Her Best Friend Fake Fiancé: Benton Billionaire Series
Benton Brother Romance
Kimberly Krey
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Free Book
Also by Kimberly Krey
About the Author
Copyright © 2019 KIMBERLY KREY
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
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Chapter 1
~Ten Years Ago
Sawyer glanced casually around the roomful of guests and noticed, without effort, that Betzy was missing. Must have snuck off to the restroom.
Music thumped loud over the chatter as he weaved toward the drink station—brown-tinted bottles of nonalcoholic fake beer, a selection of energy drinks, and an array of iced cold coffees. The sight alone, surrounded by solo cups and ice buckets, screamed parent-chaperoned graduation party. And that it was—combined with his own farewell gathering—courtesy of Sawyer’s insistent mother.
And though he was surrounded by a few dozen of his finest friends, Sawyer couldn’t shake the odd emptiness that hovered beyond the crowd. He always figured he’d be excited about trading his laid-back life on the west coast for fast-paced living in New York City, but he hadn’t known how hard it would be to say goodbye to all that he’d known.
The distinct jostle of the bathroom door gained Sawyer’s attention in a blink. A tall blonde stepped out of the doorway as it swung open. Dang, not Betzy. It was Daisy.
“Got a little something to put in those drinks?” came a voice from behind.
Sawyer looked over his shoulder to see Duke standing there. “Uh, if you ask around, I’m sure you’ll find something.” He motioned to a couple of his rowdier friends.
Duke followed his gaze to where the crowd huddled beside one of the speakers. “Thanks.”
“Hey, wait,” Sawyer blurted. Not that the kid kept track of his sister, but it was worth a try. “Do you know where Betzy ran off to?”
Duke nodded. “She’s out back. Think she’s pretty upset that you’re leaving.”
The way that he’d said it, so nonchalant and matter-of-fact, contrasted the response happening in Sawyer’s chest. Pulse pounding. Heart racing.
“Why would she be upset?”
Duke, who’d already started walking toward the group, shot him a questioning look. “Because you guys have been, like, best friends most of her life. Sheesh.”
But Sawyer couldn’t let it go so easily. “Yeah, but she’s been blowing me off all week. I wasn’t even sure she’d bother coming to this.”
Duke shook his head and shrugged. “Women.”
“Hi, Sawyer,” Daisy said, joining the small huddle. “Hi, Duke.” The blonde rested one hand on Sawyer’s shoulder, the other on Duke’s. “Which one of you handsome guys would like to walk this girl onto the dance floor?”
Sawyer gave Duke a look, one he hoped said she’s all yours.
Duke furrowed his brow and eyed the modest-sized room. “Uh, it’s not much of a dance floor, but I will.” Relief washed over Sawyer as Duke shot Daisy a wink and wrapped a hand around her waist. “C’mon.”
“Fine,” she said with a sigh. But before she was dragged off to the dance area, Daisy rushed in and pressed a kiss to Sawyer’s cheek. “You owe me the next one.”
Sawyer didn’t bother replying as he stepped away, eyes already set on the door leading to the patio out back. No guy liked being toyed with by their ex-girlfriend. Period. Especially in front of his buddies. Besides, Sawyer sensed there was some sort of rivalry between Betzy and Daisy; he wanted to be clear about where his loyalty lay.
If he were being honest, something else was bothering him too. Duke’s comment about the inadequate dance area fed that monster of insecurity. A monster that appeared the moment Sawyer realized he was different from the kids at his prestigious private school.
While nearly every student lived posh lives—complete with massive estates, endless funds, and housemaids who picked up after them—Sawyer was born to a different sort of life. In fact, his mother was the housemaid. She’d worked for the Benton family from the time Sawyer was just two years old.
Generous as the billionaire family was, Claudia and Jonathon Benton paid for Sawyer to attend the finest private education money could buy—the very school their own children attended.
Of course, that’s not where he and Betzy became friends. That happened before they ever started school, when he lived in the staff’s quarters on the Benton Estate.
Sawyer’s hand felt numb as he gripped the knob and gave it a twist. What would he say to her?
Are you really upset that I’m leaving, like Duke said?
I’m going to miss you like crazy.
I want you to know that…that I’m doing this for you.
“Sawyer?”
The sound of his name made him freeze in place halfway between the kitchen and the outdoor deck. “Hey, Mom.” His shoulders fell flat, an action his mom followed with a concerned look.
“What’s wrong?” she asked. “Aren’t you having a good time?”
“No, I am. Of course.” He nodded and blew out a breath. Please don’t ask me to refill the ice buckets right now.
She didn’t. Instead, she tipped her head to look past him. Not that she’d see anything, as dark as it was. “Who’s out there?”
