Page 34 of The Fake Fiance's Billionaire Adversary
“Really? So I’m supposed to trust you, but you can’t offer me the same?” She finished stacking the papers and set them on the nightstand. “That’s not how it works.”
Hunter felt gut-punched. “It’s not that I don’t trust you.” He did trust her. It was just that…he hadn’t wanted her to know about the money. How could he know she wanted him, just him, if she knew about it?
“Right.”
“That’s the truth.” But even as he said it, he could hear the doubt in his own voice. If he were honest, it went beyond his doubts about her interest in him. Reagan finding out about the money bugged him, and he didn’t know how to make it stop.
She glared at him, took a deep breath, and said, “I just wish I hadn’t spent the money you gave me for Black Friday. If I could take the gifts back without making your family suspicious, I’d return everything.”
“Reagan—”
Holding her hand up, she stopped him. She pinched the bridge of her nose. “You know what? Things worked better when you were on your side and I was on mine.”
He nodded, unable to give a reason why it didn’t have to be that way. “All right, I can respect that.” As much as it bothered him that she knew about his money, this upset him even more.
Taking her hand again, he said, “Listen, you have every right to be angry with me right now. I accept that, but I know some roofers on Tybee, and one owes me a favor. Would you be upset if I had them work on it?”
For a moment, she seemed to weigh his proposal, and then her body sagged. “I want to refuse, but…I can’t see how I can make all of the repairs. I hate it. I don’t want your money. If I could get back to the island, I would have already gone home.”
Man, he’d messed things up good and proper. “I know, but with the evacuation order still in place, you can’t. There’s no power to the island and nowhere to stay even if you could get back on the island. Christmas is coming. Can we call a momentary truce?”
Just as he was beginning to think she’d tell him to go jump in the lake, she sighed. “Yeah, but from this point forward, I’m pretending.”
“I know,” he said and stood. “I’d like to take care of the roof, okay? I’ll call my friend, use the favor he owes me, and have the bed and breakfast first on the list. No strings attached, just…because I want to.”
Reagan nodded, drawing her knees to her chest and laying her head on them. “Okay, but I’m not taking any more of your money. I’ll figure out a way to pay you back.”
That wasn’t a response from someone who was out for his money, and it made him want to help her more, to make it right. “I don’t doubt that, but there’s no need.” With that, he left her and walked out of the room, shutting the door behind him.
Hunter raked his hand through his hair. Two battles were waging. On one side, he missed Reagan. On the other side, he didn’t want to get hurt. Both were giving him a headache, and both were equally valid—at least, in his mind.
His mom appeared at the top of the steps, bundled in jeans and a thick coat, and hooked a finger for him to follow her. He knitted his eyebrows together and headed her way. When he reached her, he said, “Is something wrong?”
She lifted one lone eyebrow and gave him one of her signature mom looks:You and I are about to have a talk.It was the one she reserved for when they’d really messed up, she knew it, and there was no getting out of it. Lumps were coming, and the only thing to be discussed was the force with which they were applied.
He followed her until they were outside on the porch.
She turned to him. “Park it,” she said, pointing to the rocking chair.
Based on the tone of her voice, his rear was going to be leather by the time she got done with him. “Yes, ma’am.”
She pulled one of the other rockers closer and set it across from him. “You must think I’m pretty stupid.”
What on earth was this kind of chewing? “I do not.” This conversation was starting off horrible.
“Did you really think you could lie to me?”
His eyes widened. “Uh.”
Her lips pinched together, and she leaned forward on her elbows, staring at him. It was worse than a police interrogation, but he wasn’t a kid anymore. He wasn’t giving up anything voluntarily.
Minute after minute, the staring contest went on. If it weren’t so chilly, sweat would’ve been dripping down his face. He shifted in his seat, and the unease grew until he blurted, “Fine. I’m not really engaged to her.”
His mom smiled. “Want to know how long I’ve known that?”
“Uh.” Really? Again? Apparently, when he was in Caprock Canyon, his vocabulary took a vacation.
“Since the second I met her.” She enunciated each word.
