The Billionaire's (Not So) Fake Engagement - Kimberly Krey Page 0,27

kitchen, learning her secrets. I suck at pie-making,” she admitted with a grin.

Burke looked over her face, admiring the appearance of that dimple in her cheek. “Well I, unlike you, do not suck at pie-making.”

Justine’s eyes went wide. “You can bake pies?”

“Just apple,” he stipulated. “But it’s the best apple pie you’ll ever taste. Hands down.” He leaned over the table and shielded his mouth with the back of his hand. “There’s a secret method to creating those thin, flaky layers that make the crust melt in your mouth.” He could see Mom hovered over the mixing bowl now, smearing her flour-dusted hands on her apron, eyes sparkling with delight. It was the closest the woman came to experiencing true, domestic joy.

“What a neat memory that is,” Justine said. “It’s good that you have those to hold onto the rest of your life.”

“Yes, it is.” He cleared his throat. “Well, now we’ve both shared our sad stories, haven’t we?”

There was that dimple again. “I guess so. Thanks for sharing yours with me. I like that you’re pursuing a life with your half-siblings. That’s brave, and I’m sure it wasn’t easy at first. I’d be scared that none of them would want me,” she added with a laugh.

Yes, there was that.

“Anyway,” she said, biting on her lower lip. “It’s inspiring to see what others overcome in life, don’t you think?”

He held her gaze as a fresh wave of admiration ran through him. “Definitely.”

They worked on the appetizers a bit more, the quiet night a comfort as their conversation replayed in his head. Justine was easy to talk to. Easy to like. And perhaps…easy to fall for as well. He’d be surprised if at least half the men in town hadn’t already pursued her.

“You mentioned when we first met that you were buying land nearby,” she said. “Is that right?”

Careful, Burke. “Not too close by,” he said. “I finished closing a deal before I flew out, and now…now I’m just looking for the next one. Online, not in town.” There. That was all true. Sure, the property he’d purchased prior was in Piney Falls, but there was no need to add that detail. Especially if her reaction would be anything like Foster warned it might be. Besides, it would likely be a very long time before it sold.

“So when you’re reselling the land you buy,” she said. “Do you take into consideration what the buyer might build?”

Oh no. This was hitting a little close to home. Burke tipped his head. “Somewhat.” He reached for his glass, scrambling for a way to move beyond the topic.

“Let’s just say that someone bought land in Piney Falls. Or even just outside of it. If someone came in and threatened to build this massive factory that could pollute the area within miles around it, would you stop that from happening?”

Crap. More throat tightening. “I wouldn’t encourage anyone to put up factories. And remember, the law usually requires a notice to go up so that people have a chance to state their piece.”

“Yeah, but those get overridden all the time and it ruins everything. The environment, the air, the view. I mean, have you even looked at the stars out here?”

Great. This was the part when he’d discover that Justine was a tree-hugging, bleeding heart who would villainize anyone who dared disrupt a spot of barren land.

He braced himself, already feeling his defenses rise. “You say here like they’re different from the stars I’ve seen everywhere else.”

“That’s because they are.”

Burke glanced up to look beyond the string of patio lights and tall heat lamps. May as well indulge her. Yep, there were stars. And if they were so different here, he’d likely know it better than Justine. He’d been all over the world, for crying out loud. He doubted that she could say the same.

“They’re pretty,” he finally said. “They’re nice.”

But Justine shook her head and scooted her chair away from the table. “Come here,” she said, resting her napkin beside her appetizer plate.

Burke glanced over his shoulder. “Where?”

“Just over here so you can get a better look.” She hooked a hand around his forearm and gave it a tug. “Come on,” she urged, moving to the edge of the rooftop. It was darker over there. A lot darker. And suddenly more quiet too. No longer could he hear the hum of the heaters, the distant clank of pots in the restaurant’s kitchen.

“Look up there now,” she said in a whisper.

Burke took a moment to look at

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