The Billionaire of Bluebonnet(3)

And for some reason, he understood that all too well.

So he found himself saying, “I’m staying overnight, actually. Thought I’d go through Grandmother Pearl’s things and see if there is anything I want.”

“That’s wonderful. It’ll give you time to acquaint yourself with Gregory, too,” she pointed out.

Like he gave a shit about a dog. But she seemed excited about it, so he added, “That, too.”

Now, he just had to tell his driver that he wasn’t driving back to Houston tonight.

“You’ll love Gregory,” she said softly. “He’s so affectionate and smart. I think you’ll be impressed. He’s impossible not to love.”

Ah, hell. For the first time, her bright blue eyes softened with enthusiasm and her face lit up. She adored the damn dog.

And she still thought he was going to adopt it. “About that . . .” he began.

“Your grandmother wanted you to have him when she passed,” Risa blurted out, her look becoming worried again. “She said she trusted you to look after him.”

“You should take him.”

She shook her head sadly. “I can’t. I wish I could, but I don’t have any place to keep him. I’m staying with a friend in Dallas until I find work.”

“Look, Risa.” He scrubbed a hand along his jaw, wondering why it was so damn hard to disappoint the woman. “I travel a lot. Internationally. I’m afraid there’s just no room in my life for a dog.”

She stared at him as if his words didn’t register. Then, ever so slightly, her head tilted a little.

“It’s not that I don’t like dogs,” he said, giving her his most winning smile. “It’s that I’m constantly at work or traveling. He’d be lonely stuck at home by himself all the time. It’s not fair to him.”

Her lips twitched. Like she thought he was . . . funny?

For some reason, that made Travis bristle. “Is there a problem with what I’m saying?”

She didn’t back down from his cold tone. Those blue eyes sparkled again, and she gestured to the back door. “I think you should meet Gregory.”

“I don’t want the dog, Risa,” he began, but fell silent when she took his hand in hers and began to drag him across the living room to the French doors at the far end of the room. That small, warm contact of her hand touching his seemed incredibly intimate and casual.

How long had it been since someone had held his hand?

She opened the door with her other hand and stepped onto the back porch of the house, then whistled. “Gregory! Gregory Peccary!”

There was a loud, sharp squeal, and he heard the sound of hooves clicking across the boards of the back porch. To his shock, a pig came darting around the side of the house, racing toward her.

A fucking pink and black pig.

She dropped to her knees and held her arms out for the pig, and it dove into her embrace, snuffling and rubbing against her. And her brilliant smile was back, wide and reaching her eyes. She looked up at him, laughter in her face.

“Gregory’s not a dog. He’s a micro pig.” Her lips twitched again. “And he’s yours.”

Travis stared down at the squirming pig in her arms. It was the size of a small dog. Bulldog, even. That was where the resemblance ended, though. This thing had hooves and a snout. The pig’s little tail wagged at a rapid pace, and he grunted as he burrowed in Risa’s arms. She scratched his back, rubbing him.

Travis just stared. This was why the local shelter wouldn’t take the damn thing.

Well, goddamn. What the hell was a CEO supposed to do with a pig?

To say that Travis Jesson wasn’t pleased would have been an understatement. Risa knew the moment he laid eyes on the pig that he’d never known that his grandmother’s beloved pet was porcine rather than canine. But that couldn’t be helped—Risa loved the pig but she couldn’t keep him. And Pearl had wanted Travis to have Gregory.

“That boy works too much,” Pearl had said time and time again. “He needs something other than work to occupy him.”

Of course, Pearl always assumed that everyone would just do what she’d wanted. She probably hadn’t anticipated the enormous scowl on Travis’s handsome, unsmiling face.

It was a face that Risa had dreamed about ever since she’d met Pearl Jesson four years ago. Travis Jesson had interviewed her before Pearl had, and she’d been too intimidated by his brusque manner to really pay much attention to him. Pearl, however, had been one of the nicest, friendliest people she’d ever met. She needed an assistant, she’d explained, because her grandson worried about her, especially after she’d broken her hip. They’d instantly clicked over a comment about daytime television, and Risa had the job.