Page 29 of Faking It with my Billionaire Grump

He looks completely affronted by my bluntness, but I don’t care. I have realized in the last few months that it’s the only way to get through to him. He doesn’t understand tact and innuendo, and while sometimes my forthrightness has teetered on downright cruelty, it’s the only thing he seems to respond to.

“How are we supposed to sort things out when you won’t talk to me?” he says.

“I don’t want to sort things out, Bryan. It’s over. I don’t know how many times I have to tell you. In fact,” I continue, feeling my heart thump, “Jake and I are trying again.”

“Oh, don’t talk such trash,” he growls, his face grimacing in disgust.

“It’s not trash. We’re engaged.”

At this point, Bryan seems to lose his composure entirely. “You’re lying,” he yells. It’s so loud that people across the street have stopped to look. “I know exactly what you’re trying to do, and it won’t work.” His eyes then fall to my hand. “Where’s the ring? If you’re supposed to be engaged, where is it?”

I have to think on my feet, but I’m used to that with him. “Jake’s taking me to choose one in a few days.”

Bryan’s face twists in anger. “You’re lying. I know you’re lying. You’re just trying to get rid of me. Well, it won’t work. I’m going to make you see that I can give you far more than that country hick.”

I’m so tempted to throw Jake’s wealth in Bryan’s face, but I know he wouldn’t want that. Instead, I take a deep breath and say, “I have to go. Goodbye, Bryan.”

He’s still standing there when I reach the truck. Even when I drive past him on the road, I don’t look in his direction. While I had put on a brave face while we’d argued, once I’m safely driving away, my heart begins to thump in my chest, and I feel more than a little breathless.

Everything about him distresses me. Everything. That’s why I had to run away in the first place. I would never have broken free of him had I stayed, and even now, I wonder how I’m truly going to rid him from my life.

Denying the engagement is the only way he can retain control, and while he doesn’t believe it right now, maybe when the town makes mention of it to him—over and over again, like Jake hopes—he’ll finally get the message.

That’s the plan. Whether it will work, only time will tell.

A couple of days later, I arrive at Jake’s ranch. In agreeing to the fake engagement, I made the same deal as before—I’ll do whatever he needs me to do. Bringing the truck to a stop, I wonder what delights he has in store for me today. Yesterday, I whiled away my hours doing stock take for all the animal feed.

I was so exhausted after it that Jake told me I didn’t need to come back today until 10:30, and I’m right on time.

It was yet another job Jake hadn’t gotten around to, and when I asked again why he hadn’t employed someone to help him, he elaborated a little more than last time.

“I’ve had a few people help out. Sometimes they’re travelers just passing through; sometimes it’s the local kids wanting a job over the summer. I’ve just never organized anything permanent. When I’m really stuck, Joey, Phil and Chris come over and give me a hand.”

I nearly said that with all the money he had, he could have a range of staff working for him full-time, but I held my tongue. I’ve yet to mention that I know he’s a billionaire. I just don’t feel like I have the right anymore. Maybe once upon a time, but not now.

When I jump out of the truck, I smile over at Elsa, who remains lying down on the porch. We’ve become friends now, which is a great relief to me, and likely less effort for her. She really is beautiful, and when she’s not showing those extremely sharp teeth, I realize that I like her a lot.

I wander past the house, looking for Jake. I can hear the loud thumping of a hammer, so I head in that direction. As I round the corner, though, I stop dead in my tracks. Shirtless, he’s standing at a fence, hammering nails into a plank of wood. With each strike, I can see the huge muscles across his back rippling.

The whole time we were together, he was always strong, and clearly, nothing has changed. The reason my breath is currentlycaught in my throat is because it’s been so long since I’ve seen him half-naked. His deeply tanned skin sparkles with a layer of sweat, and as my eyes move from his wide shoulders to the narrow of his waist, I can’t seem to tear myself away.

“Morning,” he calls when he spins around and sees me.

“Hi,” I croak, swiftly moving forward, pretending I wasn’t standing there gawking at him.

He reaches for his shirt, and pulling it on, he says, “We’re heading out to the market.”

“Did you need groceries? Why didn’t you text me? I could have brought them.”

He smirks at me. “Not that kind of market.”

I frown and shrug.

“You’ll see,” he says. “Come on. Let’s go.”

Much to my surprise, we arrive at a farmer’s market about half an hour later. The place is full of cows, horses, and pigs. As Jake leads the way, I realize that I recognize a lot of the guys here. Many of them are from Baskington. As we pass them by, they say hello to Jake and nod to me.

It’s very noisy and smelly, and I’m only grateful that I wore good boots. I’m already ankle-deep in mud. We pass pen after pen, men calling out bids for animals, just like they do in an auction.

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