Great. “Um, maybe Betzy. Duke said she might be out here.” He threw a thumb over his shoulder.
Mom grinned. “Oh. Good.”
An uneasy sigh passed through his lips. “Okay.”
“Hey,” Mom said. “Be gentle with her, okay? She, um...this is probably pretty hard for her. Heck, you guys have been in love since you were old enough to talk.”
“Mom,” Sawyer hissed under his breath. Heat filled his neck and cheeks. “That was forever ago.”
His mom swept a blonde lock of her hair behind one ear and leaned in. “Well, if you’re leaving her behind to go make a name for yourself,” she said in a whisper, “you better leave her with something to remember you with.”
Sawyer shook his head. “Like what—jewelry? You know I can’t compete—”
But she swatted him on the arm before he could finish. “Like a kiss, dummy. A good one. Now get out of here.”
A groan made its way to his throat as he hurried out the door at last. If Betzy was standing within earshot, he’d rather jump off the balcony’s edge and hitchhike to the airport than have to face the embarrassment.
The soft creaking of the swing set out back said she might not have heard after all. Thank heavens.
Sawyer tucked his hands into his pockets as he took the wood-slatted steps, peering into the darknes
s below. There was likely enough light at his back that she could see his silhouette, but it wasn’t enough to reach the swing set. He only hoped it was actually her.
“Betz?” he hollered, testing.
“Sawyer?” She sounded surprised. “What are you doing out here?”
He shrugged, eyes adjusting as he approached the neglected swing set. “Maybe I’m looking for you.”
“Maybe?”
Sawyer stepped up to the swing beside hers, looped a hand around the cool, metal chain, and sank onto the seat. It stayed quiet as he watched her carve lines into the dirt with the toe of her shoe.
“It feels weird that you’re leaving,” she said, voice soft and small.
He nodded.
“I mean, you used to talk about it. I just didn’t think it’d actually happen.”
Sawyer weighed her words, not sure what she meant by them. He’d never wavered in his pursuit for success. Had she seen him as a big talker or a dreamer? Incapable of following through?
“I just don’t see why it has to be so far away. There’s plenty of real estate in California. Why does it have to be New York?”
A spark of warmth flared in his chest. She didn’t want him to leave. He liked that. With the new dose of encouragement pushing him on, he gripped hold of the chains, reared back a few steps, and began to pump. “Swing with me.”
“Will you answer my question if I do?”
“Maybe.”
Betzy started to back the swing up, but she stopped at his reply. “I’m not going to swing with you if you don’t.”
He chuckled. “This feels like the good old days, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah.” She plunked onto her swing and began to pump. “It does. I miss it.”
More heat brewed low in his belly. “I miss it too. As for the New York thing, it’s what I’ve always planned on. My uncle’s one of the biggest real estate tycoons in the business, and he’s going to teach me everything he knows. Why not learn from the best?”
He swooshed past her a few times, back and forth, before finally matching her pace.
“Yeah, but you don’t have to be rich.”
“Says the girl from the billionaire family. The one who just inherited her first million…”
“I invested my first million and…and you know that’s not important to me, right?”
Sawyer didn’t reply. What could he say, that he didn’t believe her? “I can still make you marry me either way,” he said, thinking back on the silly document they’d constructed years back.
“Are you talking about the marriage contract?” she said with a laugh. “Oh, I can’t believe we did that. I reeled you right in, didn’t I?”
Sawyer was about to lean back and pump the swing higher, but her words stopped him short. He let his feet hit the dirt once, then twice before he stopped. “What do you mean? The whole marriage contract was my idea.”
That cute little laugh of hers toppled from her lips. “That’s how I reeled you in. I got you to do it, and think it was your idea too.”
He’d have to consider that some more. The way he saw it, it was all his idea, all the way down to the determined age the marriage should take place—twenty-eight years old. Two significant events took place because of that contract, events that catapulted Sawyer toward one life-changing choice.
The first came when Sawyer boasted the contract to his wealthy Uncle Ryan.
Sawyer could hear his response even still. Oh, no, little buddy. You can’t marry into money unless you have money of your own. You better come work for me if you want to get a chick like that.
While he’d gotten crap from his uncle about the impossibilities of marrying Betzy, she was getting an earful from her mother. One Sawyer had, by accident, overheard.
I’m not mad about the contract, sweetie. I think it’s cute. We love Sawyer too. But you’re a Benton, don’t forget that. When you come from money, you don’t marry the housemaid’s son. You just don’t.
Sure, the woman was kind to him. Very. And Sawyer had told himself that Claudia had likely changed her position over the years, but he couldn’t be sure.
