if he needed help. Maybe he could approach his dad with some ideas. Hopefully he was wrong about his dad planning to sell.

  “How old are you?” he asked Trin.

  She straightened up and eyed him warily. “Twenty-four. Why?”

  “I, um, just interested.” Interested in her age or in her? He needed to go for a run or something. Yes, it was a rest day, but sometimes he needed extra movement to help him not want to find the closest convenience store and a nice cold, beer. He could almost feel the cool liquid sliding down his throat. “I’m going to go run around and explore the neighborhood.” He had no idea why he thought he had to explain himself to her. That wasn’t something he ever did with anybody.

  “Have fun. It’s beautiful with all the restored homes.”

  Zander nodded and walked away, knowing she was watching. As he ascended the stairs he felt sad that their interaction had gone from fun and playful to almost sad in such a short time. He hoped he could restore the fun, but he quickly realized how important it was for him to understand their situations. Maybe that was the exact reason his dad had sent him here. He hoped his dad wasn’t trying to teach him some humility lesson, but that wasn’t really his parenting style. Zander actually felt pretty grateful for this opportunity to look outside himself. It might prove to be as therapeutic as the Tranquility Woods Rehab Center.

  Chapter 4

  Chapter

  Trin woke the next morning feeling groggy and like she might be in the Twilight Zone. She’d stayed up late mulling over everything Zander had said and every look he’d given her. Had she really put her hands over Zander Keller’s and helped him make cinnamon rolls? It was too surreal. He was a billionaire heartthrob and she was an average girl who ran a bed and breakfast.