Fake Marriage Box Set

Lacey turned, the brush pausing over Max’s withers. He whinnied and shook his head, displeased with the sudden stop to the attention.

“All I ask is that you don’t hurt him. He seems tough, but he ain’t. He’s lost a lot of people close to him.” Her brown eyes were fixed on me, a shadow falling over her face that made it clear how much concern she felt over this. “You’d think that would make him good at getting over being hurt, but it did just the opposite. He’s a lot more sensitive than he seems.”

“He’s a sweet man,” I said, smiling as I tilted my head. “I won’t hurt him. I promise.”

Lacey smiled, too. “You’re good for him, Emma. I’m glad he found you.”

Before I could respond to that, Pete appeared outside of the corral. The moment passed and Lacey went back to grooming Max unnecessarily. Pete let himself into the fenced area full of riders readying their horses and walked over to us.

“You ready, Lace?” he asked, grinning at her, his blue eyes lit up.

She kept her face

grim and determined. “Ready as I’m gonna be.”

He clapped her on the back. “We’ll be rooting for you in the stands.” He turned to me, those blue eyes wide enough to weaken my knees a little. I just couldn’t get used to how striking his eyes were. “Are you ready, Emma?”

“Good luck, Lacey,” I said; she nodded, not looking at me, her jaw clenched as she worried over Max. I could see she needed a few moments to herself. Pete held out his hand, and I took it. We left the corral and went to find seats high up in the stands where we’d have a good view of the action. No one was in the area below us, just three barrels set up in a cloverleaf pattern I’d seen duplicated more than a few times on the ranch.

“Lacey’ll come shooting out of there,” Pete began to explain, pointing a thick finger at the far side of the arena.

“She’s got to cross an official standing at the start of the race with a flag. When she runs by, he’ll drop it so the timer starts. She’ll loop around that barrel first.” He pointed to the one on the right. “Then that one.” He pointed to the one directly across from it on the left. “And then that last one.” He pointed at the one set further back from the others. “She and Max’ll go back the way they came. As soon as she passes the starting line, the man will wave the flag again, and the timer will stop.”

Lacey had explained all this to me on the farm, and I’d seen her trotting around the coral with Max, turning him in tighter and tighter circles, leaning so far I thought he’d topple over on top of her. But seeing the course in person was completely different. It was the size of the arena and all the people sitting around, waiting to see the riders begin. My stomach twisted with anxiety for her.

“At a bigger rodeo like the one Lacey’ll do in a few weeks, they use an electric eye.”

“Do riders ever get hurt?” I asked, cutting into his description of what an electric eye was. Lacey’d already told me about all of that, too.

Pete shrugged in my peripheral vision, but I kept my eyes pinned on the cloverleaf pattern below us, imagining Max and Lacey running through them, leaning dangerously to one side and then the other.

“Nah, not really,” he said. “Accidents can happen, but if you came to do this, you know what you’re doing.”

That wasn’t very comforting.

The announcer broadcast the start of the barrel racing event over the loudspeaker. My gut twisted harder, and I squeezed my hands together to keep from squirming in my seat. Lacey was the first rider. The announcer called her and Max by name. The crowd roared, then a hush fell over it as the official walked from the side of the arena, a large flag in one hand.

“Here we go,” Pete whispered, nearly under his breath.

Lacey walked Max through the entrance of the arena. She went to line him up and, without warning, took off at a dead run. She raced past the man at the start line, and he dropped his flag, starting the timer.

“Go, Lacey!” Pete hollered. “You got this!”

My hands tightened in my lap as she grabbed hold of the horn of the saddle with one hand and controlled the reins with the other, looping Max tightly around the first barrel. They rode hard for the second barrel, slowing just a little to make the second of three tight turns. My heart leaped into my throat and stayed there, racing hard.

“Come on, Lace! Finish strong!” Pete screamed, beating his feet on the stands.

Lacey and Max turned tight around the final barrel, her legs pressing against his sides to keep herself deep in the saddle. After clearing the last barrel, she took the reins in both hands and leaned forward, kicking both legs to get Max down the straight shot back to the finish line. As soon as she crossed, the official waved the flag, but she and Max kept going, slowing a bit as they shot out of the arena the same way they’d come in, Lacey grinning and rubbing the horse’s neck as they ran out of sight.

The crowd roared their approval.

Pete let out a triumphant whoop when the announcer reported her score. Eighteen seconds flat.

I grinned as all those nerves left my body and turned my face up to receive Pete’s kiss when he leaned in for one.

“She just beat her best time!” he said, his eyes sparkling with pride for his friend.

Looking at how excited he was, I had to remind myself that Lacey and Pete were just good friends. Not that it guaranteed that was how things would stay between them.