My Billionaire Fake Fiance: A Romantic Comedy (Beaky Tiki Series Book 1)

by Elyse Riggs

  “Alrighty,” I say, steeling myself for round two with the paparazzi. I check my watch and realize that it’s barely ten in the morning. “How many more houses do we have?”

  “Six, I think.” Chase says as he turns back to Fred. “Six more?”

  “Six more,” Fred confirms.

  We weave our way back through the house and out the front door, into the chaos. Dozens of photographers, out of their own vehicles, crowd near the limo. Luckily, the driver is holding them all back. I’m grateful, but I wonder how he managed to hold that entire frantic mob back all by himself.

  I squint into the sun at the scene to see that one, he is an excessively big dude. Much bigger than he looks seated and driving. He has to be at least six-foot-six and he isn’t skinny either. And two, it’s clear from his body language and the leery stares of the photographers that he is packing. As I jump back into the limo, I figure that’s at least one mystery solved.

  The driver gets in and swivels around to check that we’re okay before turning back around to face forward. Then he hits the gas. He barely even gives the paparazzi a chance to get out of the way. The guy has experience, and he’s cool as ice.

  Chase sees me clocking everything that’s going on and looks on approvingly. “We’re in very good hands. Raymond’s the best in the business.”

  I believe him. “Thank you, Raymond.” I can see a smile in the rear-view mirror, and he gives me a little wave.

  The rest of the morning is a haze of pretentious architecture, manicured lawns, interior fountains, beautiful back yards, and photographers. Rinse and repeat.

  The press continues to follow us from house to house somehow. I don’t know how they’re able to get into all the gated communities since even Raymond has to enter numeric codes, but whatever.

  Finally, the limo pulls up to the last house. I can tell right away that this property looks different. It’s smaller, cozier somehow. Don’t get me wrong, it can probably sleep eight or nine people, but that’s instead of thirty like the previous houses. It also looks more like a cottage than a mansion. I love it.

  We get out of the limo again under Raymond’s watchful eye, and wade past photographers onto a stone path that leads to the front door. There’s still a manicured lawn and palm trees in the yard, but it feels homier.

  Fred opens the door for us into an open living room that has actual couches. Well, all of the houses had couches, but so far none of them looked like the kind anyone ever sat on. There was also a fireplace, always a plus in my house-hunting ledger. Everything here is decorated in organic, soothing earth tones.

  The furniture is still super expensive looking, but it looks accessible and comfortable. Intrigued, I make my way to the kitchen. It also looks like it gets used regularly and has lots of natural light. Point to you, kitchen.

  All of a sudden, I look around, but I don’t see Chase. No matter. I wander out to the back yard through the decorative double glass doors with etched wood accents.

  Outside, there is a patio with a tile table and chairs. On the lawn under a tree is a yellow hammock. The breeze plays with my hair below the hideous hat that I forgot to take off once I got in the house. And now I decide to keep it on, since it’s such a pain carrying it around from house to house and taking it on and off.

  I stand for a long moment feeling relaxed. Then I take a picture of it all in my mind. A picture. Oh yeah. I pull out my phone and start taking pictures of everything. This house I want to remember.

  After a few minutes outside I head back in and wander around some more until I find the master bedroom. And the master bathroom. Ooh, sunken tub, tile shower, jack and jill sinks. I could probably live right here in this bathroom and be perfectly happy.

  I turn to leave the bathroom so I can go and check out the master bedroom again. And run right into Chase.

  We collide right around the doorway, both of us walking faster than we should have been. I half-scream as I put my hands out in order to hold onto his strong chest to keep from falling over. He isn’t expecting this, so he topples back and forth for a moment before stabilizing both of us.

  “Hello,” he says, “I’ve been looking all over for you. How was I supposed to know you were lying in wait all this time trying to kill me?”

  “Just having a look around,” I say, winking at him. “You know the saying, if I wanted to kill you, you’d already be dead.”

