Page 36 of Faking It with my Billionaire Grump

“It always was,” I say. “You’ve just forgotten.”

She gives me a look that makes my stomach flip. It’s the soft gaze of her eyes that gets me. I also notice that, since my comment the other day, she’s stopped putting that muck on her face. Now, her skin glows, reflecting the bright orange of the sun. She always was beautiful, but in this environment, she looks more alive.

When we reach the field, the herd is lazily grazing, spread across the land and appearing content. Cows are such docile creatures, and for the most part, they don’t give me any trouble. As long as they have something to eat and water, they pretty much look after themselves.

A little while later, when I’m satisfied that the grass in this field will sustain them for a little longer, we head back to the ranch. At the stables, Tilly looks all windswept, with strands of hair that have been tugged loose from her braid. She’s still glowing, and I find myself watching her as she dismounts and leads Clover to the trough for water.

This is only pretend, remember? She’s going to leave you again sooner or later.

It’s nothing I don’t know, and a part of me needs to ready myself for that, and yet, instead of taking heed, I shove my inner voice into a box somewhere in the hope that I can ignore it. I’m a grown man. I can handle it.

Yeah. Right.

“Thank you,” Tilly says, smiling up at me as we head back to the house. “I needed that.”

“You’re welcome. It’s going to get hot soon. You want to work inside with the AC?”

She nods. “Sure.”

“Do you know anything about Excel?” I ask when we reach the porch.

Tilly looks at me like I’ve just grown an extra head. “You use Excel?”

I smirk. “What? You think a cowboy can’t use a computer? You think I run this place by writing everything down on paper? Or maybe I have an abacus tucked away somewhere?”

She giggles then and looks a little bashful. “I… I don’t know what I thought.”

“Jeez, Tilly. You don’t give me much credit, do you?”

We head to my office and I open up the computer. I show her the Excel sheets I have. While she sits at the desk, I’m leaning right beside her, and her scent rises to meet me. It’s an intoxicating, musky smell that is more than distracting.

Concentrate, Jake.

I’m trying. I start telling her that I need all the stock she counted up the other day put into specific columns when Tilly interrupts me.

“I get it. You don’t have to mansplain it all.”

“Mansplain?” I frown. “Is that even a word?”

“It is these days, Jake. It means when a man explains things to a woman when she already knows what she’s doing.”

I shake my head in wonder. “What’s next? Right, well, enoughmansplaining,then. I’ll leave you to it.”

I wish I could say that when I went out to feed the animals, my mind was on my job, but it wasn’t. In fact, Tilly is in my thoughts more and more these days. I wake up with her on my mind, and I fall asleep in the same way. I should be worried. I should be more concerned that my heart is overruling my head. If I’m not careful, I’m going to get hurt again.

And yet, I’m fighting it, telling myself that I’ll be fine. That I can handle it. But in all honesty, I don’t really know if that’s true.

After lunch, we head into town to pick up some animal feed. Of course, Tilly doesn’t need to come with me. In fact, her time would be better spent at that computer, doing the job I hate themost. But I want her with me. I’ve used the excuse that people in the town need to be reminded of our fake relationship so that when the time comes, they can help us get rid of her ex.

This is getting bad, right?

“I need to stop by the hardware store first,” I say, driving into the parking lot. “Do you need anything? Paint? Brushes?” I smirk.

She gives me a sarcastic grin. “Funny. What would I need them for? If I recall, I don’t know one end of a paintbrush from the other.”

I chuckle at her and jump out of the truck. “Be right back.”

A few minutes later, I head back to the truck, but Tilly’s not there. I glance around and see her just coming out of the bakery across the street. I wave, and she waves back, readying to cross the street.

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