Billionaires Don't Like Nice Girls (A BWWM Romance) Read online

  Phae grinned. “I’m feeling better now, thank you. So about the tall question …”

  Kent lowered his arms and leaned forward. “I like curious women. I asked about your height because my aunt is playing matchmaker and once she has her mind set on something, you might as well go along with it. Since I’m a tall man, the first requirement you must meet is height.”

  “I see. And do I pass?”

  His brow furrowed. “We’ve got about a seven inch difference. Not insurmountable. You’ll do on that count.”

  “Are you implying that I have deficiencies elsewhere?”

  “You’re worse for the wear from all that crying, and your eyes are more red than brown right now. And that hair. Did you even brush it before you pulled it back?”

  “Your aunt has told me a lot about you, but she didn’t mention that you’re a rude jerk.”

  “Ah! Impertinent. I like that. But those delicate female sensibilities will never do. You’ll have to learn to be less sensitive about your shortcomings if you’re going to improve yourself. Still, for all that, you have a nice shape. Why don’t you stand up so I can get a better look?”

  “I don’t need that kind of scrutiny from a puny, sickly invalid like you. Perhaps you’d like to judge my feet instead?” She waved a foot in the air. “Too big? Too wide? Too small? Too narrow?”

  “They’re okay, but what I really like is the way your muscles flex when you move your foot like that. And those white shorts. They show off your long, golden-brown legs to perfection.”

  Phae dropped her leg. “My golden-brown legs?”

  “That’s right. Your skin glows, in case you haven’t noticed. I’ve noticed. And however much they emphasize your lovely skin, I have to question the practicality of wearing white shorts while gardening. You’re not very sensible, are you?”

  “I’ll have you know that—”

  “Yoo-hoo!” Miss Eugenia called.

  Phae and Kent turned toward the house.

  “I’ve got to run a quick errand. Mrs. Tate has had a setback.”

  “I’ll drive you,” Kent said, making to stand up.

  “Good heavens, no! Stay right there, silly boy. Keep an eye on him while I’m gone, Phae. He refuses to heed the danger of his injuries. And Kent, don’t move from that chair until I return.”

  They called their goodbyes and the back door closed behind the elderly do-gooder.

  “Miss Eugenia to the rescue,” Phae said, returning to her planting.

  “It seems that Mrs. Tate’s distress takes precedence over your grief-induced heat stroke.”

  “Damn. I was going to get lemonade. Still, she has her priorities in the right order.” Phae pushed a marigold into the hole she’d dug.

  “So,” Kent continued, kicked back and relaxed into his chair again, “when you dress up for a night on the town, do you wear sequined dresses? I can’t stand those things. I like what you women call little black dresses. You know, the super short kind. With thin straps that remind me of lingerie.”

  “I don’t own any fancy dresses. In case you haven’t noticed, Zeke’s Bend doesn’t have any overpriced restaurants or nightclubs or anything else like that. And you can quit with the quiz. Miss Eugenia isn’t trying to get us together.”

  “She’s not? Then why are you here?”

  Phae held up her gloved hands. “The garden? This thing where I’m sticking plants in the ground.”

  “That? It’s a ruse.” He waved a dismissive hand in the air. “My aunt planned it all out. Last night I had to listen to her describe you for hours and hours. You certainly have a lengthy list of accomplishments.”

  “And probably not one of them is true,” Phae said, pushing an escaped tendril of long, curly hair away from her face. “Anyway, it’s only fair. We’ve had to listen to stories about you for oh, I don’t know, forever.”

  Kent groaned, a low seductive rumble that made Phae’s stomach flutter. “Tell me the bad news. I can only imagine what she’s been saying.”

  “Nothing awful. She’s proud of your successes. You own a software company, right?”

  “Personal security apps. So, about you again. I’ve been told you have a degree from an Ivy League college out east, something to do with business. You used your fine education to become a hairdresser here where you grew up. Is hairdressing an artistic calling or are you not interested in competing in the big world?”

