The Billionaire's Cowboy Groom (Sweet Billionaires Book 4) Read online

  Carrie led the way down the hallway and opened the doors to the reception area. It was decorated with white lights and tulle. White roses nestled in green foliage covered every tabletop and large windows granted expansive views of the city. The elegance, though understated, permeated the room. Gwen‘s personality shone through in every simple touch.

  “Wow,” Peyton said beside Carrie. “It looks like a princess lives here.”

  Carrie nodded. “Her wedding planner was pretty amazing, but I think most of this was Gwen’s idea. I’m guessing that’s our table up there on the stage. Shall we go find a seat?”

  “Yes, please,” Alyssa said. “I would love to get out of these shoes.”

  By the time they sat down, the rest of the guests were making their way in. Philippe joined Carrie at the head table. “That was a nice ceremony.”

  “It was.” Carrie stared at him a moment wondering if he ever imagined what their wedding might look like.

  “Ladies and gentlemen.” The DJ’s voice interrupted her moment, “please welcome for the first time Mr. and Mrs. Devonshire.”

  The room erupted in clapping and cheers as Gwen and Drew walked over to their table. As soon as they sat down, the waiters began bringing out the dishes. Carrie only picked at the delicious food, afraid if she ate too much that she would bust the seams on her dress. It was already getting uncomfortable just from sitting.

  When the bride and groom finished eating, Scott and Carrie each gave their toast, and then Gwen and Drew danced their first dance.

  “Come on.” Carrie grabbed Philippe’s hand when other couples were invited to the floor. This was the moment she had waited for. Carrie loved dancing and Philippe would never indulge her, but surely, he wouldn’t say no at a wedding. It was expected guests would dance at a wedding.

  “I don’t dance,” he said with a shake of his head. “I’ve told you that before.”

  “I understand, but it’s my best friend’s wedding. I want to dance at her wedding.”

  “Two left feet.” He pointed to the floor. “Don’t like making a fool of myself.”

  “But what about our-” Carrie snapped her mouth shut. She had been about to ask him about their wedding and he hadn’t even proposed yet. She must be caught up in the wedding fever.

  “Our what?” he asked.

  “Nothing, I’m going to grab some punch.” She turned away before the hurt expression on her face displayed her true feelings. If they did marry, would he not dance with her? Surely, he would make an exception for his own wedding.

  “May I have this dance?”

  Carrie looked to her left to see Max staring at her with his hand outstretched. “No, it’s fine, really.”

  “Come on, Alyssa sent me over here. She’s too pregnant to dance. Besides, it might help your man see what he’s missing.”

  Carrie glanced over at Alyssa who smiled and shot her a thumb up sign. “Okay,” she said with a laugh. “If it’s all right with Alyssa. She’s a pretty amazing woman.”

  Max situated her in his arms when they reached the dance floor. “Don’t I know it. She’s way too good for me. You know, I never expected I’d marry. I was rather like you - a serial dater, though I wasn’t as nice about it. I was pretty awful to the women I dated.” He spun her around. “My point is that if I can find love, you can too.”

  “Thank you.” Carrie smiled up at him. He might not have started out a kind man, but he certainly was now.

  After Max, she danced with Scott, then Drew, then random guests who came and asked her. It almost seemed as if they were keeping her busy to distract her from remembering her own date’s refusal to dance, but Carrie didn’t mind. Before she knew it, it was time for the bouquet toss. She lined up with the other women, and Gwen’s aim was as true as her word. The bundle of flowers landed squarely in her hands.

  “I told you,” Gwen said before she was whisked away.

  Carrie smiled and then turned to Philippe. She almost laughed at the pained expression on his face as she held up the bouquet. It was a silly tradition, but she couldn’t help hoping that maybe catching the bouquet would turn things around for her. With all her friends married or getting married, she was starting to long for that solid foundation as well.

  Chapter 2

  “Carrie, you are not going to believe this.” Excitement filled Gwen’s voice as she burst through Carrie’s boutique door.

