Matched With Her Cowboy Billionaire Ex-Fiance

by Bonnie R. Paulson

  “Okay, thanks. Let me know what you find out, okay? Thanks, Dad. I’m heading to the office.” They disconnected and Taylor parked the car in front of the Dean Matchmaking House.

  They’d bought an older house with interesting gables, angles, and turrets because of the romanticism around the architecture of the structure. The whole Dean family had banded together and painted the siding a dusky gray-lavender and the trim a creamy-almost-white. A couple of the sisters had put violets, irises, and ferns in all the planter boxes and flower beds around the foundation of the house.

  She loved the home they’d taken on as the base of their business. Taylor climbed the steps and let herself inside, reveling in the quiet of the empty offices. Inside, she leaned back, letting her head fall against the door panel.

  They hadn’t found a match for her. Not one.

  Was she really that bad that there was no one out there for her? Even the guy she’d once been matched to hadn’t worked out for her. Her dad and Elizabeth, two of the best matchmakers in the world still hadn’t found a candidate for her.

  What did that say about her? Maybe everything she’d feared over the last two decades was actually fact. Maybe there was no one out there for her. Maybe she was going to be lonely for the rest of her life.

  “Is anyone here?” Taylor waited for the answering silence before she let herself give over to the moment.

  Instead of heading into the office, she sank to her reared on the hardwood floor and folded her arms around her knees, leaning her forehead forward. She’d never admit to the sobs that racked her shoulders or the tears that soaked her cheeks.

  She was stronger than that. She had to be, if she was going to be alone the rest of her life.

  Chapter 10

  Roman

  Somehow Roman hadn’t foreseen, he’d hurt Taylor. And bad.

  But how? He’d double-checked with his lawyers to make sure it wasn’t hindering any part of the competition.

  He couldn’t help the declaration. He had to win. He needed his position in the family back, in the town back. Olivia knew him well enough; they could date and even be considered an item for a while after the contest and then they’d go about their own lives. They wouldn’t have to get married. There wouldn’t be that expectation of forever or even a couple years. It was simply to win the contest.

  Declaring it though, had been more nerve-wracking than he’d thought it would be. Standing in front of Taylor and the rest of Mistletoe – all who knew his past or would have heard of it when he returned to town, he’d suddenly been worried about what people would think. Especially Taylor.

  That ship had sailed though. He’d walked away from any future with the Dean girl when he’d abandoned her on their wedding day. There was no going back from that. There wasn’t enough forgiveness in the world to patch up that mistake.

  He could accept that. But for some reason, the pain in her eyes when she’d agreed to the dual job he’d claimed haunted him even as he sat at the desk in the back of the Wilson Wedding Coordinators office in town.

  Brock had given him a key and shown him to the back office, the last empty one. Roman had been fine with the office, thinking he’d gotten away with the best location in the building until the first time someone had flushed a toilet.

  Pipes creaked and moaned in the walls around the office space as well as the sound of rushing water spinning through the ceiling. The sensation wasn’t the best one. In an office full of men, the toilet was constantly getting flushed.

  Roman tapped the end of a black fine-tipped pen on the surface of the heavy-duty oak desk. Wrinkling his forehead, Roman stared down at the calendar of events Mr. Gentry had given him in the matchmaker packet.

  He flipped the pages back and forth. October would be over before he knew it. Then there was November and December to get through since the contest culminated on the day before Christmas Eve at the carnival.

  He had to somehow get Olivia to agree to choose him without telling her what he was doing or why he was doing it.

  Olivia’s excitement that he had chosen to be her suitor was more than obvious in her text messages, constant calls, and even vague social media posts that were more than apparent they were about him.

  Seriously, what had he gotten himself into? He hadn’t meant to hurt Taylor. At the same time, he’d hurt her the worst he could have when he left. There really couldn’t be anything more he could do.

  Could he?

