Home > The Billionaire's (Not So) Fake Engagement : Benton Billionaire Romance(9)

The Billionaire's (Not So) Fake Engagement : Benton Billionaire Romance(9)
Author: Kimberly Krey

“I’d like to help you bury it, if that’s okay.”

Justine held his gaze, searching for a smirk or an air of judgment, and found none. Instead, she detected kindness. And if she were honest, intrigue. That was okay. She was intrigued by him too. A man who likely had places to be and people to see, taking time out of his day to help her out in a rough time.

“Okay,” she said with a nod. “Thanks.”

The situation was as odd as it was unlikely, but as Burke exited the car, came around to her side, and took the box from her lap, Justine couldn’t deny the sense of kinship she felt. Like the others passing through town, he’d be gone as quickly as he came, but it’d been a very long time since she’d felt sparks of any sort.

It felt nice. Especially after the incident at the grocery store. Seeing Brittany with her promise ring from Trevor while Justine defended a lie about a fiancé that didn’t exist—it had her wanting to feel wanted too. Desperately.

Plus, she’d made it a habit to enjoy the moments life brought her way. To give herself to them completely. Why not do the same with a moment like this?

 

 

Chapter 5

 

 

Burke shoveled the final heap of dirt over the shallow grave. He took a step back then, shovel in hand, and watched as Justine moved onto her knees beside the fresh mound.

She’d collected a small, wooden cross about a foot and a half tall from a pile against the pines. She centered it at the head of the grave, tucked the speared tip into the soil, and ran her fingertips over the fresh dirt.

Burke glanced down at his suit pants. Not only were they marked with a bloodstain on his shin, a ring of dirt now clung to the bottom hems. That same dirt coated his patent leather shoes. And though he hadn’t stooped to actually touch the soil, his hands were coated in a dusty layer as well.

“I’m sorry your life ended early,” she said softly, reverently. “You were noticed. You were seen. You matter.”

The tenderness in her words lit a dart of heat in his chest. They were interesting things to say to a cat. Selective, too. It touched on a sore spot Burke had struggled with throughout his life—the desire to be seen, noticed, by a father who wasn’t there. Most of his accomplishments were driven by that very thing.

Burke sank the shovel’s spear into the dirt so it would stand on its own, then hunched beside her, looking at the grave in quiet contemplation. Had she struggled in a similar way? He sensed that she had. Why else would she think to say that type of thing?

“What was her name? The cat’s,” he clarified. “And how long did you have her?”

Justine had been tucking a curly lock of hair behind one ear, but at his questions, she stopped short and shot him a look. “What?”

A breeze picked up, tossing the unruly lock back where it brushed against her cheek once more.

Without another thought, Burke reached out, pinned the piece in a light grasp between his fingers, and tucked it behind her ear. That strawberry scent floated through the air as his fingertips grazed a warm, silky spot behind her earlobe.

“There you go.” It came out in a whisper. Dang, she was pretty. Naturally so. Her eyes were a sight all their own. Green with flecks of gold, making them more hazel, he guessed. They reminded him of the New York Bay in late spring, when the sun hit the water.

“Thanks.”

“Well, what do we have here?” boomed a voice from behind.

Burke dropped his hand and shot to his feet. “Nothing. I mean…” He dusted off his suit while glancing at the man who’d snuck up behind them. Definitely the grandpa. “Hello there, sir. I’m Burke.”

“Oh, ho ho,” he boomed louder than Santa at Time Square. “We meet at last, fine sir.”

Burke forced himself to nod. Perhaps he was senile.

The older man, sporting a faded pair of denim coveralls, slapped him on the back in a man hug. “I thought the day would never come.”

The day…what day? Burke darted a questioning glance at Justine, whose eyes had widened to the size of saucers. She waved her arms in an ex pattern silently behind her grandfather, which meant…what exactly? What did she want him to do?

“Gramps,” she blurted suddenly, placing a hand on his back.

The old man turned to face her. “Why didn’t you tell me he was coming into town today? I’d have made him a nice fish supper.”

Burke kept his eyes pasted on Justine, watching as a transformation took place. The shock and horror shifting as a streak of possibilities lit her face.

“He’s actually just passing through, Gramps.” She rubbed a hand over his back and motioned to Burke. “It was kind of a…last minute surprise.”

The old man’s lips hardened into a flat line. He turned an accusing glare on Burke, who forced himself to nod in agreement.

“Aw, no you don’t,” her granddad boomed. “That won’t do, young man. You say you’re in love with Justine? You say you’re going to take her hand in marriage, least you can do is stick around to meet the man who raised her.”

Whoa. Justine was engaged? To a guy her own grandpa hadn’t even met? Burke took a step back as a spurt of adrenaline pushed through him.

“Gramps, I’ve told you how busy he is,” Justine blurted.

“Well, why in the world would you agree to marry the guy? What kind of life could he give you if he can’t make time for you?”

The desperation on Justine’s face was unbearable. Burke felt the urgency twisting in his mind as well, working to find a solution to the mysterious problem.

“Actually,” Burke said, moving around the man to stand beside Justine. He wrapped an arm around her lower back and pulled her into his side. “I decided to stay a little while.”

“What?” The single word, uttered from Justine—not her granddad— shot into the crisp air like the surprised blast of a horn. The look she gave him seemed to match it. Shock, awe, and the tiniest, sliver-sized hint of a grin.

Burke liked the idea of earning that grin. He curled his fingers around the soft curve of her narrow waist, breathed in another dose of her strawberry scent, and added another layer to his story.

“Yeah, Justine. I was going to surprise you with that fact, but…”

A hearty chuckle sounded deep in her Granddad’s chest. “Now that’s more like it.” He smacked him on the back and pointed toward a waist-high swinging gate. One wide enough that an oversized tractor or plow could get through. “Let’s get acquainted over some grub, shall we?”

His adrenaline was really revving now. Pulse speeding. Heart aching. Hands and face breaking into a sweat. Just what was he getting himself into? And was he doing this for a woman who was, in fact, engaged?

“Actually,” Justine said, pulling Burke’s arm to stay him. “We already have dinner plans, Gramps.”

“Then cancel them,” the old man said. “Not like there’s any place fancy you can go around here anyway.”

“There’s the Steakhouse,” she countered.

Gramps shot him a look. “Outside of town?”

She nodded.

“You have to get a reservation.” Doubt showed in the slant of his eyes.

Burke piped up. “Yes, sir. I did that already.” He glanced at his watch. “I made it for seven o’clock, so we should probably get going.”

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