Page 1 of The Fake Fiance's Billionaire Adversary
Chapter 1
Stretching his sore arms above his head, Hunter West ignored the snaps and pops his joints were making. He wasn’t even sure why he was still pushing himself like this. A little over a year ago, he’d become a billionaire. That one little lottery ticket had changed his bank account, but not his mindset. As his dad would say, the fruit of a man’s labor is what keeps him young.
Besides, hard work had never bothered him. If anything, he loved flipping houses because it made him feel good to see the finished product and know it was his hands that did it. More importantly, it hid his winnings from the lottery. After seeing what happened with his older brother, Bear, he worked to keep his fortune hidden. Hunter didn’t want the heartache of loving someone only to find out they wanted his money and not him.
As of late, he’d begun to wonder if his mindset didn’t need a little adjusting. The joints in his thirty-four-year-old six-foot frame seemed to be hinting it might be time to call it quits. In Hunter’s case, it wasn’t the age but the mileage that had him thinking about hanging up his hammer and settling down, hopefully in the bed and breakfast he wanted to buy a few miles away.
“Paint’s done,” his partner, Stone, said as he stopped in the doorway of the bathroom Hunter was working on.
Hunter twisted at the waist to ease some of the soreness in his lower back. His shower would be hotter than usual tonight. “Yeah, Ryan told me. You knocking off for the day?” Ryan was their contractor. He’d joined the company three years ago at about the age when Hunter had started flipping houses.
“No. I want to check on that other property we’re doing demo on this week.” His partner’s response wasn’t surprising. They were always working on more than one project at a time.
In a blink, he was back to thinking about the local beachfront bed and breakfast he’d passed more than once since he’d arrived on Tybee Island, Georgia. Talk about a project. That place needed almost as much work as the houses they typically flipped.
According to rumors, The Sandy Pelican B&B wouldn’t survive much longer, and it would be on the auction block. More than once, he’d caught himself fantasizing about what he’d do with the place if he bought it. Did he flip it or restore it? The latter was becoming more and more appealing. Settling down, a wife, kids, and the beach right outside his back door. Retiring from this back-breaking work.
That’s, of course, if he managed to purchase the place. The retiring part of the equation was selling his half of Stone-West Housing. Hunter wasn’t too bad at negotiations. Maybe he’d convince the owner of the B&B to sell it to him before it went under and then approach Stone about what to do with Hunter’s half of the business. He didn’t have to sell it. Winning the lottery gave him the option to keep it and hire someone, but when he retired, he wanted to be retired, not managing a flipping business.
Now, if he had the bed and breakfast, that would be different. Staying put, enjoying island life, and renting out a room now and then…there wouldn’t be the stress of deadlines and permits. It would be just him and his shanty by the sea.
But selling his half of the business was a conversation for another day. “Is something wrong, or are you just checking up on it?” Hunter asked.
“Just making sure the demo is on schedule,” Stone said.
They were a good team, and that’s what made them as successful as they were. Stone was brilliant with demolition and the final touches. Hunter’s skill was everything in the middle. He loved his job, but he had to admit, it wouldn’t take a lot of convincing to give up the long hours and tough physical labor. Something that wasn’t happening before Thanksgiving.
He wouldn’t be skipping this year either. His mother had gone to great lengths to pull a promise from him, and he wouldn’t let her down. Which meant twelve-hour days were in his future. That was the only way he could see this house finished by the time he left.
Hunter checked his progress on the tile and sighed. “Yeah, I guess I’ll clean up here and call it a day. It’s not long before the sun sets.”
Stone left, and Ryan took his spot in the doorway.
“I’m thinking you have questions for me,” said Hunter.
Ryan waited a beat, seeming unsure if he should ask the question. “I was wondering if I could maybe talk to you sometime about how you got into flipping houses. That is, if you don’t mind.”
Chuckling, Hunter began tucking his tools into the bucket he used to keep them together. He had a larger toolbox, but the bucket with pouches on the side worked much better for him on the job site. “No, I wouldn’t mind.”
“Awesome. Thanks. I’ll see you tomorrow,” Ryan said and gave a two-finger salute as he left.
Once Hunter was sure he had all his tools, he took a quick tour of the house and then locked up. Before getting into his pickup, he set the tool bucket on the floor behind the driver’s seat. One of the first things he’d tell Ryan was that leaving tools out was a sure-fire way to lose them to a five-finger discount. Keeping his tools safe would save him countless hours of frustration.
He climbed into his truck and paused for a moment, enjoying the comfort of sitting. Yeah, it was a long, hot shower kind of night. He sighed, starting his vehicle and backing out of the driveway. The sun was just barely peeking over the horizon. It had been another long day.
On the way to his hotel a little farther inland, his thoughts drifted to the picturesque seaside bed and breakfast. When he’d first arrived on the island, he’d missed the cute little place on his drive to one of the worksites. That evening he’d noticed it, though, it had been like a lighthouse, drawing him in.
He’d stopped by, and the owner had assumed he was a guest spending the night. Instead of correcting her, he’d happily followed her all over the home. It had been a little awkward when she’d found out after, but it had been worth whatever lame excuse he’d thrown out at the time.
From what he’d learned, the last big hurricane had really beaten the place up. The paint was peeling. The wraparound porch needed some new boards. In his head, he’d made a list of things to fix inside and tallied the bill. He’d felt it was worth every penny to enjoy the little slice of heaven it would offer.
Not only had the property made an impression on him that day but also the owner, Reagan Loveless. Man, even now he could still remember the shocked look on her face when he’d made an off-the-cuff offer to buy the place after stopping in a few times. It had been the wrong move, even after waiting a while to inquire, and he’d known it the moment her shock turned to anger. The petite woman had pulled back her shoulders, crossed her arms over her chest, and told him it would never be for sale. It had been in her family for decades, and it was going to stay that way.
Since that night, neither the bed and breakfast nor Reagan had been far from his thoughts. Not only was the property appealing, but she was too. Blonde hair that touched the tops of her shoulders, fiery dark eyes. She was the very definition of perfection when it came to Hunter’s ideal woman. Not only was she beautiful, but she had the brain to go with it.
If only he were in the market for a girlfriend, but it wasn’t the right time. Other than money, he didn’t have anything to offer a woman yet. He was still working long days, and his attention was on his business. No, he didn’t have to work, but he wanted to. He’d worked hard to build the company with Stone. Hunter wasn’t quite ready to give it up.
As The Sandy Pelican came into view, he slowed to a stop. A single light cast a glow through the window onto the railing. Reagan was working in the office which was near the kitchen. In a split-second decision, which he’d probably regret later, he turned off the road onto the winding driveway leading to the front of the house, parked, and walked to the steps.
