Page 16 of The Fake Girlfriend's Billionaire Match
He set the fork down and leaned on the handle. “My dad likes him. Well, he likes country. Guess that’s where I learned to like it too.”
“Nanny played Don Williams more times than I can count. Him and George Jones and Conway Twitty. I wasnotthe most popular kid in school with my music taste.” Winnie laughed, crossing her arms over her chest and casting her gaze to the floor like she was reliving a sweet memory. “She’d turn the music up to the point where it almost rattled my teeth and then would dance with me. I don’t know if it’s the music or the memories I love. Maybe both. I want to do that with my kids one day.”
Talk about things in common. “Me too. I want to be a dad like my dad was to me. Teaching me how to shoot, how to keep my word, and how to treat a woman. I’d catch him dancing with my mom from time to time. It was like they treated life as their honeymoon.”
Lifting her gaze to his, Winnie nodded. “Yeah. I don’t remember my parents being together. I think I would have liked that.”
“I did,” Bear said, putting his pitchfork and wheelbarrow up. “You ready to put fresh hay down?”
“Sure. I like the smell of hay.”
For a minute, he stared at her, wondering what it would be like to meet all of life’s tasks with her next to him. It would certainly make short work of them. The chores had gone by faster than he could ever remember.
When he’d chosen Winnie, it was because she seemed the most down-to-earth. At the time, he’d convinced himself that everything about her was fake, just like Angela. Now, he could see he’d been wrong about Winnie. If he could just…what? Stop Angela from living in his head rent-free? Because she had since the day she left.
That woman had torn him to shreds, and he was still letting her mess with his life. Maybe it really was time to box her up, set her atop a bonfire, and burn her away so he could move on. He couldn’t have Winnie, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t someone out there for him.
Perhaps the new year would be his fresh start. He’d move on and find someone to love. Hopefully, he’d find someone like Winnie. Only, deep down, he knew she was one of a kind. Was there really such a thing as second-best in love? Boy, the next few weeks were going to leave him in an entirely different twisted state. Except this time, the woman would be worth his thoughts.
Chapter 12
Bellying up to the counter next to the sink, Winnie dried the dishes she’d used to fix the turkey as Bear washed them. It was now back in the fridge, all spiced up and ready for the oven later. Since the family did late lunch on Thanksgiving, there was time before she’d need to put it in the oven.
“I think I’m surprised you waited until today to dress the bird. I figured that being a chef, you would have done something…I don’t know, fancier?” Bear shrugged.
“Natalie would have, but this is a mixture of her and my nanny’s cooking. I hope everyone likes it. This will be the first time I’ve cooked for people I don’t know and stayed for the reviews.”
She’d tried to shoo him out of the kitchen because that wasn’t part of their arrangement, but he’d insisted on helping. How could she turn it down when she enjoyed his presence so much?
After kissing her on Monday, he’d avoided her the next two days. Well, not totally. She just saw a pattern that he’d disappear when they were the only two left in a room. All day Wednesday, she’d tried to figure out a way to make things between them normal again.
Then she’d devised the perfect plan. He was a man of his word. If there was one thing he’d understand, it was Winnie sticking to her promise to help him with chores. There was also the issue of the kiss. Once she made it known that she knew it wasn’t a real kiss, she could see the tension lift from him. That was the nail that fixed the whole shebang.
Not that she felt that way at all about their kiss. To her, it was every bit as real as a kiss could be. If she’d had her way, they’d still be right there in her doorway, kissing while the world just hung in suspended animation.
A tiny spray of water landed on her face, and she jumped. “What?”
“I’ve been calling your name.” Bear laughed. “Where did you go?”
Nowhere she was willing to tell him about. “You could have tapped me on the shoulder.”
“With wet hands?” he asked, trying to hand her a plate. “That would have only made you wetter.”
“Maybe, but,” she dipped the tips of her fingers in the water and flicked them at him, “that makes us even.”
His jaw dropped open as he set the plate on the counter. “I was trying to get your attention.” He flicked her twice more in rapid succession.
All right. One flick, fine. Two flicks, less fine. Three? Oh, that was a declaration of war. She cupped a little of the water in her hand and flung it at him.
He tried to deflect it with his arm, and while it missed his face, some of the soap bubbles got in his hair. His eyebrows knitted together, and his lips turned down. “You’re getting my hair messed up.”
She covered her mouth with the back of her hand, laughing as he raked his hand through his hair. “Your hair is fine. It’s just a little water, right?”
For a heartbeat, he held her gaze, and she could see the mischief twinkling in his eyes. He cupped some water in his hand and splashed it at her. Only his hands were larger than hers, so it was more like getting caught in a downpour. “Not fair!”
“Totally fair. You used your hand, and I used mine.”
“Your hands are bigger.”
