Page 7 of Rescued By My Small Town Billionaire

“Smooth so far,” Pete says, checking off something on his clipboard. “Fences are holding up after last week’s storm, and the water troughs are all clean. We’re ahead of schedule on the feed delivery.”

I nod, satisfied. “Good. Let’s keep it that way.”

We go over a few more details about the herd’s rotation and an upcoming auction before I hand off some paperwork and head back toward the house. Ranch work has always been second nature to me, a steady rhythm that keeps my mind focused. But today, no matter how much I try, my thoughts keep drifting to Becky.

She’s in the house with Lulu now, probably keeping an eye on that tiny kitten of hers. B. has a knack for finding trouble—just like her owner, it seems.

By the time I get back, the smell of coffee wafts through the open kitchen window. I step inside to find Lulu sitting at the table with Becky, both of them bent over a pile of papers. Becky’s face lights up when she sees me, a shy but warm smile that catches me off guard.

“Good news,” she says, holding up her phone. “The insurance agent thinks the fire damage is manageable. They’re sending someone out to assess it, but the policy covers most of the repairs.”

“That’s a relief,” I say, leaning against the counter.

Lulu grins. “See? Things are already looking up.”

Becky nods, but her smile falters slightly as her gaze drifts toward the window. Following her line of sight, I spot the kitten bounding through the backyard, her tiny paws kicking up bits of dirt as she explores the garden.

“B.!” Becky calls, her tone laced with worry. She hurries to the back door and steps outside, her eyes scanning the garden.

“It’s fenced in,” I say, joining her on the porch. “She’s not going anywhere.”

“I know,” Becky replies, her voice soft. “But she’s so small. I just… I don’t want to lose her again.”

Her concern tugs at something deep inside me. I watch as she crouches down, calling the kitten’s name in a gentle, singsong voice. B. stops sniffing a patch of wildflowers and darts back toward her, leaping into her arms like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Becky cradles the kitten against her chest, her expression a mix of relief and love. It’s a simple moment, but something about it stays with me.

Later, Lulu corners me in the kitchen while Becky is upstairs getting ready.

“Mike, I need you to take Becky to the florist shop,” she says, her tone brooking no argument. “I need a ride back to the bookstore too.”

“To do what?” I ask, suspicious of her tone.

“She needs to meet with the insurance agent and make plans for the repairs,” Lulu explains, handing me a set of keys. “You’re better at dealing with logistics than I am, and besides…” She pauses, smirking. “It’s a good opportunity to put your fake boyfriend act to work.”

I groan, running a hand through my hair. “Lulu—”

“Don’tLulume,” she interrupts. “You agreed to this. Now go.”

Before I can argue, Becky appears at the top of the stairs, looking hesitant but determined. Her mismatched outfit fromearlier is gone, replaced by a simple floral dress that somehow makes her look even more like she belongs in a fairytale.

“Ready?” I ask, trying to ignore the way my chest tightens when she smiles.

“Ready,” she says softly.

***

After dropping Lulu off at the bookstore, Becky and I head to the florist shop. The damage is worse than I remember—blackened beams, charred counters, and the faint smell of smoke still clinging to the air. Becky stands in the doorway, her eyes scanning the destruction with a mix of sadness and resolve.

“It looks bad,” she murmurs, hugging herself.

“It’s fixable,” I say, my voice firm. “The insurance will take care of it, and the repairs won’t take as long as you think.”

Becky glances at me, her eyes filled with gratitude. “Thank you for saying so. I trust your experience.”

I nod, not trusting myself to say anything else.

She smiles.

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