  “What?” Phae stared at his gloating, though handsome face, his teasing truly annoying her for the first time. “You’d better back off, buddy. I like this town and I’m not going to listen to an uptight computer geek insult it, or me, for that matter. You’ve been riding a fine line during this whole conversation and now you’ve veered off course—”

  “I’m not trying to insult you or your town, though I can’t say the same for you. Computer geek’s a little harsh. Besides, I like this town. When I was a kid, I used to spend my summers here with Aunt Eugenia. She didn’t let me out of her sight, or this yard much, either, but I’ve always liked it.”

  Phae gave him an indifferent nod then resumed her digging. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him leisurely cross his legs.

  “No apology for the geek crack?” He sighed dramatically. “So you hold a grudge, too. Unfortunate. We’ll have to work on that if we don’t want to disappoint my aunt and her matchmaking efforts. First, you have to learn to forgive. It’s not easy, I know, but I can give you lessons. Second, you need to learn how to live up to your potential. I can help there, too. But you’re going to—”

  “Hold it right there. Before you get carried away solving my problems, listen up. I’m here to plant this garden. I repeat … the garden. Miss Eugenia is not playing matchmaker for us.”

  Phae had a wicked thought. “Actually, Mr. Kent Big Shot Holmes, Miss Eugenia informed me that I am far too independent for someone like you. She said you need a more motherly kind of woman who will take care of you because you’re so sickly. She was right. Look at you. Pale and puny. You need a nurse, not a girlfriend.” She smiled to herself as she stabbed the small spade into the ground.

  “I see,” he said, his eyes twinkling more than ever. “That’s that, I guess. I don’t gainsay my aunt. You know, I’d rather grown to like you, in spite of your shortcomings. It’s a pity, but I guess it can’t be helped.” He stood. “I suppose I might as well help you with the garden.”

  “Don’t over-stress yourself. I’d hate for you to have a setback. Miss Eugenia would skin me alive and she’d have to haul you back inside. Doubt I’d survive another scene like that.” She grinned at the memory.

  Kent knelt beside her and began digging. “I’ll be fine. Keep a lookout for Aunt Eugenia. If she catches me doing this I’ll probably have to go to the hospital for another x-ray.”

  “I take it that bump on your forehead has already been x-rayed once?”

  “Yeah. She wanted an MRI, too, but the doctor managed to get her to see reason eventually. I love my aunt, but sometimes …”

  “No need to explain. By the way, I’m sorry about what happened to you the other night. With Captain Nice Guy, I mean.”

  Kent nodded. “Thanks. But it’s not your fault. And I’ll live.”

  They worked together in silence for a few minutes. Phae surreptitiously watched Kent’s large, capable hands gently cover a plant’s roots. Why was it so sexy when a big strong man was tender with something small and delicate? Too bad he had to ruin it when he began talking again.

  “So tell me about this Captain Nice Guy,” Kent said. “Something other than the obvious part about him being a lousy gardener.”

  “I don’t know much about him. Nobody does.”

  “How long has he been running around helping people?”

  “Nobody knows.”

  “What sort of things has he done?”

  Phae picked at the roots of the daisy she held. “Lots of little things. Nothing important.”

  “One of the deputies told me that the captain stopp
ed a robbery at a convenience store last year.”

  “I think he simply called the police. I’m not sure.”

  “When did everyone start calling him Captain Nice Guy?”

  Phae nearly groaned. She hated the name. “Local newspaper. Somebody used it in a letter to the editor I think. Don’t know.”

  Kent had a bemused expression. “You’re awfully uncertain on this subject. I feel like we’re playing twenty questions. Are the goings-on of this guy a secret or something?”

  “No, I don’t pay much attention to him, that’s all. I think it’s kind of silly, the way people gossip about him. I say leave him alone and let him do his thing.”

  “I think it’s fascinating, myself. Although I’ve got to admit that since my run-in with him, I’ve worried about what might happen if he got too carried away. What happened to me was likely an accident, and he didn’t actually harm me, but still, this guy sneaks around town in the middle of the night. Anything could happen.”

  Phae found herself affronted by the suggestion that she might be incompetent. “I don’t think so. He doesn’t get involved with rough stuff.”

  “You mean he hasn’t so far, which isn’t to say that he won’t at some point in the future.”

  “I don’t think he would.”