  Both Sierra’s and Carrie’s head shot up at the outburst. Carrie dropped the paper she was sketching on and rushed to her friend throwing her arms around her. “Gwen, you’re back. I’ve missed you so much.”

  Gwen laughed as she returned the embrace. “It’s only been two weeks, Carrie.”

  “I know, but I’ve been so bored without you here.”

  “Hey,” Sierra piped up from the back of the store where she was working on an alteration. “What am I? Chopped liver?”

  Carrie flashed an apologetic glance toward her assistant. “Sorry. I’ve just missed my best friend.”

  “Well, I doubt boredom will plague much longer. Did you see this?” Gwen held up the paper clasped in her hand.

  Carrie took it and scanned the page. Her eyes widened as she read the headline. “The wealthy elite may have found their next Vera Wang in Carrie Bliss?” She sped through the rest of the article which highlighted Gwen’s and Drew’s wedding and included a large picture of Gwen’s dress. Underneath it was an entire paragraph dedicated to Carrie and her business. She looked up at Gwen. “When did this run?”

  “A few days ago. Are you telling me you really hadn’t seen it?”

  Carrie shook her head. She rarely read newspapers or even watched the news. “No, but my phone has been ringing off the hook with orders since yesterday. I guess this explains it. I’m going to need to hire another few seamstresses to help me sew all these dresses.”

  “Yes, please,” Sierra’s voice carried from the back.

  “Carrie that’s amazing. I bet you’ll hit billionaire status before the end of the month.”

  Carrie hadn’t even made that connection. It was what she wanted more than anything in the world, but she thought it would still be a few more years in the future. She’d only been a multi-millionaire for a few years. However, with Gwen’s wedding dress splashed all over the page and her name listed as the designer, perhaps she would hit it sooner than she thought.

  “We should celebrate,” Carrie said. “Do you think Drew will let me pry you away from him for dinner tonight?”

  Gwen smiled. “I‘m sure he could use a break from me, but what about Philippe? How are things on that front?”

  “Same as ever.” Carrie shrugged. “I finally find a man I might want to commit to and he has no desire. Always the way, right?”

  “I’m sure he’ll get there. Sometimes, it takes men a little longer to realize what they have.” Gwen squeezed her arm and offered a sympathetic smile.

  “Yeah, you’re probably right,” Carrie said. The phone began ringing again behind her, and she sighed. “You know what? Let’s start the celebration early.”

  “What about your orders?” Gwen asked indicating the ringing phone.

  “Let Sierra get it. It’s partly what I hired her for.” In truth, she had hired Sierra to help her sew, but answering phones had been a small part of her job description. Today, it would just be a larger part. She would need to get more help started soon.

  “Okay, if you’re sure. I would love to catch up.”

  “And tell me all about the honeymoon.” Carrie ducked behind the counter to grab her purse. “Sierra, I’m heading out for the day. Don’t forget to lock up.”

  Sierra, phone to her ear, shot Carrie a look of frustration but waved. Carrie would have to do something nice for Sierra after leaving her with all the work today, but she so wanted to catch up with Gwen.

  “Well, I’ll tell you some of the honeymoon, but I’m keeping some parts to myself,” Gwen teased as they exited Carrie’s boutique.

  * * *

/>   Cal sighed and raked a hand through his hair as he stared down at the bill. Even if he sold half his cattle, he would only buy himself a few months. He needed a miracle and he needed it soon.

  “Not good news, huh?” Stacy’s voice carried across the room and he turned to see her leaning in the doorway.

  “No, it’s not. That sickness last year hit us hard. We don’t have nearly the herd we would have had this year if half of them hadn’t been wiped out.”

  “So, what are you going to do?”

  Cal let out his breath and shook his head. “I have no idea. I’ll sell half of what I have, see if I can get an extension on the loan, and pray.”

  “Cal, I know you don’t want to think about it, but Ginny’s family is wealthy. Maybe if you-”

  Cal cut her off before she finished. “I’m not doing it, Stacy. I will not court a woman just for her money. Besides, I’m still married, and I’m not giving up on her yet.”