  Roman wasn’t sure. He wasn’t sure about anything except the fact that he needed to win that stupid contest. Offering himself up as the suitor was the only thing he could think of, short of actually telling Olivia he wanted her to choose his guy. That was definitely against the rules.

  That afternoon, he was supposed to meet with Taylor’s suitor. In fact, looking through all of the scheduled meetings and the dates and the monitored time together, Roman was going to be spending more time with Taylor as the competitor’s suitor and as the opposing matchmaker then he’d be spending with Olivia.

  That was both a benefit and a drawback. Being around Taylor that much wasn’t going to help him get over her. Not that eighteen years on the other side of the world had helped much either. Maybe seeing her would help him be more desensitized to her. If he wasn’t allowed to touch her or be with her, then maybe he could convince himself he didn’t care.

  He’d bet himself a stack of reindeer antlers he lied worse to himself than anyone else.

  Inputting the calendar of events into his phone took almost an hour. By the time he was finished, he had to hurry to make the scheduled meeting time with Stephen Johnson, the suitor Taylor had chosen for Olivia.

  She’d picked him out. Did that mean she found him attractive? Was he the type of guy she was looking for herself? What did she want in a suitor? Roman had tried peeking into her file, but it wasn’t in the computers. It had to mean something along those lines.

  Roman walked the short distance to the Mistletoe Café. He pushed through the door, leaving the chilly wind outside the double-entranced foyer. Scanning the restaurant, Roman narrowed his eyes at the sight of Stephen already sitting in a booth by the windows. He had taken his hat off and set it on a hook provided on the wall beside the booth seat backs.

  The man was attractive, not that Roman was interested. He just couldn’t help sizing Stephen up as the competition as well as what kind of a guy would be around Taylor often.

  Roman plastered a wide smile on his mouth and strode toward the booth, taking his hat off as he got closer. “Stephen Johnson, so nice to finally meet you and shake your hand.” He held out his hand and clasped Stephen’s tightly.

  Okay, a good grip. Roman had more respect for a guy with a good handshake.

  Stephen’s warm expression as he resettled into his seat didn’t dim when Roman pulled out a pad of paper and a pen. Instead, if anything, his grin grew wider. “Please, don’t tell me you’re as into scheduling and list making as Taylor. Even if you are, I guarantee you’re not as efficient as she is.”

  Roman laughed, setting his pen on the paper pad. He shook his head. “Taylor and I grew up together and that was one of the things that drove me nuts.” Her insatiable need to be planned out to the second. The fact that she watched the clock more than she watched any event they were at had driven him absolutely insane.

  “Yeah, I know how it can be annoying, but it’s a control issue for her. She was telling me that her mom used to have bulimia and anorexia and when Taylor didn’t have control over time, she would slip into counting the calories of everything in the kitchen, on her plate, on the menus, everything. She’d watched her mom get sick repeatedly and she didn’t want that problem. So, she turned her need to fixate onto controlling how she spent her time.” Stephen spoke matter-of-factly. Probably because he’d been given a chance to know Taylor that Roman had never taken.

  Roman blinked, his lower lip falling open at the revealing statement that made so much sense and also made him feel like a complete fool. He’d
worried so much about what she was trying to control, he’d missed the why behind it. He cleared his throat and shifted on the vinyl booth. “That doesn’t bother you?” He needed to hear it bugged Stephen so the way Roman had felt when they were younger seemed more justified.

  Stephen shook his head. “Nah, women have different needs than we do. Some need control, some need a protector, some want to provide, some want to stay home with the kids, while some want to work. You love them for who they are – all of it – or you don’t really love them, you know?” Stephen leaned forward, steepling his fingers on the table. He motioned toward the menu and wrinkled his nose. “I hope you’re okay with me not ordering anything. I’m particular about what I eat. My restaurants are pretty much the only places I’ll go for food I don’t prepare myself.”

  Roman relaxed a little bit into the booth. So, the man did have a quirk. “No, that’s good with me. You own a restaurant. You cook, too? Don’t you have a chef who cooks for you?”

