Page 4 of Faking It with my Billionaire Grump

“Oh, I’m so—”

I halt and just stare ahead of me. It’s like my mother manifested him out of thin air, for there before me stands Jake Coulter.

2

Jake

We’re in the stables,and Mr. Reynolds is down on one knee, taking a long look at Greta. When I was riding my mare over the land yesterday, she hit uneven ground and jolted me so hard that I was nearly flung from the saddle. That takes some doing. At nearly six feet tall, I’m a big guy. Apprehensive of the damage she’d done to herself, I walked her back, which took a while, but I didn’t mind. My legs are just fine.

But now I’m worried.

The vet beside me has looked after my animals for nearly ten years; he did the same for Dad when he was still alive. He’s been there for me many times, whether it’s been difficult births, injuries, or the animals needing inoculations. I know this man.

He’s creeping into his sixties, his white hair thinning a little, but he’s strong. He’s a few inches shorter than me—most people are—but he’s broad and looks after himself. I also know when he thinks there’s a problem, even if he is trying to hide it.

“It’s bad, right?” I say, lowered on my haunches beside him.

“It isn’t good, Jake. But I’ve given her a shot, which will help with the pain. Let’s see how she goes. I might be getting ahead of myself, and she might be just fine.”

I stand then, and resting my hands on my hips, I heave a sigh.

“Hey.” Marty stands and looks at me. “Let’s not jump the gun, okay? In twenty-four hours, we’ll know more.”

For a man who runs a ranch, I get far too attached to my animals. I know that. But I suppose that’s why I love what I do. These wonderfully powerful beasts make my day better, and against plenty of advice, I’ve named every one of them. And there are a lot.

When he’s finished, I walk Marty to his truck. He takes a long look around the acres of property that surround us, and he smiles and shakes his head. “You’ve done a great job here, Jake. Your father would have been proud.”

Marty and Dad were good friends.

I glance up to the sky. “Maybe he still is.”

“Maybe you’re right.” He nods with a slow smile.

Dad bought this place before my brothers and I were even born. It was far smaller then, but we grew up helping Dad with the land. Mom died when we were all still in school, and I think the ranch helped each of us with our healing in one way or another.

When he was old enough, my older brother, Cal, went off to make his fortune. He was the smart one of the family. He now lives over a thousand miles away with a booming business in real estate. Something he taught me after his own success. Joey married young. He’s my younger brother. He still lives in Baskington, but after he moved out, there was only me and Dad.

Both of my brothers knew I’d inherit the ranch. Dad left them some money, but there was never any doubt in my mind that this is what I wanted to do. A lot has changed since then, though, and the ranch is now five times bigger than it was. That’s mainly dueto Cal teaching me how to make my money work for me and the fact that my portfolio includes far more real estate than just the ranch.

Marty still hasn’t moved, and he’s looking at me curiously, like he wants to say something.

“Spit it out, Marty; it’ll be dark soon.”

He chuckles and shakes his head. “I’m just thinking how nice this place would look with a Mrs. Coulter. You’re in your early thirties, Jake. I thought you’d have found yourself a nice girl to share all this with by now.”

I shake my head. “I’ve got everything I need right here. I’ve got my horses, my cattle, my pigs, and my land. They keep me busy enough. Besides”—I smirk—“I like the quiet.”

Marty grins, but I can see he isn’t convinced. “Still,” he says, “a good woman could be the making of this place. No man is an island, Jake.”

I smirk as he quotes John Donne to me. Yes, I know I might look like a cowboy with my boots, hat, and muscular build, but believe it or not, I can read, too. Go figure.

At that moment, Elsa, my trusty German shepherd, comes to sit at my heel. She’s been my constant companion since she was a pup. She’s that well-trained; I hardly need to give her commands anymore.

I nod down at her. “There’s only one lady in my house,” I reply. “Besides, I can’t have Elsa getting jealous now, can I?”

The older man laughs again and then shakes his head. He reaches out a kind hand and strokes Elsa’s huge head. “No, you sure can’t.”

Once he’s climbed into the truck, Marty hooks an elbow on the door and looks back at me. “I’ll call over again tomorrow and see how Greta is doing. Just keep her comfortable.”

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