  Concern filled Stacy’s eyes. Cal knew she worried about him. She was already married and had a wonderful family, and he… he was still waiting. Waiting for a woman who might never come around. But right now that was a good thing. He didn’t need any added distractions while he thought about how to save his ranch.

  “All right, Cal. Well, will you come to dinner? Annie and Trevor miss their uncle.”

  “I’ll try, Stacy. I’ve got a lot to do today.” He needed to check on the cattle and the fence to make sure there were no weak spots. Cal certainly couldn’t afford to lose any more cattle. Then perhaps he would ride over to The Morrison ranch to see if the fellow rancher might be interested in a trade. If he could save on the price of hay, another month of payment might be possible. It wasn’t much but it might give him time to come up with another plan.

  The concern on Stacy’s face deepened. “Don’t work too hard, Cal. There’s more to life than the ranch.”

  Maybe for her - she had the general store to fall back on - but Cal was born to ranch. He was happiest when he was on his horse with the sun shining down on him. Yes, he could probably find another job where he rode, but it wouldn’t be the same. There was something about owning your own piece of land that he would miss if he was forced to sell it.

  “I’ll come by soon. I promise.” He grabbed his hat off the desk and gave her a hug before continuing to the back door.

  The warm air kissed his face. Cal scanned the horizon, but the sky was clear. There would be no rain today. With a sigh, Cal continued to the barn and saddled up his favorite horse, Ginger. Her coat was the color of chocolate - more brown than red, but he couldn’t bring himself to name her Chocolate when he bought her six years ago, so he’d picked Ginger. She had been his first purchase when he took over the ranch, and he probably shouldn’t have bought her. Buying her sent him upside down the first year, and he had yet to recover fully, but she was worth the cost as far as he was concerned.

  “All right, girl, let’s go for a little ride, shall we?” He walked her out of the barn and shut the door. Then with a graceful ease, he swung himself onto the saddle. The hard leather of the saddle didn’t mold, not really, but he felt like it did. In the saddle was where he belonged and there was always a sense of coming home when he mounted up.

  He led Ginger along the north side of the property first. The Morrison ranch was to the south, so he might as well save it for last. His eyes scanned the fence as he continued down the line. It appeared to be in decent shape, but it ought to - the snow the previous winter had buckled several pieces of wood and he’d had to replace a good portion of the fence. That had been another unseen expense especially as Soda Spurs didn’t get snow that often.

  Satisfied the fence was in good condition, he turned his attention to the herd. There were too many to count individually, but he had learned a long time ago to scan the herd and visually identify ten to twenty at a time. It wasn’t a perfect count, but it was one he could do daily and be fairly accurate. He did a more thorough count once a week.

  When he was confident no cattle were missing, he scanned the grass. It was looking a little thin on this side. He’d have to move the herd soon and hope for rain. If he could just catch a break, he might be able to start turning a little profit.

  Cal urged Ginger toward the south fence. He’d worry about the grass tomorrow. Right now, he needed to finish checking the fence. The wood on this side also appeared in good shape, so he led Ginger off his property and over to Don Morrison’s ranch.

  Cal found Don working with a new colt in his corral. Frustration creased the older man’s face, and a stiffness filled his posture.

  “Hey, Don, you got a minute?” Cal asked as he pulled Ginger to a halt.

  Don looked up and smiled. “Sure, Cal, I need a break from this guy anyway.” He led the colt back to the barn and Cal dismounted. A few minutes later, Don returned. “So, what can I do for you?”

  “That illness last year hit my herd pretty hard. I was hoping perhaps you might be interested in a little trade to save money. I could break that colt for you if you have extra hay or grass.”

  Don rubbed his chin as he considered the offer. “This one is being more difficult than normal. I could save some time if I wasn’t having to break him. All right, Cal, you got yourself a deal.”

  “Thank you, Don.” The two men shook hands and exchanged small talk for a little longer before Cal bid him goodbye and returned to his ranch. It wasn’t a permanent solution, but he would take all the time he could get.

