Won’t Fall Again Read online

  Won’t Fall Again

  The Billionaire’s Whim, Book 4

  Liliana Rhodes

  Won’t Fall Again, The Billionaire’s Whim book 4

  Copyright © 2020 by Liliana Rhodes

  Cover Design by CT Cover Creations

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author except in the case of brief quotation embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  Contents

  About Won’t Fall Again

  Prologue

  I. A Chance to Remember

  1. Tara

  2. Tara

  3. Mason

  4. Tara

  5. Tara

  6. Mason

  7. Tara

  8. Tara

  9. Mason

  10. Tara

  11. Mason

  II. A Chance to Forget

  12. Tara

  13. Mason

  14. Tara

  Excerpt — Love to Hate You

  About Love to Hate You

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Also by Liliana Rhodes

  About the Author

  Sign Up For FREE Books

  About Won’t Fall Again

  Fifteen years ago billionaire rancher Mason Abernathy made a promise—he said he would come back for her, instead he broke her heart.

  Tara Murphy never forgot the man she calls the love of her life. Left with her memories, strong-willed Tara moved away from the reminders of her past to Canyon Cove. But when fate steps in and brings Mason back into her life, she’s torn between the love she still has and the agony he caused her.

  Mason will do whatever it takes to have her back in his life, but can Tara move past the pain of their past and give him a Second Chance?

  This novel was originally published as Second Chance, it is now book 3 in The Billionaire’s Whim series.

  Book 1: My Boss’s Whim

  Book 2: Playing the Game

  Book 3: Tailored for Love

  Book 4: Won’t Fall Again

  Book 5: Love to Hate You

  Book 6: Better as Friends

  Prologue

  Six Months Ago

  Tara

  As Ashley Boone and I walked along the carpeted hall of Jefferson Manor, I couldn’t help but think about home. Not the house I grew up in, but the elegance and mystery of the South. In some ways I felt all I had were my memories. But whenever I saw Ashley with her husband, billionaire Xander Boone, it reminded me of what I lost a long time ago.

  But more than just being my boss’s wife, Ashley was a good friend. She was pregnant with their first child and was excited to show me the baby’s room. As she walked into the room, I noticed the faintest pregnant waddle as her dark wavy hair swung around her shoulders.

  “This is a nice color,” I said, admiring the paint. “What is it? Taupe?”

  The room was jungle themed. Hanging on the wall was a quilt with a fuzzy baby monkey, elephant, and lion on it. In the corner was a brown microfiber rocking chair. Long blue curtains hung from the wide windows. The room was painted a nice taupe, just dark enough to be interesting.

  Ashley shrugged. “I don’t know the name of it. I brought them the quilt and asked them to make it the color of the monkey’s butt.” She patted the monkey on the wall hanging.

  “Well, that's the best looking monkey butt I've ever seen. And trust me, I've dated a few monkey butts in my time,” I said with a laugh.

  “Is that why you never married?”

  “It’s complicated,” I whispered, barely able to speak for a moment as I thought about Mason Abernathy. “There was one man. Ooh boy, was he ever a man!” I fanned myself dramatically and forced a smile onto my face. “The love of my life.”

  “What happened to him?”

  “I wish I knew...” I said wistfully and slowly ran my hand over the fuzzy material of the wall hanging. Although he was never far from my thoughts, it had been a very long time since I spoke about Mason. “I didn't grow up rich, but my parents knew horses were all I cared about. For my eighteenth birthday, they scrimped and saved to buy me an old horse, my beloved Ladyfinger. She was a beauty. We didn't have land for her so she had to be kept at a ranch where I could rent a stall. I started working there to pay for her boarding. Ended up making it a career. Everything I do here to take care of the horses, I learned at Abernathy Ranch.”

  A lock of my sandy blonde hair fell into my eyes. I pushed it back and tightened my ponytail. Talking about Mason after all this time was bittersweet.

  “Did your boyfriend work there, too? Is that how you met him?”

  “Yes, he did. Mason's family owned the stables and the entire town. His family wanted him to learn the family horse business from the bottom up. Shovelin' shit and all. Chances are if you've got a horse, the Abernathy family has lineage in it.”

  “So what happened?” Ashley asked quietly.

  I turned away and crossed my arms over my chest, hugging myself and rubbing the soft fabric of my long sleeved t-shirt as the heartache came back stronger.

  “He left,” I said with a shrug. “He went away. He left for a business opportunity in Germany and never came back.” I felt my throat tighten, and I cleared it as my eyes misted over. I hated feeling so vulnerable and hurt after all this time, especially in front of someone else, no matter how close I felt to her. I let out a long sigh and pursed my lips. “Well, that’s not entirely true. He came back eventually, just not to me. Not a day passes that I don't think about him though.”

  I was lucky that Ashley knew me well enough that she didn’t ask anything else. Talking about Mason’s leaving was the last thing I wanted to do.

