Page 47 of Faking It with my Billionaire Grump

When she looks at me, I’m surprised she’s not happier. Instead, she looks forlorn. “Don’t get excited. He only went back for a meeting, or so he told me when he texted me a couple of days ago. He’ll be back. I just know it.”

After dropping Tilly off to see her parents, and her reassuring me that Gerry would bring her back in time to get ready for tonight, I spend the rest of the day dealing with the day-to-day running of the ranch.

My thoughts are awash with our morning conversation. While I already know I don’t like the guy who’s chasing after her, my feelings toward Bryan are now more intense. He’s hurt her; I know he has. Clearly not physically, but he’s broken her heart.

Just like she broke yours.

It’s not the same.

Sure, it is. Maybe karma worked its magic.

Even if that’s the case, it doesn’t give me any satisfaction. Sure, Tilly did me wrong, but I wouldn’t want her to suffer just to appease some need for revenge. I loved her. I only wanted the best for her.

But like my Pops always said,“If it’s for you, it won’t go by you.”

He heard that saying when he visited Ireland in his youth. He liked it, and so, it stuck. Funnily enough, it hasn’t been proven wrong in my case, so I’ve lived by the same motto. When Tilly left, I thought it was something, somewhere trying to tell me that we weren’t meant to be. But now that she’s back, I have to wonder.

She’s running away from a broken relationship. Are you insane?

Maybe I am. Maybe I’m not. I just know that without any effort, she’s made her way back into my heart and mind.

I’m waiting by the truck when Tilly comes flying out of the house.

“Sorry,” she cries.

She’s kept me waiting for twenty minutes, but as I watch her skipping over to me—her tight jeans hugging her slender legs and tucked into her cowboy boots, the vest top covered with an open plaid shirt that’s flapping behind her, and her two braids bouncing in front of her shoulders—I’m too mesmerized to complain.

“Just get in, or we’ll miss the last dance,” I tease.

She sticks out her tongue and then yanks the passenger door open while I climb in on the other side. A waft of her aroma fills the cab, and I have to stop myself from taking a long inhale to breathe her in. It’s a sweet aroma that I haven’t smelled before, but boy, does it do something to my stomach.

“Ready, Mrs. Coulter?” I smirk.

“Ready, Mr. Coulter,” she says, grinning widely at me.

Then I start the truck, and we drive away.

When we get to the hoedown, there are already a hundred or more cars parked on the adjoining field. I wave to Tommy, who’s directing the traffic, and he grins and waves back. We’reprobably the last to arrive, so it won’t be long until he’s inside, enjoying himself.

With the truck parked, we cross the field and make our way to the Big Barn. It’s been called that for as long as I can remember. It used to belong to Jimmy Cane, but sadly, the old man passed quite a few years back.

In his will, the town was surprised to discover that he’d donated the Big Barn and the adjoining field to Baskington so that the annual hoedown could live on in the town’s history. In memory of him, the town grouped together and bought a plaque that sits proudly on the side of the old wooden building.

Outside the barn, there’s a huge marquee, and I can already smell the wafts of barbecued burgers, sausages, and ribs. There are some fairground rides further back, and the squeals of the riders echo across the air.

“This hasn’t changed a bit,” Tilly breathes as we near the barn.

There’s something in her voice that makes me stop and look at her. “You okay?”

She looks a little bashful. “I’m nervous. I haven’t seen everyone in the town yet, and, well…”

“Tilly. It’ll be fine. I’ve already told you. Your past is your past.”

She still doesn’t look certain, and impulsively, I offer my hand. She looks at it, then looks at me, and then at my hand again. After a few more seconds, she puts her hand in mine, and we carry on.

I don’t show it, but the sensation of her soft skin against my calloused palm sends shivers across my body. It’s the same sensation I experienced when I caught her the other day. I felt the sparks between us then, and they’re no less explosive now.

Inside the barn, the muted music we heard outside is ten times louder, and at the other end, the band plays on an elevated stage. There are strings of twinkling fairy lights strung across the highbeams, and the scent of fresh hay mingles with all the other aromas that dance on the air.

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