Bear had told Winnie about their family friends, the Fredericks, and how they spent their holidays with the Wests. This had to be Gabby’s sister.
Winnie shook her hand, but her mind was a whirl from the kiss. “Uh, nice to meet you.”
Stephanie looked from Winnie to Bear. “I’ll just find my room.” She giggled and walked down the hall, disappearing behind a door with her suitcase.
When Winnie returned her gaze to Bear’s, his eyes were darker than normal. If there was ever a storm in someone’s eyes, it was in his. Should she apologize for tempting him by kissing him on the cheek? Because she didn’t feel sorry at all. The more rational part of her brain said she should be, but her lips were singing a different song entirely.
He rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, I guess I don’t have to worry about my family believing we’re dating.”
Right. Fake dating. “That’s the plan.” She wiped her hands down her pants and stepped farther into her room. “I guess I’ll call it a night. Thank you again for the date.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow.” He smiled.
She didn’t watch him leave before shutting the door, leaning her back against it, and groaning. If there was anyone listening up there, she needed them to rescue her. She’d liked him from the moment she met him. Their talks had only intensified it, and now, the kiss to end all kisses was throwing her body into chaos.
What should she do? She crossed the room to the bed, flopped down, and rolled onto her side. It wasn’t fair that she’d met Bear now. Why couldn’t it have been after her restaurant was open? Or why couldn’t he live in San Antonio?
Then again, he’d most likely kissed her because he’d heard Stephanie before Winnie did. She’d just have to keep in mind the fact that their relationship was fake if there was a next time. Again, she silently asked for help. She needed to make it to the first of the year. Oh, she was in so, so much trouble.
Chapter 11
It was Thanksgiving, and Bear had deliberately kept himself from being alone with Winnie since kissing her. It was the most cowardly thing he’d ever done. He should have faced her, told her he liked kissing her and that it couldn’t happen again. They had separate lives. He respected her dreams and wouldn’t do anything to stand in the way of them.
As he reached his bedroom door to go out and take care of his chores, he rubbed his face with his hands. Getting up at four in the morning was wearing on him. She’d offered to help him with the animals, but in his cowardice, he’d woken earlier than normal the last couple of days. By the time he returned to the house, everyone was up, and there was no chance his lips would stray.
With a deep breath and as much determination as he could muster without a bucket of coffee, he opened the door and stopped in his tracks. Someone was brewing coffee. Reagan never woke up this early to make coffee.
“You look like a man who could use a cup of coffee,” Winnie said as she stepped into view. “I don’t know if it’s as good as Reagan’s, but I tried.” She smiled.
What could he do? “Uh…”
She closed the distance between them. “Since my luggage is still missing, that deal I made to pay you back for my knives is still in force. I even shook on it. You’re keeping me from honoring my word. And from what I’ve been told, it’s a rare thing for people to mean what they say.”
He’d felt bad before, and now he felt lower than dirt. “I’m sorry.”
Closing the remaining gap, she circled her arms around his chest. “You’re a good man.” She leaned back, took his chin in her fingers, and held it while their eyes locked. “I don’t know everything Angela did. What I do know is that she lost out.”
Bear wrapped his arms around her and breathed her in. Their kiss had blown his boots off. He could have kissed her until his last breath, and it wouldn’t have been long enough. This relationship couldn’t go anywhere, and it was ever-present in his mind. “You scared me.”
“I figured as much when you avoided spending time alone with me since you kissed me.” She dropped her fingers from his face and stepped back. “We both heard those footsteps on the stairs. I knew the kiss didn’t mean anything, and I’m okay. We’re good.”
He hadn’t heard a dadgum thing when he kissed her except the pounding of his own heart. His lips had gone rogue, and the next thing he knew, he was holding her, kissing and wishing it would never stop. Knowing that Stephanie’s presence was why Winnie had kissed him back hurt a little, but it was a good thing. The little he was already attached would only get worse if she returned his affection. “Right. I won’t do that again. Next time, I’ll talk to you.”
