Fake Marriage Box Set

“Just breakfast,” I agreed, unable to keep from grinning as that warmth licked at my body from the strength of her unwavering stare. I turned on my booted heel and left before she could change her mind.

I moved through the rest of the day like a man newly released from death row — a little stunned at the reprieve, but happy as a pig in slop despite how completely off my game I felt. I had another shot, and I didn’t mean to blow it. I aimed to get this figured out. Somehow.

At the end of the day, Lacey was waiting for me on the porch, an ice cold beer in hand. She had another one on the ground next to her chair that she handed to me after I sank into my own seat. We clinked the necks of our bottles together and then took long swigs of the frosty, bubbly liquid that was like heaven after so many hours out in the sun.

I watched Emma leave the barn and walk to her car. She waved, then got in and drove away, leaving nothing but dust behind her. A part of me ached at seeing her leave. Though I knew she was the type who’d never leave a job without putting in notice, I worried just the same.

“Di

d you set things right with her?” Lacey asked. “She still seemed off today.”

I turned to look over at her. “We talked.” I shook my head. “Well, I did. We’re going to breakfast tomorrow. I’m hoping to straighten things out then.”

Lacey looked ready to fly out of her seat and slap me silly. I’d never seen her so deeply pissed at me in all the years we’d known each other. “I really like Emma. She’s good for the farm. Hell, she’d even be good for you if you could get your shit together long enough to convince her of that.” She took another swig of her beer. “Do not fuck this up, Pete. You make her feel comfortable enough to stay, or so help me, I’ll take you out behind the barn and beat the shit out of you.”

I sat back in my seat, blinking. I believed her. “Goddamn, Lace, I’ll do my level best.”

She nodded once the way Emma would and didn’t say another word on the subject as we finished drinking our beers.

Chapter Sixteen

Emma

Friday

I didn’t sleep well and woke earlier than usual, my stomach twisted into painful knots and body sore from so much tossing and turning. I was dreading going to the ranch more today than I had on Monday morning.

My plan then had been just to lie low for a while, let things blow over so Pete and I could get back to the way things had been before we slept together. It was working, too…except for any time we met each other’s gaze or were in the same place. That need I saw in him last Friday night was there all the time now. It pulled at me, flooded me with my own tingling desire for the feel of his body beneath my fingers. But no good would come of that. I obviously had to take charge of setting things straight myself instead of waiting for them to take care of themselves.

I drove to the ranch in the dark, the dread sitting heavy in my belly. I shouldn’t have agreed to leave the ranch with Pete. I could put my foot down, but we’d still be alone on the ranch together. Might as well go to the Texan where it wouldn’t just be the two of us.

Pete was standing in front of the house, waiting for me. I took a deep breath as I climbed out of my car. He was already walking over.

“Morning,” he said, sounding cheerful as usual. Wasn’t his gut full of twisting nerves? Or was that just me?

“Morning,” I replied. I was glad for the dark. I could feel the weight of his eyes moving over me, but I couldn’t see the heat in them, that need that matched what I felt inside.

“You ready to eat?”

I nodded once, though I couldn’t imagine my belly playing nice with anything I tried to put inside of it this morning. We climbed into his truck and drove into town. He tried to get conversation going a few times, but I kept my answers short. I hated this, wanting to talk to him but not really knowing what to say. I’d felt so comfortable at the ranch before all this. That was the worst part about it. Now I couldn’t do a damned thing without feeling self-conscious about how it looked or what kind of message it was sending.

There were only a few cars in the lot at the Texan. We parked and went inside, Pete holding the door so I could go in ahead of him. The place was empty besides the table in the far corner where the regular group of four old men were talking as they nursed cups of coffee. The one Pete had called Big Tom called out to us as soon as we walked in.

“Come on over, son! We’re not letting you keep that pretty girl all to yourself this morning!”

Pete grinned at me, his eyebrows high. “Want to have a cup of coffee with the old timers?”

I nodded, the flood of relief washing away the worst of my nerves. “Sure.” Anything that kept us from an awkward conversation by ourselves sounded good to me. Pete went around, shaking hands. When he got to Big Tom, he leaned in to give the man a hug. We pulled up chairs and sat down next to each other, the men eyeing me closely, each one smiling. Pete went around, pointing to each man as he introduced them to me again.

“That’s Tex, Big Tom, Laraby, and Winston.”

I had to smile at the way each man tipped his hat to me when his name was called. “Pleased to meet y’all again.”

Big Tom grinned as he looked over at Pete. “Have you taught the little lady how to play the game?”

Pete laughed and shook his head. “She’s only been to the Texan once. But she’s smart as a whip. You teach her once, and she’ll be beating you before you need a refill on that coffee.”

The men laughed as my cheeks tingled red at the high praise.