  * * *

  A few days later, I was prepping a horse stall for a colt that was arriving in the morning. Entering the stable with an arm full of hay, my feet froze as I heard a trio of voices. Two of them I knew as Ashley and Xander, but the third I hadn’t heard in fifteen years.

  It can’t be him.

  His voice was deep and with his Southern drawl, I knew it could only be one person. I forced my eyes to focus on the man with Ashley and Xander, but the darkness of the stable made my eyes slow to adjust. Wishing my arms were empty, I rubbed my eyes into my shoulder as best as I could until my vision cleared.

  Mason was taller than I remembered, but he still cut a striking figure in his grey suit and black cowboy boots. His hair was turning grey, but still had enough of the brown I remembered running my fingers through. I blinked quickly, trying to clear my vision of Mason and see who was really standing there, but nothing changed. It was him.

  He patted a colt on the neck and my thoughts rushed. Was it an Abernathy colt we were getting? No, I would’ve remembered if it was. So why is he here?

  As he stepped out of the colt’s stall, he squinted at the sun behind me as he pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped his hands.

  “Am I seeing an angel?” he whispered.

  “I knew I recognized your voice,” Tara said. “How funny that after all this time I didn’t need to see you to know it was you.”

  My feet had a mind of their own and moved me closer to him. I tried to act normal, but I didn’t know what normal was anymore. I never thought I would see him again.

  Mason met me halfway. I looked up into his eyes and the years vanished. All the feelings I had locked away for so long had r
eturned. I felt like the twenty-two year old I was when we dated and not the woman in her thirties seeing the man she had dreamed about for fifteen years.

  As I soaked Mason in, he smiled, but his dimples were hidden by his short beard that was grey where it covered his chin. I was happy to see his face looked a little weathered from the sun. It meant he wasn’t sitting behind a desk like I remembered his father did.

  “Your hair. It’s lighter,” Mason said, his voice a mix of awe and confusion.

  “And your face is older,” I said as I laughed. “It's been a long time, Mason.”

  “Too long.”

  His husky voice pierced my heart and reminded me of the pain he caused.

  “And whose fault is that?” I blurted out.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Never mind,” I mumbled, shaking my head and looking down at my boots. “It's not something I care to relive right now.”

  “Let me take you to dinner. Let’s catch up and talk about old times. Or not. Whatever you want. Just give me a little of your time,” he said.

  “I think I can manage that. Come get me in an hour. I'm a busy woman, you know,” I said with a grin.

  I dropped the hay into the colt’s stall and looked the horse over as my mind spun. An hour? What was I thinking? I didn’t have enough time to get ready in an hour.

  As they walked out of the barn, I busied myself with the young horse, but my eyes kept darting over to Mason. After a few minutes, Maya, my niece, entered the stable and rushed over.

  Maya’s dark blonde hair was the same color as mine at her age before I started coloring it. She wore it pulled back from her face, and it fell down her back in long springy curls. Maya had inherited all of her looks from my sister Brooke, even the Murphy family curves and our short stature. The only thing that made her different were her bright green eyes.

  “He’s early! Oh, he’s beautiful,” she said as she filled a bucket of water.

  “Can you keep an eye on him? I have some things I need to take care of,” I said, hoping she wouldn’t ask any questions.

  “No problem. I told you, while I’m here, I’m here to help. I had nowhere else to go and you took me in.”

  “You’re being dramatic,” I said as I patted her shoulder. “You’re just going through a rough patch. Happens to us all.”

  “I mean it though. You’ve been a lifesaver.”

  I felt like time was racing and as much as I wanted to stay and talk, I had to get going if I was going to have enough time to get ready for Mason.

  “This is an Abernathy colt, so I’m sure he’ll have no problem adjusting. But if you need me for anything, just text me,” I said as I left the stall.

  I picked up my pace as I stepped out of the stable, but Mason surprised me. He slipped his arm around my waist and pulled me close to him.

  “I couldn’t help but notice there isn’t a ring on your finger,” he said, his voice grave.

  “What are you doing?”

  Surprise filled my voice. Even though I really wanted to stay in his arms, I pushed my hands against his strong chest to give myself space. I had to remember how much he hurt me before. I wouldn’t let that happen again.

  “Isn’t it obvious? I’m going to kiss you.”

  His head lowered towards mine and I pushed him further away.

  “No! Just no. Who do you think you are? Am I supposed to just drop every ounce of sanity because you want to kiss me? It’s been fifteen years, Mason. You don’t know anything about me anymore,” I said.

  “I know you, Tara. The time away doesn’t change anything between us. At least it doesn’t for me.”

  “Time changes everything. Things ended when you left. Just because you’re here now doesn’t mean things will go back to the way they were.”

  “Are you dating anyone? Are you married?” He barked his questions at me. I hated having to admit the truth.