  Chapter 3

  Carrie stared at the paper in her hand. Wow, that happened quickly. The story on Gwen’s dress ran only a week ago, and while orders had quadrupled, Carrie hadn’t expected her wealth to increase with such speed. Still, it pleased her. She felt... secure for the first time in a long time.

  It was stupid really. She had always been wealthy; her father had been a millionaire. He even gave her a trust fund to get her shop started, but shortly after college, her father had been diagnosed with cancer. The resulting medical bills wiped out his money and as her mother was a homemaker, there was no income coming in to offset them.

  Carrie offered to sell her boutique to help out, but her father refused. He hadn’t beaten the cancer, but his life insurance policy had at least allowed her mother to keep the house she’d lived in for the last thirty years. Carrie promised herself then though that she would be richer than her father. She wasn’t sure a billion dollars would protect her from facing the same fate, but it made her feel better.

  The bell above the door jingled and she looked up and smiled. Philippe stood in the doorway. He flashed her a wicked, sexy smile and strode her direction.

  “Are you ready for dinner, Chéri?” She loved his French accent and the fact he called her Chéri. It didn’t hurt that he was devastatingly handsome either.

  “Yes, just let me grab my purse.” Carrie folded the paper and shoved it in the drawer under her register. She would have to show Gwen later and thank her.

  After ducking into the back room to grab her bag and coat, she stopped by the sewing room to inform Sierra and the new hires she was leaving for the night. Then she returned and linked her arm through Philippe’s.

  “Where are we going tonight?” Carrie asked as they stepped out into the crisp evening air. Winter seemed to be hanging around a lot longer this year though no more snow was predicted. Carrie longed for spring. She detested winter, except for Christmas of course. Maybe it was because she got cold too easily or perhaps it was her love of wearing short sleeves and skirts - neither of which were practical in the cold New England winters.

  “Someplace special.” He opened the door of his silver BMW for her and she slid in relishing the feel of the leather seats. While she enjoyed having a driver, she liked that Philippe drove his own car. Sometimes it was nice to do things for yourself. She hoped that wouldn’t change now that she was officially a billionaire. Though they were trying to break the stereotypes, Gwen often shared some of the crazy requirements that Drew faced as a billiona
ire.

  “Oh, yeah? What’s the occasion?” Carrie didn’t dare to hope that he would be proposing - it was probably still too soon - but that would be a nice occasion. Philippe seemed to fit the bill of the perfect man in her head, and while most of her relationships lasted a month or less, she could envision herself with Philippe. He was driven, nice, and he attended church with her.

  “You’ll see,” he said and flashed her a wink as he started the car.

  A few minutes later, they pulled into an upscale Italian restaurant. Carrie bit her lip as disappointment surged through her. While she loved Italian food, she avoided it most of the time to keep her trim figure. Philippe knew that, or she thought he did. Plus, he was French. Why wouldn’t he take her to a French restaurant? Well, she supposed the restaurant would have a salad.

  “Come on,” he said as he turned off the ignition and opened his door.

  Carrie’s lips pulled into a tight smile as she unbuckled her seatbelt. She pushed open her side and took his hand when he offered it.

  Philippe held the restaurant door open, and they stepped into the quaint building. The sweet smell of tomatoes and garlic and bread floated on the air. Carrie tried not to inhale too deeply. Just sniffing bread always seemed to put five pounds on her. Instead, she focused on the intricate artwork on the wall that displayed a vineyard and an Italian chateau. The designer had even added lines to make it appear cracked and faded giving it a charming vintage look.

  “Hello, we have reservations under Caron,” Philippe said as he approached the hostess, a smart looking blond in black pants and a pressed white shirt.

  “Very good, sir. Follow me.” She led the way toward the back of the restaurant to a small booth lit by candlelight and a small lamp attached to the wall. Curtains hung around the booth giving it an extra measure of privacy.

  “This is nice,” Carrie said as they sat. The hostess handed them menus and then as if sensing they wanted to be alone, she turned and walked away.