  “We’ll see eventually. By the way, I understand no one has ever gotten a good look at him?”

  “Nope. Never.”

  “Then how does everyone know Captain Nice Guy isn’t actually Captain Nice Girl?”

  Phae stiffened, then quickly shoved another plant into the loose soil.

  Chapter 4

  “YOU GONNA EAT THAT, PHAE?”

  Phae pushed her plate toward Sylvie, who happily snatched up the remaining crinkly fries.

  “I’ve got to stop eating these big lunches,” Phae said while eyeing her half-eaten burger and fries. “It costs too much, and it’s too much food. I’m having a salad at home tomorrow, Sylvie, so don’t tempt me again.”

  “Nobody said you had to order the deluxe fat special, you know. Look at me. I’m eating a salad.” She ate a fry drenched in ketchup and swallowed quickly. “You don’t have to eat at home to eat healthy.”

  “I can’t order healthy food when I eat out. And I can’t leave food on my plate, either.” Phae grabbed another fry and began to munch.

  “Just because you paid for it, doesn’t mean you have to eat it. Practice some self-discipline. Put the fry down.”

  Phae shook her head.

  “The fry. Put it down.” She pointed her fork at Phae. “I don’t want to have to poke you.”

  “Don’t act righteous. I know you’re not trying to save me from the fries. You want all of them for yourself.”

  Sylvie grinned charmingly. “It can be both things at once, you know. They aren’t mutually exclusive.”

  “Okay, tough girl with the scary fork. You win. Take it with you when we leave. You can use it to keep me out of here tomorrow.”

  “Actually, I think you should come here every day. You need to get out more, be social, see people and be seen.”

  “I work in a beauty shop. All I do all day long is see people. And talk to people. And listen to people. And put up with people and—”

  “Okay, I didn’t mean people. I meant men. Men never come into the shop and when they do, it’s only to pick up their wives or girlfriends.”

  “Look around this place. How many people are in here? Maybe thirty? And yes, most of them are men, but if they’re not married, they’re related. Leave it alone and let me handle my own love life.”

  Sylvie shrugged and raised her hands in surrender. “Okay, already. Tomorrow we’ll eat salads at the shop. Hey, wait a minute. Who’s that?”

  Phae turned toward the door. Her heart stopped for a moment when she recognized Kent Holmes. He looked even more handsome than she remembered in a snug knit shirt and casual slacks.

  She reminded herself to act naturally. After the way she’d bolted from Miss Eugenia’s garden the other day, Kent must think her either foolish or shifty.

  Phae took a deep breath, smiled and waved.

  “Oh my God, you know him,” Sylvie said. “Does that mean you have dibs? He’s gorgeous. He’s coming over here. He’s hot.”

  “I know. Calm down. And anyway, you should be thinking about Dr. Alan.”

  “Doctor who? Oh, right. He’s not really a doctor, you know. He’s a chiropractor,” she hissed.

  “Shh. And I don’t have dibs. Well, maybe, I don’t know.” Phae took a sip of water.

  Kent strolled up in all his manly glory, impossibly tall in the cafe. “Hi, mind if I join you?” he asked in his wonderfully deep voice.

  Phae waved to a chair. “Please do.”

  The women avidly watched him sit down, imagining the motions of the muscles under his pants.

  “Where’s your ponytail?” he asked with a smile.

  “Sylvie took pity on me and did my hair today. Sylvie, this is Miss Eugenia’s puny, sickly nephew Kent Holmes. As you can see, he’s not well, so don’t be too witty or charming. We don’t want to wear him out.”

  Kent grinned at Phae and raised a perfectly shaped brow. “I haven’t seen you in five excruciatingly long days and this is how you greet me? Have some pity, woman.” He looked at Sylvie. “It’s nice to meet you. My aunt tells me you work with Phae. My condolences.”

  Phae rolled her eyes at Sylvie’s girlish giggle. “Don’t egg him on, Sylvie. He’s impossible to stop once he gets started.”

  Sylvie batted her eyelashes at Kent. “I can’t imagine why any lady would ever want to stop you from getting anything you wanted.”