  “Oh, yeah, I have quite a few chefs. I started out as a cook at a ranch and then continued moving up in my career. I always put my dreams first, though. Now, I want a family. No point in having money and twelve restaurants, if I can’t share the goods with someone and kids, you know?” He drank from the cup of coffee, judging by the smell emanating from the steam swirling upward from behind the brim.

  “You own more than one restaurant? That’s not on your sheet.” Roman’s surprise was as genuine as his admiration. The man had an opportunity to brag about himself and he’d gone with the humbler version. That wasn’t something most men would do.

  “Nah, that’s not what is important. I don’t want someone to want me for my money, you know? I’m still a cook. I still cook best over a campfire, no matter how many brick ovens I build or grills or woks.” He offered a side grin and pointed at the note paper. “Are you supposed to be asking me specific questions? Taylor is very methodical.”

  Roman used to be cynical about how overly planned out and prepared Taylor was. Now, with just a little bit of a glimpse into why, he suddenly felt inadequate when compared to her. “Yeah, I usually use this time to just get to know you a little bit. Plus, the normal questions I would ask like what are you going to do for the dates and other ways to connect and make yourself standout don’t seem very fair since I’m also the suitor, you know?” Roman leaned back, resting his hand on the paper.

  He had to ask. It wasn’t that he was trying to torture himself with information about Taylor, but he also couldn’t help asking. “Have you met Taylor’s husband? Or her boyfriend?” She had to have something like that. She was too gorgeous with too many positive traits to be single all that time.

  Stephen shook his head, sipping his coffee more and looking around the café. “No. I thought that she would definitely be snatched up, too, but that isn’t the case. She’s been single since some guy left her at the altar when she was eighteen.” He shook his head. “I don’t know which idiot that was, but I hope he’s suffering wherever he is. She’s not the kind of woman you walk away from.”

  Stung at being called an idiot, even though it was in a passive manner, Roman took a deep breath and nodded in agreement. “It sounds like you have a thing for Taylor, or are at least interested.” He didn’t phrase it as a question since he was more or less challenging Stephen to own the feelings that were more than obvious.

  Laughing, Stephen lowered his cup to the table and then brushed his fingers across his forehead, rearranging the hair falling over his eyes. “Oh, I’m interested. I’m definitely interested. I was trying to ask her out when I first met her and she misunderstood me and I somehow applied for the contest. The only time I get to spend with her is when she’s trying to match me to someone else.”

  Stephen leaned over, his expression earnest as he arched his eyebrows. “So, here’s the thing. I’m not interested in Olivia at all. I’d really like it, if you could layer on the attention and I’ll just pale in comparison to you and then I can be left as unpicked and maybe then Taylor will notice me. What do you think? This way you’ll win, I’ll win, Olivia will win, and I can try to console Taylor on her loss which might mean she would have won?” Hope made him clutch his fingers together as he waited for Roman’s answer.

  Roman blinked at Stephen, unsure what to say or even how he felt about the information that had just been dumped on him. Stephen wasn’t even interested in Olivia. No, he wanted Taylor. He wanted to work with Roman to make sure Taylor lost so that he could be there for her.

  As much as Roman wanted to win, he didn’t want to win when it seemed like everyone was working against Taylor. He wanted a fair fight. But then he stopped his mental defense of Taylor and himself. Did he really want a fair fight? If he did, he wouldn’t have offered himself as a candidate. He wanted to win, no matter what.

  Stephen was giving him an out. All Roman had to do was agree to it.

  He took a deep breath and shook his head. “You’ve got a solid plan, it sounds like.” Thinking about everyone else getting what they wanted while Taylor lost made things really stand out for Roman. He’d wanted her to lose from the beginning, but honestly, maybe it was because he’d thought she would be fine since, in his mind, she had a husband and kids or something.

  In all honesty, he also wanted to get back at her for being happy and at home while he’d made one bad choice after another. Everything he’d done had messed up his personal life and given other people their dreams in his business life.

