Page 27 of Faking It with my Billionaire Grump

Yes. I did. What a great guy I am.

“Darn it.”

I run to the paddock and open the gate. I know I’m going to live to regret this, but heck, you only live once, right?

Finn flies like the wind as we thunder cross-country to reach the road. I’m traveling diagonally, and by my calculations, I should reach Tilly before she turns off to head to her mom and dad’s house. Pushing Finn a little harder, he gallops on with his great strength; reaching the fence at the end of my land, I pull on the reins, and he launches over it.

In my peripheral vision, I see Tilly’s truck. The sound of screeching brakes reaches my ears, and a second later, she’s skidded to a stop. Her eyes are wide as she gawks at me through the windshield. Yes, maybe I am mad. I’m pretty certain that’s what she’s thinking at this very moment.

Dismounting, I stroll over to the truck.

“Hey,” I pant when I get there. That ride took some effort.

“Hey,” she says a little breathlessly, part terrified, part confused.

“Alright. I’ll do it.”

Tilly’s jaw falls open, and astonished, she doesn’t seem to have a smart mouth reply to that.

“Come back to the house. Let’s talk it over.”

“Okay,” she squeaks.

She’s already there when I arrive. While I pushed Finn to be able to catch her, I took it easy on our return. I don’t need him injured, too.

Leaving him at the fence, I wave Tilly out of the truck. “Come and keep Elsa company. I’ll go and make us coffee.”

When I return with a cup in each hand, Elsa is sitting at Tilly’s feet while Tilly strokes her head.

“Yes. Super aggressive, that great big wolf is,” I smirk.

Tilly sits up and smiles at me while taking the hot coffee I hand her.

For a minute, we both just sit there and sip our hot drinks. I don’t know what’s going through Tilly’s head, but mine’s running a mile a minute. Was it impulsive, chasing after her and telling her I’d pretend to be her fake fiancé? Maybe. Clearly, even after all this time, I just can’t stand seeing Tilly upset.

I know some who might call me a fool or a doormat. But I don’t see it that way. We have a lot of history together, and at one point, I loved this woman with everything I had. That’s a hard feeling to rid yourself of completely. Today has proven one thing. I don’t think I could ever see Tilly truly in trouble.

“So, how’s this going to work?” I ask.

11

Tilly

While I’m not keenon it at all, Jake makes a suggestion when we’ve finished talking about our newfound relationship status.

“I think we should tell people,” he states plainly.

“What?” I gawk at him. “Are you mad? They hate me already.”

Jake’s face softens. “They don’t hate you, Tilly.”

“Yes, they do. I know they do. As nice as they are to my face—well, some of them, anyway—I can sense their animosity. It’s my own fault, and I get it. But it isn’t very pleasant.”

“How do you know that they hate you?”

“Mel told me,” I reply bluntly.

Jake shows surprise. “Really?”

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