Dirty Together(The Dirty Billionaire Trilogy #3)(8)

By: Meghan March



I’m amazed that in six months he’s managed to buy the place, renovate the whole thing, and turn Chuck’s old garage into a sought-after place for classic car restoration and repairs. To say I’m impressed would be an understatement. It appears that I’m not the only one who’s capable of going after a dream.

I’m also slightly stunned that we get out of Mr. Burger without being bothered. I guess I’m not such a big deal, even in my own town. Apparently only Miranda Lambert is famous in a small town.

Act II of Operation Reintroduce-Holly-to-Her-Roots takes us right back to the place it all started—Brews and Balls. I should have figured, since it’s really the only place for people to go for entertainment in Gold Haven.

The reception I get there is much different than at Mr. Burger. You’d think I’m the returning hero who has been away for years and years, which clearly, I’m not.

“Hot damn, look what the cat dragged in,” Benny yells over the percussion of balls hitting the lane and striking pins. He shuffles over as fast as his cane can hold him, and yanks me into a hug.

“Hey, Ben. How ya been?” It’s the same way my gran greeted him for years, and it rubbed off on me long ago.

He pulls back, lowers the old wooden cane back to the floor to steady himself, and tilts his head to one side. “I think I’m more interested in how you’ve been, Mrs. Billionaire Country Star.”

Heat burns in my cheeks. I don’t want to talk about the me that exists outside this town. That’s not why I’m here.

“I’m fine. Just taking some time off.”

He opens his mouth to ask something else, but shuts it just as quick. I glance sideways at Logan, and he’s giving Benny a hard look. Shielding me from questions?

“How about some shoes and a lane, Ben?” Logan asks.

The older man nods enthusiastically. “Of course. Anything for my girl here. Except, there’s a catch.”

“Ben—” Logan starts, but I interrupt. I know exactly what Benny’s going to throw out as the catch.

“I’ll sing one song. But not one of mine.”

“Done. Go bowl a few games, and I’ll meet you in the bar later.”

We bowl two games, and the easy camaraderie I feel with Logan surprises me. It’s not the heightened anticipation I seem to have every moment I spend around Creighton, but it’s also a lot less stressful.

It’s just . . . easy.

It’s also impossible not to compare the men, one rough around the edges and the other smooth and cultured. Both dangerous in their own way.

I know how to behave around a guy like Logan, and not just because I’ve spent a lot of time with Boone on tour. Logan’s upbringing wasn’t all that different from mine. I can throw sass at him and give as good as I get, all without feeling awkward or trashy.

I give as good as I get with Creighton too, but when I’m in his world, I lack confidence because I’m totally out of my element. On tour, things were better, but that was him playing in my world. Wasn’t there some old saying about a bird and a fish falling in love? Are we just too different?

My thoughts are distracting enough to make me throw a gutter ball. Damn. There goes my three-hundred game, which I’m perfectly capable of bowling, thank you very much. And that’s just another skill a billionaire’s wife probably shouldn’t have on her résumé.

I excel at bowling, deep-frying pickles, and singing songs about pickup trucks and broken hearts. I hate feeling like this, so inadequate, and I hate that I’m the one digging the slices in deeper. How can I ever truly be good enough for Creighton if I never believe it myself? Annika’s words jab at me again and again.

Logan throws a strike, thankfully distracting me yet again. He can also bowl a three hundred. I watched him on plenty of dates when I worked here in school. Just another difference between the two men. Brews and Balls is the kind of place a guy like Logan brings a date. I try to picture Creighton here and find it utterly impossible.

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