She grinned. “I’m a grand listener. My dad talked over me my whole life, so I know what it’s like to have no one hear me.”
So that’s why she was surprised he’d remembered little things about her. She was used to being ignored. How could anyone do that to her? How could he have done it the past few days? “I will never do that again. I see you, Winifred Fordham. I hear you too. I’ll do my best to make sure you never feel that way with me.”
Her eyes grew misty. “That’s as good as written in stone, coming from you.”
“You want to grab some coffee and then go out with me? It shouldn’t take too long this morning. We’re just taking care of the horses. The ranch hands will take care of the herd.”
“They’re working on Thanksgiving?”
“We work all year round. Animals don’t much care about holidays.” He laughed.
Winnie nodded. “I guess I’d never thought about it, but you’re right. I suspect they wouldn’t.”
“So, coffee and then the horses?”
“Sure,” she replied. “Then I can get cleaned up and work on Thanksgiving Dinner.”
Just as she turned, he caught her and pulled her back. “You really don’t have to work for your knives. It was a pleasure to buy them for you.” He meant it. It was just money. Then again, he was still torn up with how Angela used him. Perhaps he could apply the same philosophy to Angela and move on.
With a shrug and a smile, she tangled her fingers in his. “The things that mean the most are the things you work for.”
Yeah, yeah they were. “All right.”
After a short pit stop to down some coffee—and it rivaled Reagan’s brewing skills—they headed to the barn. Once there, he held the door as she entered and shut it behind them. Every winter, he was more and more thankful they’d spent the money to have the barn heated.
“Oh, this is nice.” Winnie turned to face him. “No wonder I didn’t need much more than a coat. It’s toasty in here.”
“We wanted the horses taken care of. They work just as hard as we do.”
“Do you do take care of the horses by yourself every day?” she asked. It was a good question and something he’d thought about often.
Shrugging, he nodded. “Mostly. Sometimes I wish I had a dog to keep me company, but I don’t have the time to even find one.”
“I can see a dog being a good friend.” She took a deep breath, rubbed her hands together, and said, “All right, put me to work. What’s first?”
A woman had never been as attractive to him as Winnie was at that moment. She was willing to get her hands dirty. When she’d offered, he figured it would more be her keeping him company as he worked, but it was clear that Winnie was in the barn to help.
Had Angela ever done that? That was a big fat resounding no. It should have been a huge red flag when the woman cried about her nail breaking. Why hadn’t he realized that before getting so serious? Before…making a stupid choice.
He smiled. “Follow me.”
By the time they reached the last horse, Bear could tell Winnie had listened to him. She took charge and did exactly as he’d shown her. Checking their hooves, underneath their blankets, making sure they hadn’t somehow hurt themselves. She was good with them too. Once she was finished, she led the gelding out to the pasture.
Now was the real test. Mucking the stalls. She turned to
him with a wide grin on her face. “Is that all?”
“Not quite. We need to clean out their stalls.” He walked to the room where his wheelbarrow and pitchfork were stored. If she helped with this one, he’d be floored. “This is the real dirty part.”
Her smile never faltered. “Okay.”
His pulse tripled its speed. Winnie didn’t mind a little dirt or hard work. If he didn’t respect her before, which he did, he would now. “You really don’t mind mucking stalls, do you?”
“I said I’d help. Unless you’re just messing with me.”
“No, their stalls need to be cleaned out after they’ve spent the night in them.” He pushed the wheelbarrow into the nearest stall. “You can use these, and I’ll get a set for myself.”
After that, they worked mostly in silence. He’d hear her humming from time to time. It was a tune he actually knew. A Don Williams song, “Lord, I Hope This Day Is Good.” That was old music. Stuff his dad listened to sometimes.