  I walk toward the right of him, trying to get around. Then he moves at the same time and we bump into each other again. Then we topple over onto the master bed. It’s comfortable.

  I turn over to face him. One look at those green eyes and I apparently forget that this is a temporary arrangement.

  And there’s also Fred, who I know is lurking nearby even if I can’t see or hear him. That makes all of this even weirder.

  “What do you think?” Chase asks as we climb up out of the bed.

  “About what?” I ask, backing up. “About this place, or about our literal inability to stop bumping into each other.” I think about my words for a moment. “It’s not what you think, Fred,” I yell.

  “This place,” Chase says, gesturing for me to go around him, to my left, which I do. Maybe it’s that the master bedroom is kind of romantic with a big window opening to the ocean. I can imagine sleeping so well listening to the roar of the waves every night.

  “It’s nice,” I tell Chase, looking around at all the wood accents and sitting chair with small desk to one side. “This is definitely my favorite of the ones we looked at today.”

  “I don’t know,” he says, seemingly surprised at my positive vibes about the house. “It’s kind of small, and not my favorite neighborhood.”

  “Are you kidding? This place is perfect. Have you seen the outside patio?”

  He laughs and reached a hand out to me. I take it and we go through the house again, this time acting the part of happy couple while I show him the charms of the adorable beachfront bungalow.

  At the end of it, Fred is sitting at the table in the kitchen with a pile of paperwork. “What do you guys think?” He asks, pointing at us obnoxiously with his pen. “I have a feel for these things. You guys liked the third house, didn’t you? Eh? Especially the misses.” He raises and lowers a black, bushy eyebrow at me.

  Ugh. Thank goodness we’re at our last house because I’m not sure how much more of Fred I can take.

  “The third house?” I try to remember. Then I skim through the pictures on my phone. “Oh yeah. Lime green, exotic Egyptian decorating, four fountains in the living room third house?” Fred is unbelievably bad at reading people if he thought I liked that house.

  Fred’s expression falls. “Maybe not. The fifth one, then. You guys both seemed happy with the fifth one. Am I right?”

  It’s Chase’s turn to jump in and have some fun. “Oh yeah, the blue and beige house. I do remember that one. Bad neighbors, good parking, tiny back yard.”

  Okay, so Fred doesn’t have a feel for these things at all. I try not to burst out laughing, watching his face as Chase screws with him, but I know he kind of deserves it. On another level, what kind of real estate agent expects an impulse buy that costs tens of millions of dollars after seeing just six houses on the first day? I guess I can’t blame a guy for trying.

  “This one,” Chase says, squeezing my hand.

  “What?” I turn to him, wondering if this time he’s messing with me. He doesn’t appear to be. “This one what?”

  “I think I’ll take it,” he tells Fred. But he’s looking at me. “Like you said, it’s cute.”

  Fred is freaking out, circling things with a pen and beaming from ear to ear. “Great. Perfect. No problem. I’ll draw up the paperwork right away.”

  Then he nods to me before he lets go of my hand and crosses to Fred. “Contingent on inspection and appraisal, blah, blah, blah. Go ahead and put something together and I’ll get back to you in a little while.”

  Turning his attention from Fred, he looks down at his phone, t
hen up at me. “Hey, I got a notification of a top-secret board meeting in a little while. New information. Very hush-hush.”

  “You think it’s about you?” I ask, noticing the worry lines return.

  “I can’t imagine what else it would be about.”

  “Why would they send you a notification of a super-secret meeting to discuss you?”

  “Because I’m a board member?” he asks. “I guess they forgot to take me out of the loop.”

  “Oh!” I say. “I think I have an idea. Do you think your brother will hold to the family tradition of holding secret meeting out by the ocean?”

  “Oh, for sure,” he answers. “Care to tell me what your idea is?”

  “I will,” I tease him with a smile. “But not here. In the car, after we get through that mob in the street. And spoiler alert, it involves the tacky tourist outfits that we used yesterday.”

  He grins at me. “Sounds awful. I like it already.”

