Page 8 of Rescued By My Small Town Billionaire

“Let’s get away from here,” I offer. “How about a walk?”

Becky slips her hand into mine, and the world seems to pause. Her touch is light, tentative, but it sends a jolt of electricity straight through me.

“Fake boyfriend,” she whispers, her cheeks turning pink.

I squeeze her hand gently, grounding myself in the warmth of her palm. “Got it,” I say, though I’m not sure who I’m reassuring—her or me.

The town is alive with quiet energy, the kind that lingers when people don’t want the night to end. Becky and I walk side by side, the cobblestone streets lit by soft golden lanterns overhead. Shadows stretch across the sidewalks, and the low hum of conversation drifts from diners at the outdoor café tables.

As we pass the town’s antique shop, Becky stops, her gaze catching on something inside.

“What is it?” I ask.

She bites her lip, hesitating before pointing. “That. The little music box in the corner.”

I follow her gaze and spot it—a small wooden box, carved with tiny roses along the edges, the brass key slightly tilted as if it’s been wound a thousand times before.

Before she can protest, I push open the shop door. “Come on,” I say, grinning. “You can’t just stare at it all night.”

With a playful huff, Becky steps inside.

The inside of the shop smells like aged wood and nostalgia. She picks up the music box, carefully turning the key.

“Edelweiss,” she whispers, eyes lighting up in wonder.

I smirk. “Guess it was meant to be.”

She looks up at me, smiling and laughing. And in that moment, I realize—

I could listen to that sound for the rest of my life.

Chapter five

Becky

The sound of murmured voices and soft laughter fills the town square as I walk past the bakery, holding B. snug in her little carrier.

The kitten’s been my constant companion these days, a bundle of comfort and calm in a world that feels like it’s teetering on the edge of chaos.

But the murmurs around me are different today. Instead of the usual chatter about the weather and bake sales, I catch fragments of something else.

“...did you see them at the square yesterday?”

“...holding hands. Looked awfully cozy.”

“Never thought Mike would settle down. Especially not with a florist.”

The words make my cheeks burn, and I duck my head, hoping no one notices. Gossip travels faster than wildfire in a town like this, and apparently, my ‘relationship’ with Mike has become the hottest topic.

I can’t even be mad—it’s not like we didn’t know this would happen. But the weight of the attention is heavier than I expected.

By the time I reach Ellie’s matchmaking service, I’m still replaying the whispers in my head. Ellie greets me at the door with her usual sunny smile, her hair pulled back into a neat fishtail braid. Maggie Ann has stopped by to chat as well.

“Becky!” Ellie says, ushering me inside. “You look adorable, as always.”

“Thanks,” I mumble, setting B.’s carrier down near the desk.

Ellie tilts her head, studying me. “What’s wrong? You look… flustered.”

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