Page 11 of Faking It with my Billionaire Grump

“What?” I shrug.

Now all three of them glance at each other, like there’s some conspiracy I’m not in on. But they also looked worried.

“Are you going to tell me?” I press.

“Tilly’s back,” Phil says.

“I know. I saw her at the grocery store.”

Relief seems to flood through them, and I can feel the tension release as they all start breathing out.

Chris grins. “Well, thank the Lord for that. We thought we would have to comfort you all night.”

I shake my head and lift the beer Joey bought, ready for my arrival. “Come on, guys. She comes to see her parents all the time. What’s the big deal?”

And then the tension suddenly returns, and the guys are glancing at each other again. It’s Joey who steps forward this time.

“She’s not back just to visit her parents, Jake. She’s back for good.”

It’s a good thing I swallowed my beer or Joey would be wearing it.

“What?” I blurt.

“She split up with her boyfriend in the city,” Joey says.

Phil nods. “Apparently, she’s running away from a bad breakup.”

“Huh,” I say, still in shock. “Seems to be a pattern for her, right? Running away when things go south.”

We play pool, and after talking about Tilly for a little longer, the boys do their best to keep me distracted. But when I get back to the ranch, I have no choice but to face the fact that Tilly Collins is back in Baskington, and there is not a darn thing I can do about it.

A couple of days later, I drive into town and head for the hardware store. I’ve got some fencing I need to secure before my cows end up halfway across the country.

I wave a hand to George as I enter, but he glares at me, jerking his head across the store. When I turn, I see Tilly standing with her back to me, looking at a shelf of paint. I can’t do this again. Without a sound, I nod and turn to leave. I nearly get away with it, too.

“Jake,” Johnny Fredericks calls out as he enters. “I’ve been meaning to call the ranch.”

At hearing my name, Tilly turns to look.

Great.

I can’t leave, so I’m trapped here, having to listen to Johnny go on about his cattle. He’s a good man, but he could talk the hind leg off a horse. While he’s talking, Tilly comes to the counter with two large tins of paint, which she’s obviously struggling to carry.

Eventually, Johnny heads off, leaving me there to face her. That anger I’ve been struggling to suppress raises its ugly head again, and I can’t help myself.

“I hope that’s for your dad,” I say, nodding to the paint. “You wouldn’t know one end of a paintbrush from the other.”

She scowls at me. “You know nothing about me.”

“Well, there’s a good reason for that, right?” I spit back.

She growls again, pays for the paint, and bids farewell to George, completely ignoring me.

George gives me a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry, Jake.”

“Hey. It’s fine.”

I turn to the shelves and grab what I need, then wave goodbye to George and make my way back to the truck. I’m surprised and wary to see Tilly hanging around her dad’s truck, like she’s waiting for something.

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