  She’d never married. She’d never been with anyone else since the jerk left her. The more Roman thought about it, the more he was able to separate himself from the guy who had left her so long ago.

  “Yeah, I’ve been trying to date her for almost a year now. I could really use your help.” Stephen thrummed his fingers on the table.

  “I want to win, that’s not a secret. I’m just surprised you’re asking me for your help, is all.” Well, it wasn’t all, but it certainly made up a huge part of it and was easier to explain that what was running through Roman’s head.

  “Well, I figured you’d be up for it since you chose to be the suitor for Olivia. This way you can have Olivia and I can have Taylor. It’s the perfect plan.” Stephen’s eagerness wasn’t feigned. He seemed like a good guy and Roman could see all the benefits of going along with him. But he could also see the biggest problem with the plan.

  Roman didn’t want Stephen to have Taylor. Roman didn’t want Olivia. For some stupid reason, his jealousy reared its head and he realized he didn’t want anyone else with her, if he couldn’t have her.

  That unwelcome thought process was just enough to push him to taking control. Roman couldn’t have Taylor. He might as well ensure he won the contest. He jerked his chin upward. “Sounds like a good deal. I’m in.” Checking the rules wasn’t an option. He didn’t care if it was legal or not. He was going for it.

  Stephen’s eyes lit up. “Perfect. I’ll downplay my time with Olivia and you up-play yours. I’ll focus on Taylor. This shouldn’t be hard at all.”

  Except… Roman had no doubt, if Taylor found out, it was going to be the hardest time of his life. She wouldn’t tolerate that kind of betrayal. There would be no opportunity to finally be friends again. There would be no chance at anything. Nothing.

  All of that would be out the door.

  Roman leaned across and tapped the table in front of Stephen. “This needs to stay between us. Do you understand?”

  Stephen nodded. He would. Of course, he’d keep his mouth shut. He wanted a chance at a woman like Taylor. Well, she wasn’t one you walked away from. Not if you ever wanted to find love in your life.

  Roman knew all about that. He’d been stupid once. He’d never get another chance like that again.

  Chapter 11

  Taylor

  Taylor set her laptop on the coffee table and stood from the couch. She’d been a big fan of most of her sisters staying with their dad at the ranch, but Taylor needed her own space, her own privacy, and her own
timeline. No one else cared about being on time like she did. No one else cared if the house was spotless or arranged in a certain way. Taylor needed it. She craved it. Because what would happen, if she let everything go?

  She walked into the kitchen, and removed the softly whistling teapot from the gas stove burner.

  She’d already arranged her cup with a tea bag and a spoon. Pouring the boiling water into the cup, she dipped the bag down and up, down and up, then let it steep while she got down the honey from her dad’s place. There was a richness in local honey you couldn’t find in the store-bought variety.

  Taylor took a deep breath, grateful for the quiet of the later evening. According to the calendar, Roman was supposed to be out with Stephen until ten PM. For some reason, that made her feel more secure.

  If Roman was out with Stephen and getting to know that candidate, then he wasn’t out with Olivia. As long as he wasn’t out with Olivia, then he wasn’t winning or falling in love. Both were things Taylor was fine with.

  She didn’t want him to win and she didn’t want him to fall in love. Was that bad?

  Yes, of course, it was bad. Taylor wanted to fall in love. She wanted all the things that went along with a picket fence. She couldn’t have those with Roman. Not anymore. Seeing him in real life only seemed to make that fact more apparent. She had to move on. He had.

  A knock at the door drew her attention. The green digital numbers on the stove display read 9:02 at night.

  Glancing at her phone, Taylor noticed she hadn’t missed any calls or texts. Whoever was outside her place wasn’t being very polite by giving her a heads up they were coming.

  She crossed to the door, already frustrated that someone would come so late without announcing themselves. For some reason, that slipped itself onto her list of pet peeves and had never really let go.