It wasn’t long until he was humming with her. A truer song couldn’t have fit the day if it tried. The only thing he wished was different was his circumstances. He didn’t like lying to his family. When he’d first had the idea, he’d been too focused on how lonely he’d be watching his brothers and sister play with their kids and snuggle next to someone.
As much as he wanted what they had, he didn’t have the courage to put his heart out there. His love was spent on Angela, and he’d yet to recoup the cost. Now, there was Winnie, and he was realizing that living in the past was keeping him from all the good things in life. Maybe he needed to ruminate on that a bit.
After pitching the last bit of hay into the wheelbarrow, he steered it out and found Winnie leaning against the barn wall, smiling. She’d beat him. “You have a pretty good voice.”
“What?” he asked, freezing in his tracks.
“You were singing.”
He hadn’t even realized that. “I was?”
She pushed off the wall and closed the distance. “Yeah, Don Williams. My nanny had a crush on him. He was her long, tall cup of tea.”
He set the fork down and leaned on the handle. “My dad likes him. Well, he likes country. Guess that’s where I learned to like it too.”
“Nanny played Don Williams more times than I can count. Him and George Jones and Conway Twitty. I was not the most popular kid in school with my music taste.” Winnie laughed, crossing her arms over her chest and casting her gaze to the floor like she was reliving a sweet memory. “She’d turn the music up to the point where it almost rattled my teeth and then would dance with me. I don’t know if it’s the music or the memories I love. Maybe both. I want to do that with my kids one day.”
Talk about things in common. “Me too. I want to be a dad like my dad was to me. Teaching me how to shoot, how to keep my word, and how to treat a woman. I’d catch him dancing with my mom from time to time. It was like they treated life as their honeymoon.”
Lifting her gaze to his, Winnie nodded. “Yeah. I don’t remember my parents being together. I think I would have liked that.”
“I did,” Bear said, putting his pitchfork and wheelbarrow up. “You ready to put fresh hay down?”
“Sure. I like the smell of hay.”
For a minute, he stared at her, wondering what it would be like to meet all of life’s tasks with her next to him. It would certainly make short work of them. The chores had gone by faster than he could ever remember.
When he’d chosen Winnie, it was because she seemed the most down-to-earth. At the time, he’d convinced himself that everything about her was fake, just like Angela. Now, he could see he’d been wrong about Winnie. If he could just…what? Stop Angela from living in his head rent-free? Because she had since the day she left.
That woman had torn him to shreds, and he was still letting her mess with his life. Maybe it really was time to box her up, set her atop a bonfire, and burn her away so he could move on. He couldn’t have Winnie, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t someone out there for him.
Perhaps the new year would be his fresh start. He’d move on and find someone to love. Hopefully, he’d find someone like Winnie. Only, deep down, he knew she was one of a kind. Was there really such a thing as second-best in love? Boy, the next few weeks were going to leave him in an entirely different twisted state. Except this time, the woman would be worth his thoughts.
Chapter 12
Bellying up to the counter next to the sink, Winnie dried the dishes she’d used to fix the turkey as Bear washed them. It was now back in the fridge, all spiced up and ready for the oven later. Since the family did late lunch on Thanksgiving, there was time before she’d need to put it in the oven.
“I think I’m surprised you waited until today to dress the bird. I figured that being a chef, you would have done something…I don’t know, fancier?” Bear shrugged.
“Natalie would have, but this is a mixture of her and my nanny’s cooking. I hope everyone likes it. This will be the first time I’ve cooked for people I don’t know and stayed for the reviews.”
She’d tried to shoo him out of the kitchen because that wasn’t part of their arrangement, but he’d insisted on helping. How could she turn it down when she enjoyed his presence so much?
After kissing her on Monday, he’d avoided her the next two days. Well, not totally. She just saw a pattern that he’d disappear when they were the only two left in a room. All day Wednesday, she’d tried to figure out a way to make things between them normal again.
