Filthy Rich (Mail Order Mountain Men #2)

Chapter Three

Trish

Christopher Becker is, in fact, the man from the ranch. I spent the entire afternoon in detective mode while the kids worked on their history projects. Ethan titled his ‘ Historical Brothels of the West’ and he’s built three lifelike red-light districts with working red bulbs. I think I’m going to have to talk to his parents before the conferences. His fixation is getting to be a bit much.

My phone rings and I pick it up right away, figuring it’s Sasha without looking at the screen. I called her on my lunch break and told her what I’d found, which sent her into detective mode as well. We haven’t had a chance to talk since.

“So… I see why this guy is arrogant.” She laughs as she says, “Does he really look like this in person?”

I roll my eyes and pull up his website again, staring at the man on the screen. He’s wearing a black three-piece suit with his hair combed back and his long beard perfectly managed. There’s something insanely hot about the dichotomy between his business attire and the tattoos that peek out from beneath his button down. “Kind of. I mean, he’s pretty filtered in this, but… yeah. He’s big, tall, bearded, and inked in a suit and tie.”

“Damn, girl. Just go on and humor him. Take him to your sister’s party! Oh my God, it would drive her crazy!”

As much as I’d love to drive my narcissistic sister crazy with envy, I’d never ask Christopher to go with me. “Yeah, that’s not gonna work. Besides, my sister would see right through that.”

“Okay… then do it for me.”

“How is this for you?”

“I’m living through you, Trish. That’s a thing. You go do the dirty, fun stuff I read about, and then report back with every filthy detail.”

“You’ve been stuck in book worlds for too long, Sasha. There’re no filthy details. This man is an arrogant psycho. I bet the money thing isn’t even true. He probably won’t even come back today.”

“I don’t know, girl. I don’t usually read billionaire romance, but this is kind of tracking like that trope.”

“Yeah? And what happens in a billionaire romance?”

“Well, anything can happen, but in the ones where he offers her money for time, he usually solves all her problems, she sees him as a nice guy beneath the money, and they fall in love.”

“Oh, well… it’s almost like it was meant to be then. He did mention that my house needed repairs,” I laugh, “so maybe you should go out with him. I think he’s more your type, anyway.”

She laughs. “Don’t tempt me. I could use a sugar daddy. I have a student loan, a car loan, rent, and an impending vet bill for Cowboy’s back surgery.”

I forgot her dog was having back problems. If this money thing is real, I could really help out a lot of people. A million dollars up here would go a long way.

What am I saying?

“I can’t take this man’s money. I don’t even know what he’d expect for it. What if he wants to have sex?”

Sex. It’s been ages since I’ve had sex. I’m talking… years . Even then, I’m not sure it really counted. I mean, yes, technically, it was sex, but I didn’t come. That said, my clit is throbbing at the thought of coming with a man inside of me, his hands touching me, his deep voice rumbling in my ear.

Why am I imagining that man is Christopher?

“Then you have sex with him,” she laughs. “You have hard, crazy, billionaire sex. The kind of sex you’ll never forget. The kind of sex you’ll randomly think about in the grocery store aisle on a rainy Saturday afternoon long after it’s ended. The kind of kink you’ll flip back on when you’re thirty years deep into a vanilla marriage someday.”

“What makes you think I’ll have a vanilla marriage?”

She laughs. “Well, you won’t have crazy sex with a billionaire, so… I just assume.”

I roll my eyes. I’m not opposed to that memory, but I don’t believe any of this is real. “This has to be a trick. No one would pay that much money for a weekend with me, Sasha.”

“You’re undercutting yourself. You’re smart, sweet, and you connected with someone who appreciated that long before they saw you.”

“And now he has, so he won’t be coming back.”

“Not true. He saw you, then he offered you the money. If he didn’t want to go through with it, he could have pretended to be someone else and walked away.”

“To be fair, he saw me through the glass on the front door. I don’t think he saw my whole body.”

She crunches into something as she says, “Well then, he’s in for a treat.”

I’m one hundred percent sure I’m not the type Christopher goes for in the wild. For one, I’m thick all over, and he’s in great shape. Second, I don’t keep up with my nails, or my hair, or really anything. He looks like he wakes up and straightens his beard with oils. “He’s not my type.”

“He could be, though. It’s just for a weekend, right?” Sasha laughs as she bites into whatever she’s eating again, and I peel a scratch and sniff sticker from the book of fruits and slap a cherry onto Miranda’s math quiz. I’ve barely gotten it stuck down when a knock at the door clenches my stomach tight.

It can’t be Christopher. Maybe it’s the mailman with a late package or the neighbor again. His dog is probably under the porch.

Dragging in a deep breath, I check myself in the hallway mirror, stopping in front of the door when I see that, in fact, it’s Christopher.

Shit!

What the hell? Why did he come back?

Hesitating over the doorknob, I suck in a deep breath and let it out slowly before finally swinging open the front door. It’s the first time I’ll have given him a full view of myself. Well, a view that’s not shrouded by a curtain in the middle of the night. Maybe he didn’t see how many wrinkles I have crowding my eyes these days. “You came back.”

Why did I say that out loud? Could I sound any more desperate?

Today, he wears a pair of dark blue jeans, a black t-shirt, an open red flannel, and a trucker hat advertising the local bar on Main Street.

“How long did it take for you to come up with this costume? You study all the locals?”

He laughs and tugs his hand down over his beard. Lord, the man is gorgeous. “You like the way the locals dress?”