  “Oh yeah,” I say. “One more thing. We’ll need to make a quick stop at a drug store.”

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chase

  I pace back and forth back in my suite waiting for Kaylee to reemerge from my bedroom. She says she has a plan, but I’m getting a little nervous. After all, the meeting my brother is having with the board will start in a little while and I’m getting restless.

  According to what we bought at our drug store pit-stop; her plan involves every cheap, tacky tourist beach accessory ever made. Neon colored beach towels, beach balls, foam boogie boards, cheap plastic folding lounge chairs, and even an igloo cooler are scattered around the room.

  The only idea I can think of is that she’s made some kind of drug deal at the Walgreens when I wasn’t looking and none of this has anything to do with figuring out what the board is up to. I pace faster.

  That is, until Kaylee emerges from my bedroom. I swallow hard. The bikini she’s wearing is spectacular. Black sequins shimmer in the light. Only, there’s very little fabric involved in the shimmering.

  Luckily, I’m not holding a drink in my hand right now, or I would have dropped it for sure. A specific part of me is getting hard and screaming screw the plan and the board of directors. I force myself to breathe. Then I remember what’s going on here. Focus, Chase.

  “What’s this big plan of yours, Kaylee? And why does it look like it involves the cheapest parts of the Walgreens kiddie pool section?”

  I ask her questions as I exhale and try not to let on how distracting her bathing suit is. “Also, nice bathing suit.” There simply is no use in pretending I don’t notice that bathing suit.

  She gives me a wicked, flirty smile that does nothing to calm my excited state. “Like it?”

  Of course I like it. Every single guy on the beach will be falling all over themselves. I’m the one who’s fake engaged to her and right now I can barely breathe. So now, in addition to the attraction I can’t deny, jealousy flashes in my mind at the thought of taking her out onto the beach full of other guys.

  All of a sudden, I don’t want to share her. Not now, not ever. Not here or there or on the beach or in the air. I blink and swallow and my chest feels tight.

  Where did those thoughts come from? I know this isn’t real. Why is it starting to feel like it is? Am I losing my mind?

  Thankfully, Kaylee picks that exact moment to fill me in.

  “The beach stuff is a decoy,” she says with a wink. “Trust me, when we walk out onto the beach in our stupid hats carrying our own lounge chairs and cooler, nobody will give us a second look. Not your brother, or your sister, or the paparazzi, or anybody else for that matter. And there’s no way they’ll recognize us on our way to the beach if we hold up a beach ball or boogie board over our face.”

  Oh, she’s good. I wrap my brain around the plan, and the more I think about it, the smarter it is. Plus, it helps me concentrate on something other than how hot she is and how I think I’m developing feelings for her, which is not part of the deal. For either of us.

  It’s not just the bathing suit either. Okay, it’s not not the bathing suit. But it’s also the fact that we work so well as a team. That she helps me even when she’s mad at me. That we laugh and argue, but then when a problem presents itself, we work together. I have to break myself out of the inner monologue

  Focus on the plan, Chase. “That’s true. You’re right, neither my family nor the paparazzi will give us a first or second glance. But if the plan is for nobody to notice us, then why in the hell are you in that bathing suit?”

  “I’m not the least bit worried about anybody recognizing me in this bathing suit. You actually do know me, and you haven’t once looked up at my face,” she says, tongue firmly in cheek.

  Damn, she’s got me there. I have to hand it to her. I’m fake engaged to a mastermind. And she caught me. “You’re right. Sorry,” I say, shaking my head. In truth, I’m trying to shake out all the mental cobwebs of the last few minutes.

  “All good,” she says with a little bow that shows off even more cleavage and threatens to make me even harder than I already am. At this point, I’ll have to do some meditation before I head out to the beach in order not to have a visible tent in my swimming trunks.

  “Trust me, it’s all part of my plan. Which is going to work to perfection, by the way. You need to know exactly what the board is up to and this will get you close without being discovered.”

  “I like it. Let’s go,” I look around at all the beach stuff we’re going to have to carry. “What are we going to put in the cooler?”

