Falling For Her Fake Fiancé (The Beaumont Heirs 5) by Sarah M. Anderson
Authors: Sarah M. Anderson
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plate away. “I’m actually surprised that my brother Matthew hasn’t called to lecture me about the Beaumont family name.”
Ethan was wrapped in the warm buzz of his alcohol. “Oh? That a problem?”
Frances waved her hand. “He’s the micromanager of our public image. Was VP of marketing before you showed up. He did a great job, too.”
She didn’t say it as if she was intentionally trying to score a hit, but he felt a little wounded anyway. “I didn’t fire him. He was gone before I got there.”
“Oh, I know.” She took another drink. “He left with Chadwick.”
Ethan was pondering this information when someone said, “Frannie?”
At the name, Frances’s eyes widened, and she sat bolt upright. She looked over Ethan’s shoulder and said, “Phillip?”
Phillip? Oh, right.
He remembered now. Phillip was one of her half brothers.
Oh, hell.
Ethan was one sheet to the wind and about to meet a Beaumont.
Frances stood as a strikingly blond man came around the table. He was holding the hand of a tall, athletic woman wearing blue jeans. “Phillip! Jo! I didn’t expect to see you guys here.”
Phillip kissed his sister on the cheek. “We decided it was time for our once-a-month dinner date.” As the woman named Jo hugged Frances, Phillip turned a gaze that was surprisingly friendly toward Ethan. “I’m Phillip Beaumont. And you are?” He stuck out his hand.
Ethan glanced at Frances, only to find that both she and Jo were watching this interaction with curiosity. “I’m Ethan Logan,” Ethan said, giving Phillip’s hand a firm shake.
He tried to pull his hand back, but it didn’t go anywhere. “Ah,” Phillip said. His smile grew—at the same time he clamped down on Ethan’s hand. “You’re running the Brewery these days.”
The strength with which Phillip had a hold on him was more than Ethan would have given him credit for. Ethan would have anticipated her brother to be someone pampered and posh and not particularly physically intimidating. But Phillip’s grip spoke of a man who worked with his hands for a living—and wasn’t afraid to use them for other purposes.
“Phillip manages the Beaumont Farm,” Frances said, her voice slightly louder than necessary. Ah, that explained it. “He raises the Percherons. And this is Jo, his wife. She trains horses.”
It was only then that Phillip let go of Ethan so Ethan could give Jo’s hand a quick shake. “A pleasure, Ms. Beaumont.”
To his surprise, Jo said, “Is it?” with the kind of smile that made no pretense of being polite. But she linked arms with Phillip and physically pulled him a step away.
“Would you like to join us?” Ethan offered, because it seemed like the sociable thing to do and also because he absolutely did not want Phillip Beaumont to catch a hint of fear. Ethan would act as though having his hot date with Frances suddenly crashed by an obviously overprotective older brother was the highlight of his night if it killed him.
And given the look on Phillip’s face, it just might.
“No,” Jo said. “That’s all right. You both look like you’re finishing up, anyway.”
Phillip said, “Frannie, can I talk with you—in private?”
That was a dismissal if Ethan had ever heard one. “I’ll be right back,” he genially offered. This called for a tactical retreat to the men’s room. “If you’ll excuse me,” he added to Frances.
“Of course,” she murmured, nodding her head in appreciation.
As Ethan walked away, he heard nothing but chilly silence.
* * *
“What are you doing?” Phillip didn’t so much say the words as hiss them. His fun-times smile never wavered, though.
In that moment Phillip sounded more like stuck-up Matthew than her formerly wild older brother. “I’m on a date. Same as you.”
Beside her, Jo snorted. But she didn’t say anything. She just watched. Sometimes—and not that Frances would ever tell her sister-in-law this—Jo kind of freaked her out. She was so quiet,
Ethan was wrapped in the warm buzz of his alcohol. “Oh? That a problem?”
Frances waved her hand. “He’s the micromanager of our public image. Was VP of marketing before you showed up. He did a great job, too.”
She didn’t say it as if she was intentionally trying to score a hit, but he felt a little wounded anyway. “I didn’t fire him. He was gone before I got there.”
“Oh, I know.” She took another drink. “He left with Chadwick.”
Ethan was pondering this information when someone said, “Frannie?”
At the name, Frances’s eyes widened, and she sat bolt upright. She looked over Ethan’s shoulder and said, “Phillip?”
Phillip? Oh, right.
He remembered now. Phillip was one of her half brothers.
Oh, hell.
Ethan was one sheet to the wind and about to meet a Beaumont.
Frances stood as a strikingly blond man came around the table. He was holding the hand of a tall, athletic woman wearing blue jeans. “Phillip! Jo! I didn’t expect to see you guys here.”
Phillip kissed his sister on the cheek. “We decided it was time for our once-a-month dinner date.” As the woman named Jo hugged Frances, Phillip turned a gaze that was surprisingly friendly toward Ethan. “I’m Phillip Beaumont. And you are?” He stuck out his hand.
Ethan glanced at Frances, only to find that both she and Jo were watching this interaction with curiosity. “I’m Ethan Logan,” Ethan said, giving Phillip’s hand a firm shake.
He tried to pull his hand back, but it didn’t go anywhere. “Ah,” Phillip said. His smile grew—at the same time he clamped down on Ethan’s hand. “You’re running the Brewery these days.”
The strength with which Phillip had a hold on him was more than Ethan would have given him credit for. Ethan would have anticipated her brother to be someone pampered and posh and not particularly physically intimidating. But Phillip’s grip spoke of a man who worked with his hands for a living—and wasn’t afraid to use them for other purposes.
“Phillip manages the Beaumont Farm,” Frances said, her voice slightly louder than necessary. Ah, that explained it. “He raises the Percherons. And this is Jo, his wife. She trains horses.”
It was only then that Phillip let go of Ethan so Ethan could give Jo’s hand a quick shake. “A pleasure, Ms. Beaumont.”
To his surprise, Jo said, “Is it?” with the kind of smile that made no pretense of being polite. But she linked arms with Phillip and physically pulled him a step away.
“Would you like to join us?” Ethan offered, because it seemed like the sociable thing to do and also because he absolutely did not want Phillip Beaumont to catch a hint of fear. Ethan would act as though having his hot date with Frances suddenly crashed by an obviously overprotective older brother was the highlight of his night if it killed him.
And given the look on Phillip’s face, it just might.
“No,” Jo said. “That’s all right. You both look like you’re finishing up, anyway.”
Phillip said, “Frannie, can I talk with you—in private?”
That was a dismissal if Ethan had ever heard one. “I’ll be right back,” he genially offered. This called for a tactical retreat to the men’s room. “If you’ll excuse me,” he added to Frances.
“Of course,” she murmured, nodding her head in appreciation.
As Ethan walked away, he heard nothing but chilly silence.
* * *
“What are you doing?” Phillip didn’t so much say the words as hiss them. His fun-times smile never wavered, though.
In that moment Phillip sounded more like stuck-up Matthew than her formerly wild older brother. “I’m on a date. Same as you.”
Beside her, Jo snorted. But she didn’t say anything. She just watched. Sometimes—and not that Frances would ever tell her sister-in-law this—Jo kind of freaked her out. She was so quiet,
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