Either way, those two instances sparked a determination like none he’d ever known. He would go work for Uncle Ryan. And then, he’d come back and marry Betzy when he was ready.
“I’m going to jump,” Betzy announced, pulling him from his musings. “Should I do it?”
“I wouldn’t,” Sawyer said as he looked into the darkness. Sure, his eyes had adjusted enough to see her right beside him, but the wider part of the yard looked like one black hole.
Betzy started counting. “One…”
“What if you run into the lawn mower or something?” he asked.
“Two…” she continued.
Sawyer came to a stand and wiped his hands on his jeans. If Betzy said she was going to jump, that meant she would jump, alright.
“Three!” And there she went, flying right out of her swing and into the darkness. “Woo-hoo,” she hollered from a spot across the yard.
Sawyer squinted, trying to catch sight of her white, summer dress while an odd knot of longing pulled at him from the inside. He’d miss this. Miss hanging out with the girl who’d captured him in every possible way.
It had put him in a tough spot. He couldn’t date her until he had money. But how was he supposed to keep her in his life without getting permanently placed in the friend zone?
Inevitably, he’d dated other girls. She’d dated other guys, and they’d spent less time together over the years, which seemed to support Uncle Ryan’s notion—he needed to make money, make a name for himself, and then maybe he’d have a shot.
Well, that’s just what he planned to do.
But maybe…just maybe what his mom said was true. Heck, the friend zone was a very real thing, and if he was taking off the next few years, Sawyer may as well leave Betzy with something that went far beyond friendship.
Betzy snuck quietly across the grass toward the shed in Sawyer’s yard, hoping he hadn’t detected her movement as he called for her.
“Betz, you there?” He sounded worried now. She chuckled under her breath as she made her way through the high, grassy weeds between the fence and the shed.
“What, we’re playing hide and seek now?” he asked, sounding amused.
It took everything in her not to laugh out loud. Betzy knew she was being silly, but spending this time with Sawyer brought out the kid in her. Made her want to do things like jump out of her swing, hide behind the shed, and jump out at him once she got to the other side, something she totally planned on doing next.
She moved to take another step when her foot got snagged in a tangled patch of weeds. If she wasn’t careful she’d fall on her face, but as she lifted her foot higher to free it from the growth, her hip bumped the shed and tipped her off balance.
Frantically, she spun to face the fence, hoping to catch the chain link with her fingers, when suddenly a strong set of arms caught her from behind. “Gotcha!”
It was Sawyer, and yes, he did. That heavenly scent of his aftershave confirmed it, if the strength of his solid arms didn’t say enough. And while it startled her—enough to pull a squeal from her throat—it felt wonderful to be so close.
Not that he needed to know that. She spun around and gave his arm a swat. “I was supposed to get you,” she griped.
“Oh, yeah?” Sawyer took a step closer. She could see, by his silhouette against the houselights, that his arms were raised in surrender. “Then go ahead. Get me.” He stepped closer still, infusing her next breath with that masculine scent of him.
She exhaled, the sound jagged and raw as the tips of his fingers slid down her forearms, further still until he cupped her elbows in his palms.
Her feet were squared solidly below her shoulders, something she paid mind to as his foot slid right in between. She gulped, took one step backward, and met with a wall of sorts. The shed, perhaps? She spun to see a row of barrels nudged up against the shed. Oh.
>
It had started out playful enough, but this…the chemistry blazing between them, this went beyond mere teasing and flirting. This was real, and Betzy knew it.
Years of attraction, on her part at least, coupled with years of wondering where Sawyer’s feelings lay. Did he like her more than a friend? She’d been positive that he had, but she couldn’t explain why he’d never asked her out. What had he been waiting for—a green light?
Could she give him the green light now?
Too late. She was already leaning into his chest, soaking in his warmth and his smell. She’d dreamt of being in his arms more times than she could count. And now, among the stars, the moon, and the crickets in the night, that dream was coming to life.
As if reading her very thoughts, Sawyer moved his hands to her hips and squeezed. A deep thrill rippled through her at the sensation of his grip. He always was taller than her—now six feet to her mere five and half—but he rectified that by hoisting her up and onto the surface of one of the barrels.
He stepped in to close the gap, one leg sliding between hers, his warm hands still pleasantly on her waist. He came in then, tentatively at first, and brushed his lips against hers like a whisper.
Yes. So good.
If a green light is what he needed, a green light is what he’d get. She wanted more of Sawyer’s kiss. Needed it.
Without another thought, Betzy moved her hands up his solid arms, slowly tracing the length of his biceps with her fingertips.
Goosebumps rose over his skin as she reached his shoulders. And then his neck. She cradled the back of his head as his mouth grazed the spot just beneath her earlobe.
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