  “Nothing, but it doesn’t matter what’s in it. Just the presence of the cooler says we’re either super cheap, super broke, or super local. It’s the crown piece of the plan. Carrying that thing, nobody will bother you. Ready?”

  I nod, take a few quick, deep, relaxing breaths, and throw a couple of towels over my shoulder. Then, with a shrug, I pick up the boogie board, the cooler, and a lounge chair. I balance it all precariously. “You’ll have to grab the beach ball,” I say.

  She bends over in front of me to get the beach ball. I can only shake my head. “You know you’re killing me, right?”

  “Hey,” she says, “if it works on you, it should work on everybody else too.” She grabs an even tackier sun hat than the one I gave her this morning.

  Then she steps in front of me and lifts her head to look me in the eyes. Her soft brown eyes are an adorable combination of excited and empathetic. She’s reassuring me, but it’s not necessary. So far, what I’ve heard of the plan is great. I’m in.

  Her lips curl up into a gentle smile. “Now, listen. You can relax. I promise, this is going to work. You have to trust me, though. Do you?”

  I stare at her. She knows how much I have riding on this. How much I have emotionally invested in running this company. My whole life has led up to this and it is this close to getting ripped away from me.

  When I stare into her eyes, though, I know that she has my back. I don’t know exactly how or why, I just know. Trusting people is not my forte, but that’s my problem, not hers. “Okay, I trust you.”

  She nods and smiles.

  I stand there realizing I have finally met my match. She is worth every penny I’m paying her to play the part of my fake fiancé and then some.

  She’s so much more than just that. She’s a partner in crime. My only issue now is how I’m going to be able to focus. I hold out a hand for her. “You first.”

  “You just want to watch me walk away,” she says with a smirk, heading to the door.

  You’re damn right. I think it, but I don’t say it.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Kaylee

  We get some strange side eye glances from the elevator guards on our way down while carrying all the tacky beach stuff. But to their credit, they never say anything. The best part is, I know that it is annoying Chase and that brings me no small amount of satisfaction. As far as I’m concerned, everything’s going perfectly.

  By the time C
hase and I hit the sand we are huffing and puffing from the effort of carrying it all. Well, mostly him. I have to admit that part of me did it just for the mental image of Chase Covington, billionaire, carrying a bunch of drug store shit and an igloo cooler down to the beach. It makes me smile.

  As I suspect, once we get down there, beachgoers give us dirty looks since this is a swanky resort and not an ordinary city park beach. And also, as expected, the other tourists part like the red sea in every direction as we approach.

  I glance over and see Chase’s brother and sister huddling off to the right of where we are. I get close but not too close, and then put down the stuff I’m carrying.

  “You sure we’re not too close?” he whispers as we set up the lounge chairs and plop the cooler down in between them. I throw the towels onto the chairs.

  “Nope, we’re exactly where we need to be. Your family never notices people like us.”

  It certainly isn’t the concierge-lounge-chair-for-two from yesterday. I will miss the snacks and the cold drinks in the little cooler. There will be none of that today.

  Chase stands and looks around, directly at his family, who make a specific point to not make eye contact with him. “Guess you’re right. It’s like camouflage or something.”

  “Welcome to the middle class. Now lie down.”

  “What? How can the plan seriously involve sunning ourselves?”

  I notice that the worry lines on his forehead are back, making him less attractive. But the effect is cancelled out by the wind messing up his hair, which makes him sexier.

  “Pipe down,” I say. Okay, so I’m enjoying this a little too much. “It’s a good plan. If you’ll just shush for ten seconds, I’ll let you in on the rest of it.”

  I watch with interest as Chase wrestles his tall, muscular frame into the cheap plastic lounge chair. He finally makes it on, but then the chair wiggles perilously under his weight for a moment. It’s touch and go, but then it stabilizes. “Okay, I’m in the chair, as requested, and I think I’ve got the hang of this. Just don’t ask me to get up again.”