Page 2 of The Bossy Billionaire's Last Valentine

“Kay?” I ask as she falls in beside me. “Is that your name? And do you run a restaurant? I’m sorry I didn’t ask before. I was distracted by angry teenagers and…bunny tails.”

“Oh yeah? You find my tail distracting?” She leans into the bar, wiggling her incomparable backside and said bunny tail, while I do my best not to drool like an actual big bad wolf.

This costume is starting to feel too warm to be wearing inside. I should get out of it soon—preferably with Kay’s assistance…

“Very distracting,” I say, forcing my gaze to stay locked on her pretty eyes. “But in the best way. Can I get you something? Mulled wine? Spiked hot chocolate? Pabst on draft?”

She grins. “Yes, actually. A Pabst sounds great. Reminds me of my dad. He always has a Pabst after he finishes working in the yard on weekends.”

“So, you grew up around here?” I ask after I’ve placed an order with the bartender for four drafts.

She shakes her head. “No, but not too far away. I grew up in Massachusetts but fell in love with Vermont when I was a kid. We’d come up to my gram’s cottage to visit in the fall and it was so peaceful and nature-rific. I always wanted to move here so seven years ago I finally made the leap.”

“And you’re loving every minute of it?” I ask. “I’m Bran, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you, Bran,” she murmurs, my name on her lips one of the best things I’ve heard in recent memory. “And yes, I love it here. Especially when I meet a super cute sheep in wolf’s clothing at the Moose Festival.”

I laugh. “A sheep in wolf’s clothing?”

She nods, still grinning. “Yep. You look tall, dark, and dangerous, but you buy cranky old men beers and make small talk about penguins. You’re a sweet sheep at heart.”

I shift closer, locking my gaze with hers. “I didn’t start the salmonella conversation, but I think I finished it. I’m not sure what that makes me.”

She laughs, and it’s a delightful sound, genuine and light. “A New Yorker?”

Nodding, I put my hands up. “Guilty as charged.” I want to protest that I do have roots in this town, but I don’t want Kay to know I’m a Ratcliffe until we’ve had some time to talk.

It’s the billionaire burden—never knowing if a woman wants me or my money.

“How’s your friend, by the way?” I ask, remembering she’d mentioned her festival buddy was under the weather.

“She’s better, thanks, she went home.” Kay takes a seat next to me as the bartender doles out the four beers accordingly. She takes a delicate sip of her Pabst. “What’s the weirdest thing anyone has ever said to you in the city?”

“Uh…wow. Where do I start?” I pause and reflect. “Honestly, weird isn’t the right word for it. I mean, I’ve been verbally assaulted by total strangers more times than I can count, but weird? I think Leonard and Nevil’s conversation shifting from moose to cheese to salmonella is definitely way more…unique than anything we’ve got in New York.”

“Unique.” She nods. “That’s one way to put it. When I first moved here, I did a lot of head scratching, but now the weird is definitely part of the charm for me.”

“Hear that?” Leonard says, nudging Nevil. “We’re charming.”

Kay gives them a stern look. “Gentlemen. Eavesdropping isn’t polite.”

“What?” Nevil says, holding his hands out. “I’m not trying to listen but you’re only two feet away. So, keep it PG over there, folks.”

“I suppose he’s not wrong,” she says, turning back to me with a teasing smile. “Better be on your best sweet sheep behavior.”

“Or this big bad wolf can get us a booth in the corner,” I say, swiveling to see if I can spot a more private place to chat. “Right there. Nine o’clock. You can say anything you want in our corner spot.”

“Sounds perfect.”

An hour later, Kay and I have exchanged roommate disaster stories from years past, first date fiascos, and sibling anecdotes, while she nurses her first beer and I finish a second. The conversation is easy, entertaining, and charged with an undeniable tension. As the minutes tick by, we shift closer and closer until the booth feels like our own private, sexually charged, little world.

“Do you need another beer?” I ask, placing my hand over hers on the empty glass. “Looks empty.”

Kay moistens her bottom lip. “That would be great. Just be careful not to get suckered into buying another round for Leonard and Nevil.”

I shrug. “I don’t mind. I’d like to be welcomed around here instead of deemed another useless, city-slicking hipster.”

She laughs. “A hipster? Who called you that?”

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