Page 9 of The Guy Who Stole My Ranch

My mother made a tsking noise that said she didn’t believe me.

I wanted to ask Brooke to breakfast. That was a date, wasn’t it? Maybe I was ready to date but not the people my mother wanted to set me up with.

Something sailed over my head, and Frank rushed by in a blur of gray. Brooke must have thrown the ball for him. Why did that make her even more desirable? I turned around to get her attention but found her walking quickly toward a red truck.

I opened my mouth to call out, but my mother was still talking about women and heirs.

At that same moment, Frank returned and started circling me.

Brooke jumped into her truck, and my insides went cold.

Had I just missed the opportunity of a lifetime?

Maybe not. I quickly said goodbye to my mother, much to her chagrin, then sent a text to Victoria.

William:Would you give me Brooke’s number? I’m in Texas and I’d like to call her. Frank wants to see her.

I attached a picture of Frank when he’d been begging for food from my great-aunt Greta. If that didn’t sway Victoria to give up information on her friend, nothing would.

Chapter 3

-Brooke-

The Curvy Girl Crew had stopped talking as soon as I’d started to address William.

Except Victoria, who had said, “William Harris and his dog Frank? What are they doing in your park?”

An excellent question.

Despite my assertation that he was a rich snob, my heartbeat sped up as soon as I saw him, and a blush heated my neck when his eyes took me in.

Thank goodness Frank had been there. He was the sweetest dog and a great distraction.

“You should ask him what he’s doing in Texas,” Victoria said.

“You should bolt,” Jessica said.

I was inclined to do both, but considering I needed to get to the bank and then back to the ranch within an hour, I decided whatever William Harris was doing in Whitehill could remain his little secret. I tossed the ball toward where he stood talking to his mother—seriously, I’d never expected to hear anything but the default ringtone to come from William’s phone—gathered my stuff, rescued my own phone from the ground, and fled.

I’d like to say I walked away slowly and with confidence, but truly, I ran.

I ran from a billionaire whom I’d probably offended the first time I’d met him. A billionaire who shouldn’t have any interest in me, apart from the fact that his dog loved me.

Frank probably loved anyone who would give him a good scratch, but that was beside the point.

“What’s going on?” Victoria asked.

“I’m getting in my truck,” I muttered as I jumped in.

The rest of the Crew fired questions.

“Is this William the billionaire?”

“Was he looking for you?”

“Is he a ranch guy?”

I let them talk as I pulled out of the parking lot, half afraid William, Frank, or both would run after me.

---