I roll my eyes and ignore his comment. He looks insanely good, no matter what he’s wearing.

“Colorado boy at heart.”

I narrow my brows and fold my arms over my chest. “And I’m a dairy princess. Come on. Be real… what’s your angle here?”

“No angle. I was born and raised on a farm.”

“We talked for two days at the ranch. You never told me that.”

“Didn’t come up.” He swallows hard, and I wonder if he’s full of shit. We talked about so much.

I know about his family where he was closest to his mom, and he’s got two brothers he wishes he saw more. I know he started selling real estate after his parents passed. I know he hasn’t had an intimate relationship in years. I know he has a hard time with feelings and likes to be in control. I know he keeps a gun under his mattress after eating three cookies before bed at night. But the man said nothing about being rich, and nothing about growing up on a farm. He also didn’t mention the size of his hands, the number of tattoos, or the way his eyes pierce straight through people.

“Can I come in?”

For some reason, I hadn’t contemplated him coming into my home.

“That is unless you still have that shotgun by the door. In that case, I should wait out here.” He says it with a grin that’s both sweet and cocky, which sends a signal to my thighs I don’t quite understand.

God, I shouldn’t have agreed to this.

Technically, I didn’t agree to this.

I glance away, then back again before grabbing my jacket off the hook by the door. “We can talk on the porch for five minutes.” I’m not even sure why I’m giving him five. The answer is always going to be no.

He backs up as I step out onto the worn boards that I still need to have replaced along with half a dozen other home improvement projects I’m stalling on. I love this cabin, and I’d never leave, but I could really use that money to make some repairs.

Not his money, though.

“Look,” I hitch my hand up onto my hip, “it’s Friday night. I have papers to grade and a present to wrap for my sister’s birthday party. So, if you don’t mind.”

Christopher brushes his hand down over his beard with a scratch that’s almost soothing. “I remember you talking about that. You were nervous to go alone because your family is a pain in the ass, right?”

I roll my eyes to the side and tighten my arms against my chest. “I don’t need a date.”

“That’s not what you said at the ranch. A week ago, you were all about showing up at that party with someone.”

“That was before I realized how stupid that idea was. Besides, no one would believe,” I draw a line with my eyes between the two of us, “this.”

“Why’s that?”

“Look at you.” I narrow my brows, a little pissed at myself for bringing attention to his obviously fantastic body. He looks good, and he knows he looks good. He doesn’t need me telling him how great he looks. “You’re… you, and I’m… me.”

A moment of silence sits on the porch like an awkward elephant about to sneeze. Finally, Christopher steps forward. Lord, he’s massive. I have no idea how tall he is, but he’s overwhelming. Tall and wide. “You’re being ridiculous. You’re gorgeous and I’d be lucky to stand next to you anywhere.”

“Right.” I laugh and shake my head, stepping out of the cloud of cedar that surrounds him. Of course he has to smell good, too . “Why are you here, Christopher? No bullshit.”

“Oh.” He leans forward and grabs a black duffle bag off the bench by the door. “I could’ve written a check or wired the money, but I figured this looked more impressive.” He unzips the bag and stacks of green bills sit patiently waiting for me to take. “It’s five hundred grand.”

I’ve never seen that much money in my life. For one, I grew up poor. Second, teaching isn’t the most profitable job. I save all year to afford gifts for the kids. What’s left I use to buy the things I need, but every year new problems that can’t be fixed keep piling up. This money could do so much to help us all.

What am I thinking? The money isn’t an option.

“What the hell? You shouldn’t walk around with that much cash. There are all kinds of people up in these mountains.”

“Trust me, I’ll be fine. I’ve carried more in scarier places. Look,” he closes the bag and hands it toward me, “I want time alone with you. We’ll spend tonight together. Tomorrow, I’ll take you to the party, and after that, we’re alone again. By Sunday, you’ll have the rest of the money, and you can decide if I was worth it.”

“Decide if you’re worth it?”

“Yeah.” He glances down at the wood boards before looking toward me again. The bag is now on the porch by his feet. “What we had at the ranch was as close to love as I’ve felt… ever. I wasn’t going to give that away.”

Did he just say love?

“Never?”

“Never.”

He steps forward, crowding my space, leaning me against the outside wall of the cabin. “Let me make this clear. I want you. I knew I wanted you the second you started talking out at the ranch. And last night, when you aimed that shotgun at me, I knew you were the one.”

A smile creeps onto my face as he leans his hand up over my head. Why did he have to do that? My clit throbs and my thighs ache to be touched. I can’t explain it because it doesn’t make sense. Sure, we talked for a couple of days, we had some deep conversations, and he’s hot, but why I suddenly have a feeling of uncontrollable desperation is beyond me.

I’m a grown woman. This shouldn’t be happening. I should be able to control myself by now.

His breath is warm against the lobe of my ear as he flips his hat back and leans in slowly. “Say yes and I’ll take the ache away.”

Oh shit!

My eyes meet his. “What makes you think there’s an ache?”

“Go on and pretend there isn’t.”

My mouth drops open. I’m sure I’m drooling. I’m sure I’m shaking. I’m sure he can smell the excitement dripping onto my panties.

I draw my gaze up to his slowly. My intention is to push him away, leave, and walk inside with my head screwed on right before I make a huge mistake.

Instead, I wet my lips, run my fingers through his beard, squeeze my thighs together, and like the desperate woman I am, I say, “Where should we go?”