  “No,” I said, my voice full of frustration.

  “Then why can’t we pretend we were never apart? We’re not kids anymore, Tara. We don’t need the foreplay of playing coy. You can’t tell me you feel differently now than you did back then. I can see it in how you look at me.”

  “Forget about how I look at you. That doesn’t matter. And forget about dinner tonight.”

  “What do you mean forget about it?”

  His tone was demanding, and it made me push back even more. Inside though, I was struggling. The naive girl he left fifteen years ago was gone. I was stronger now except for my knees. He still made them weak.

  “I don’t think I want to see you right now. I don’t know if I ever want to see you,” I said. “I told you, I’ve changed and you need to accept that. Just as I’m seeing that you’ve changed, too. And not for the better.”

  I pushed further away from him, finally breaking his hold on me, and stormed down the dusty path to my cottage. I was glad I didn’t hear his footsteps behind me. I wasn’t one of those women who wanted to be chased and followed. I needed to be alone.

  Slamming the door behind me, I walked aimlessly into my home. Tears stung my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. I had cried too many times for that man.

  How dare he grab me and try kissing me! I should have slapped him or kneed him in the balls, but I really wanted that kiss. I had been dreaming about his lips, his arms, everything about him for all these years.

  Why did I push him away? I don’t know. Something just didn’t feel right. I wasn’t that girl from all those years ago, I was different. I had changed and I wanted him to acknowledge that and see me for who I was now. But, deep down, I still wished he kissed me.

  Mason

  How dare she. I got into my car and sped away from Jefferson Manor as quickly as I could. As I drove back to the downtown area of Canyon Cove, I replayed my interaction with Tara in my head. I was trying to make sense of it, but it only fueled my anger more.

  I pulled the car up to the hotel valet and took the ticket from him without saying a word. I didn’t need to say anything; he knew who I was. Everyone did.

  The heels of my boots clapped against the marble floor as I walked through the hotel lobby towards the bar. The last thing I wanted at that moment was to be alone with my thoughts in my suite. I knew all I would think about was her. She was all I had thought about for the past fifteen years. Being spurned by her wouldn’t change that.

  As I entered the bar, I found a small booth in a quiet corner. The bartender nodded in my direction and I raised two fingers at him. As I loosened my tie, he set a glass on the small table in front of me. In his other hand, he held a bottle.

  “Good?” he asked as he held out the bottle.

  I nodded and he poured my two fingers’ worth. “Leave the bottle,” I grunted.

  As I took a sip, the bouquet of cheap perfume enveloped me. A young woman with sun-kissed blonde waves and a seductive pout slid across from me. She was pretty, but she wasn’t Tara.

  Seeing Tara was like stepping back in time for me. Every emotion rushed back as if only fifteen minutes had gone by instead of years. I should’ve kissed her. It had been on my mind for too long to not do it.

  “Are you waiting for someone?” the woman asked nervously.

  “Maybe,” I said, thinking about Tara.

  “It’s a woman, isn’t it? Maybe I can help you forget.”

  While I knew what she meant, there was something about her demeanor that told another story. She seemed lost, like a helpless kitten. I was curious about her story.

  I looked over towards the bartender and raised my glass to him. He nodded and brought over an empty glass and set it on the table.

  “It’s always about a woman,” I said as I poured her a drink then slid it over to her.

  “No, thank you,” she said, pushing the glass away. “I don’t drink while—”

  She cut herself off, and her eyes drifted towards another booth where a man wearing sunglasses sat.

  “Not while you’re on a job.” I finished for her
. “What’s your name?” I asked.

  “Candi. Of course I know yours, but I can call you whatever you’d like.”

  “Mason is fine. How much for him to go away?”

  I darted my eyes towards her pimp then back at her. She chewed her lip nervously then lowered her voice.

  “He never goes away.”

  “But he won’t follow you to a room,” I said.

  She nodded. I pulled my wallet out and slid a small wad of hundreds across the table to her.

  “Let’s go.”

  I held my hand out to her and helped her out of the seat. Her hands felt dry, like someone who spent her day cleaning, not like the high-priced escort she was pretending to be. As we walked out of the bar, I felt her tremble.

  The harsh lights of the elevator revealed how thin and withdrawn she was. Her eyes were slightly hallowed and her skin was sickly pale. She reminded me of a worn doll that someone had dressed up, hoping to make it look nicer.

  As the elevator rose to the penthouse suites, she stared out the glass at the lights below. She hugged herself and rubbed her thin arms. I took my jacket off and placed it over her shoulders.

  “Thank you, Mr. Abernathy,” she said as she turned to face me.

  “I told you before, it’s Mason. Now what’s your name?”

  “Candi.”

  “Your real name.”

  Her eyes darted away from me and she looked out again.

  “He’s not here.”

  “Tricia,” she whispered.