  “You need to take lessons from your partner, Phae. She knows how to talk to a man,” he teased. “You should have seen how rude your cousin was the other day, Sylvie. We were having a nice conversation and the next thing you know—whoosh—she was gone, ranting about some class she was missing. I don’t know what I could have said that set her off like that. I had to finish the garden by myself. And my aunt is giving her all the glory.” He shot Phae a handsome sideways glance. “How tall are you, Sylvie?”

  Phae snorted and crossed her arms over her chest.

  Sylvie answered sweetly, “I’m five-four. And how tall are you?”

  “Don’t encourage him,” Phae said. “He’s socially awkward and asks odd things.”

  Kent leaned back in his chair and slowly perused Phae. “And you, I’m sure, are the most accomplished socialite in Zeke’s Bend. I can tell by your clothes, the jeans that couldn’t be a day over ten years old. And there’s that big, frayed rip on the knee. You ripped it intentionally, I’m sure, so the guys can get tantalizing glimpses of your lovely knee cap.”

  He was interrupted briefly while he ordered some coffee from the waitress.

  “And that baggy t-shirt,” he continued when the waitress was gone, “it’s a prime example of feminine wiles. By concealing yourself under loose clothes, you leave it up to a man’s imagination to picture your shape. Far better than revealing yourself in something like a low-cut blouse. And crossing your arms over your chest only adds fuel to the fire.”

  He winked at Sylvie. “The true finishing touch to this vamp is her lack of make-up. Take notes, Sylvie. By not enhancing her features with cosmetics, she’s telling the world that she’s bold and free. There’s nothing men like better than a bold, free woman.”

  “Okay, Tim Gunn, that’s enough,” Phae said with a disdainful little smile. “Maybe I was wrong when I called you socially awkward. You’re more like socially demented.”

  “How do you work with her, Sylvie?” Kent asked, but looked only at Phae. “She’s so cantankerous I’m surprised she doesn’t run off all your customers.”

  “She’s an acquired taste,” Sylvie answered.

  “Hmm. I could see that,” Kent said, suggestive speculation in his tone.

  The waitress returned with his coffee and he thanked her. “See, Phae? I can be polite when no one’s provoking me
.”

  Phae unfolded her arms. “Me provoke you? Puh-lease. I can hardly get a word in edgewise.”

  Sylvie scooted her chair back and stood. “All right, you two. I’m leaving. No, don’t ask me to stay. I have an appointment in five minutes anyway. What about you, Phae?”

  “She’s going to be late,” Kent said, raising an eyebrow as he looked at Phae.

  She smiled lazily and returned his stare. “Tell Meg I’ll be late, please, Sylvie.”

  Kent grinned. “Actually, Phae’s going to have to cancel that appointment.”

  “Cancel my appointment, Sylvie,” Phae said.

  “Good grief,” Sylvie muttered as she walked away. “I’ve never seen anything like that in my entire life.”

  Kent and Phae inspected one another through lidded eyes.

  “I think she sensed our attraction to each other,” Kent said.

  “Who said I’m attracted to you?”

  “I assumed. Why else would you cancel an appointment? I doubt it’s something you normally do.”

  “How do you know what I normally do? I cancelled three appointments to replant your aunt’s garden, so don’t get a big head.”

  “You’re not very dedicated to your career are you?”

  “Right now,” she said, “I’m dedicated to convincing a certain socially demented man that he is the provoker and I am the provokee.”

  He sipped his coffee. “I wish you luck, particularly since I’m certain that provokee isn’t a word.”

  Phae watched him purse his sexy lips as he gently blew on his coffee. Sipping coffee shouldn’t have been erotic, but with this guy, it was. When he swallowed, she swallowed.

  “Ho! What do we have here?” a voice boomed from above them.

  Although she was disappointed to be interrupted from studying Kent’s lips, she smiled at the burly middle-aged man standing beside the table. She said hello and reluctantly introduced Kent to her Uncle Leon.

  “Well, then,” Leon said in his usual loud voice. “So you’re Genia’s nephew. Didn’t I see you in here yesterday? How’s that head of yours holding up, boy? All I see is a little bruise. Buck up and tell that aunt of yours to quit bending everybody’s ears about how you’re dying.”