Fake Marriage Box Set

Lacey pulled up after the sky had lightened up a bit more, but well before the sun started peeking over the horizon. She walked up to the house and sank down in the seat next to mine.

“How was Austin?” I asked her. We were long past greeting each other the usual way after all the years we’d known each other. Half the time we just picked up a conversation right where we’d left it the day before.

“The same,” she said. She’d been out that way visiting family she didn’t care much for. “How’s the new girl?”

“Emma?” I shrugged. “She’s good. She knows her shit.”

“You don’t sound convinced.” Lacey swung her head around to stare at me, her eyebrows rising up to hide under her cowboy hat. Her hair was cinched at her neck and free over her back. She was wearing a tank top, her freckly shoulders bare.

“I just can’t figure her out. She’s too quiet. She doesn’t laugh at any of my jokes.”

She grinned. “Neither does anyone else. Your jokes suck.”

“I mean, she doesn’t talk hardly at all. I don’t know if that’s just how she is or if it’s something else.”

Lacey’s grin got so wide it threatened to drop off the sides of her face. “She probably just doesn’t want to talk to you. Not that I blame her.” She broke into a long hard gale of laughter that brought tears to her eyes.

“Just come meet her and see what I mean,” I snapped, shooting her my stormiest look. But I couldn’t quite pull it off. Just looking at her got me smiling.

We walked over to the barn, shoving each other at first and giggling. We straightened up before stepping into the barn. Emma had her back to us and was fitting the Appaloosa we called Dusty with a halter. She was speaking low to her as she slipped the halter on. She rubbed Dusty’s neck, smiling up at the horse as she whispered to her.

I had to take in the view of that smile. It was small — nearly nonexistent — but a lot more than I’d seen in the last several days. I shook my head to clear some of the surprise. The girl had teeth and could show them. That was certainly a relief.

“Hey, Emma,” I said, walking closer with Lacey on my heels. “This is Lacey.”

Emma lost the smile as she turned away from Dusty to face us. She wasn’t wearing any makeup, but her cheeks were flushed with healthy color. Her lips twitched, but not into a smile. Her green eyes jumped from me to Lacey. I’d never seen eyes quite that color. I wanted to get a good long look at them, but I’d really scare her away if I leaned in just inches away from her face to stare her down.

Lacey stuck out her calloused hand, and Emma shook it firmly.

“Nice to meet you, Emma.”

“Nice to meet you,” she answered, nodding her head once, as I was learning she liked to do.

“Lacey here is in charge of training the horses on the ranch. She’s a barrel racer and one of the best riders you’re like to meet.”

Lacey shot a suspicious glance at me, her dark eyes narrowed, before turning back to Emma. “That’s a long way of saying I know how to ride a horse.” She laughed while Emma watched, straight-faced, her pretty green eyes steady as she rested her small hands in the pockets of her faded jeans. She was small — no more than five-five — but tough. You could tell by the way she held herself and jutted her chin out, daring you to pick a fight with her.

“She can ride a horse, that’s true,” I said. “But she can’t figure out how to set a stable right at the end of the day to save her life, so maybe you can help her with that, Emma.”

Lacey snorted a laugh as she flipped me off.

This tugged a real smile out of Emma, the first one I’d been able to see up close. My mouth nearly dropped open. It was gorgeous. The way her eyes brightened and got squinty at the same time, the flushed roundness of her cheeks as her lips lifted at the ends, the little dimple in one that I wanted to press with my fingertip. She put the smile away again quickly, which was good. I had to get a handle on myself. Sure, Emma was cute, but she wasn’t the first cute girl I’d ever seen. I had a job to do around here and needed to let Emma do her part of that without worrying over the swell of her hips or how warm her face became when she smiled.

“Why don’t you go find some real work to do, Pete, so Emma and I can get these horses out to the paddock for feeding and watering?” Lacey asked, hitching her eyebrow at me, her best troublemaking grin stretching over her lips.

A worry shot through me over leaving the two of them together. Lacey was bound to run her mouth, and she had the details of every dumbass thing I’d done over the last twenty-nine years. But, unlike when I was standing there, she usually had a good amount of positive things to say about me to other people.

I left them, turning my back to Lacey’s chatter and walking around the barn to the low wood building where I kept my tractor and baler. I had a lot to do today out in the field beyond the pastureland and a limited amount of daylight to do it in. Hard work always cleared my mind and, as I got started, I stopped thinking about Lacey and Emma gossiping together about how silly and immature I was.

Sweat worked on me like magic, always had. I hunched into my work under the blazing sun stopping for the occasional wat

er break. I stayed out in the field for most of the day, catching glimpses of the ladies as they moved around the barn. At one point, they rode by on two of the quarter horses, Lacey waving and Emma nodding solemnly as they passed.

By the end of the day, my skin was slick and warm from the afternoon’s steady sunshine, and my muscles were humming from the hard labor, but I felt good. The ranch was where I belonged. Not some fancy desk job in town or some classroom at the community college in Austin.

I dropped into my seat on the porch, joining Riley and Lacey, who were already there relaxing. Lacey handed me an ice cold beer from the fridge inside. I took it gratefully.

“Thanks, Lace.” I unscrewed the top and took a long, deep swallow.