Page 53 of The Billionaire and the Runaway

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After my appetizer of tasting every square inch of Ariana, we decided to order a pizza. I made us a salad to go along with it and some garlic bread. Ariana insisted on a carpet picnic in the family room. So we’re semi-dressed, eating pizza, and talking. Everything about this is perfect, just like she is. But deep down, the longer I let myself enjoy this, the more nervous I get that I won’t be able to make it last, that I’ll let those feelings I keep hiding away take over.

“What’s wrong?” Ariana asks, pulling me from my thoughts.

I’m not remotely ready to talk about what’s actually bothering me, so I go the farm route instead.

“I have an offer for the farm,” I state.

It’s her turn to be surprised. “What?” she asks, setting her pizza down and wiping her swollen lips that were just wrapped around my cock an hour ago. I have to take a deep breath to focus.

“A company is interested in making a subdivision out here. They reached out to me a few days ago with a rather impressive offer,” I explain.

“Are you actually considering selling the farm?” she asks, her eyes wide.

I shrug. “I mean…I need to at least consider it,” I say because it’s true. It’d be bad business not to.

“But…we have the re-opening and all the other plans and what about your staff? This is, like…their whole life,” Ariana says defensively. I love that she doesn’t ask about herself but only cares about the others.

I reach over and place a hand on hers, squeezing it. “I know. And I wouldn’t even consider the offer until after this quarter. I want to see how we do with all of these changes. I’m hopeful, but I also need to be realistic. I could still keep some of the farm and land. I wouldn’t sell the entire thing, but it would provide capital to make what’s left better or at least float us for a while. Eventually, Buck, Earl, and Joy will retire, you know?” I point out, hating the words even as I speak them. I can’t imagine life without those three. They’ve been part of mine since I was a kid. They are more than employees and colleagues, they are family. I’m sure my father would offer them nice retirement packages, but so would I.

“I don’t think you should,” she states emphatically.

“Noted. I don’t want to, but again, I need to be realistic. This place…I love it, but it’s also a money pit. Something is always wrong and broken. I can keep throwing my money into an open fire here, or I can cut my losses and keep what I can,” I explain. Dad always taught me to try and separate money and emotions. I admit, I’m not great at it, not as great as he is. He once sold off some of the farm to another farm up the road to help us float through two bad years of crops. He could have paid for the losses, but he said it was bad business to keep those fields because they wouldn’t be good for planting for years and the other farm had livestock and could use them. On the other hand, though, this town is my home, and part of me wants to drain my accounts trying to keep a piece of it going as long as I can.

“I understand that, but please consider keeping it. We can keep coming up with more ideas. I’ll work on some,” she says, her eyes so honest and true. I love that she wants to help, and I hate that she doesn’t know everything about me. I should tell her about Tori and my past, but I need more time. More time to figure out if I can even be the man she needs. I want to protect her, but again, I’m left wondering if protecting her from me is more important than protecting her from anything else.

CHAPTERTWENTY-ONE

Ariana

My phone pings and I look down. I’m expecting calls or texts from a half dozen people as the re-opening is approaching. But instead, it’s a video call from my brother, Sam.

“Hey,” I say as I accept it.

“Hey, how’s life?” he asks. I feel sort of bad. I haven’t spoken much to him or Lucas in the past few weeks.

“It’s going. How are things?” I ask as I save some graphics for the re-opening and email one of the local artists.

“It’s fine. I heard Mom talking to your dad again,” he says, lowering his voice as if he might be heard.

I stop what I’m doing and stare at him. “What’d she say?” I ask.

“It’s not what she said, it’s what he said,” Sam answers in a hushed voice.

I wait for him to continue.

“He thinks you’re just…what were his words…”

“Trying to prove a point,” Lucas says as his face comes into view. “Hey, Ari.”

“Hi, Luc-puke,” I tease, using a nickname I gave him as a baby.

He rolls his eyes. “Anyhow, Mom agreed with him that your...what did he call it?” Sam asks Lucas who groans.

“So-called job,” Lucas states.

“Right, your so-called job is short term and you’ll be home soon and can work for him. He wants to have you do some sort of event planning or something like that. Anyhow, it sounded super boring. Just thought you should know. Oh, and his girlfriend, Kimberslut, she totally told him your job is not real and you’re just trying to chase a guy or something,” Sam says.

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