Then she’d devised the perfect plan. He was a man of his word. If there was one thing he’d understand, it was Winnie sticking to her promise to help him with chores. There was also the issue of the kiss. Once she made it known that she knew it wasn’t a real kiss, she could see the tension lift from him. That was the nail that fixed the whole shebang.
Not that she felt that way at all about their kiss. To her, it was every bit as real as a kiss could be. If she’d had her way, they’d still be right there in her doorway, kissing while the world just hung in suspended animation.
A tiny spray of water landed on her face, and she jumped. “What?”
“I’ve been calling your name.” Bear laughed. “Where did you go?”
Nowhere she was willing to tell him about. “You could have tapped me on the shoulder.”
“With wet hands?” he asked, trying to hand her a plate. “That would have only made you wetter.”
“Maybe, but,” she dipped the tips of her fingers in the water and flicked them at him, “that makes us even.”
His jaw dropped open as he set the plate on the counter. “I was trying to get your attention.” He flicked her twice more in rapid succession.
All right. One flick, fine. Two flicks, less fine. Three? Oh, that was a declaration of war. She cupped a little of the water in her hand and flung it at him.
He tried to deflect it with his arm, and while it missed his face, some of the soap bubbles got in his hair. His eyebrows knitted together, and his lips turned down. “You’re getting my hair messed up.”
She covered her mouth with the back of her hand, laughing as he raked his hand through his hair. “Your hair is fine. It’s just a little water, right?”
For a heartbeat, he held her gaze, and she could see the mischief twinkling in his eyes. He cupped some water in his hand and splashed it at her. Only his hands were larger than hers, so it was more like getting caught in a downpour. “Not fair!”
“Totally fair. You used your hand, and I used mine.”
“Your hands are bigger.”
“So. Fair is fair.” He laughed.
Now it was really on. She was using both hands this time. If she needed to mop the floor later, she would, but this cowboy was going to learn that Winnie didn’t go down without a fight.
Before long, the sink was empty, they were soaked, and it looked like a rainstorm had hit the inside of the kitchen. She started to turn on the faucet, and he caught her around the waist, keeping it j
ust out of reach.
“This isn’t over!” she huffed.
He caged her in his arms against the island. “You win.”
“I didn’t win. You aren’t wet enough.” Besides, being told that she won wasn’t winning. That was just…losing in a nicer way.
“I’m soaked to my boots,” he said softly, touching a finger to her chin and making her look at him. “All the way to my boots.”
In an instant, all that water turned to steam. His lips were inches from hers, and it was all she could do not to kiss him. She caressed his cheek with the back of her hand, tracing the line of his jaw until she was palming the side of his face. His eyes slid closed, and he leaned his face into her hand.
“Whoops.” The sound of a deep male voice pulled them from the moment. “I see nothing.”
Bear straightened. “Shut up, Hunter.” He turned to Winnie. “Winnie, this my brother Hunter and his wife, Reagan.”
“Hi, I’m Winnie,” she replied, taking a turn shaking both their hands. She fussed with her hair. Why did she have to look like a wet mop right as she met another one of his brothers? “Hi, I’m sorry about all the water.”
Reagan chuckled and looked around. “I wish I’d met you sooner. I could have warned you about these men and water. I can’t tell you the number of times this one has started a water war.” She nodded toward her husband.
Hunter wrapped Reagan in his arms. “I don’t start them. I merely finish them.”
His wife elbowed him on the arm. “Not true.” She looked at Winnie. “If you want, I’ll clean up if you want to go change.”
“I kind of look like a wet rat.” Winnie looked down at her clothes.
“No worse than him,” Hunter teased.
Bear shoved him on the shoulder. “Shut up.” Putting his arm around Winnie’s waist, he pulled her close. “I’ll walk you to your room, okay?”
Winnie nodded, which really was the only response she could give. They were fake dating after all. “Sure.”
The Fake Girlfriend's Billionaire Match (Caprock Canyon Romance Book 4) Page 5