Trust Fund Fiancé (Texas Cattleman's Club: Rags to Riches 4)

“Well, I—” Henrietta glanced from the both of them to her father, then back to them. “I have to admit, I was expecting you to tell us you two were dating, not...” She trailed off. Blinked.

“I know it seems quick, Mom,” Reagan said, stunned at the evenness of her tone. When inside her chest twisted a jumble of emotion—trepidation, fear...uncertainty. “But considering how long Zeke and I have known each other, not really. We just fell for one another, and it felt right.”

Good God, how the lies just rolled off her tongue. She was going to hell with a scarlet L for Liar emblazoned across her breasts.

“Is that so?” her father asked, finally speaking. “Then why is this the first time we’ve heard of this...relationship?”

Reagan hiked her chin up, straightening her shoulders and shifting out from under Ezekiel’s arm to meet her father’s narrowed gaze. This was their vicious cycle. His censure. Her hurt. Her defiance. Next, their mother would step in to soothe and arbitrate.

“Because we decided to keep it to ourselves until we were ready to share our personal business with everyone else. The only thing faster than Royal’s gossip grapevine is the speed of light. We wanted to make sure what we had was solid and real before opening ourselves up for the scrutiny that comes from just being a member of the Wingate family and a Sinclair. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“Speaking of that,” Douglas added, his attention swinging to Ezekiel. His expression hardened. “With all that Wingate Enterprises is embroiled in right now, you didn’t consider how that might affect Reagan?”

“Dad—”

“Of course I did, Douglas,” Ezekiel cut in, his tone like flint. “I would never want to expose her to any backlash or disrespect. Believe me, I’ve suffered enough, and I don’t want to subject her to that. Protecting her is my priority. But if my own past and this situation has taught me anything, it’s that life is too short and love too precious to allow things such as opinions and unfavorable press to determine how we live. Then there’s the fact that we are innocent, even if the court of public opinion has judged us. Family, our true friends and members of the Cattleman’s Club believe in and support us. And they will support and protect Reagan as well. As a member yourself, you understand the power and strength of that influence.”

Her father didn’t immediately reply, but he continued to silently study Ezekiel.

“And I believe the Wingates are innocent as well, Dad,” Reagan said. “We’ve known them for years, and they’ve always proven themselves to be upstanding, good people. The incidents of the last few weeks shouldn’t change that.” She inhaled a breath, reaching for Ezekiel’s hand, but before she could wrap her fingers around his, he was already entwining them together. “He’s a good man. An honorable one. I wouldn’t choose a man who didn’t deserve my heart and your trust.”

As soon as the words left her mouth, she flinched. Wished she could snatch them back. But they were already out there, and from the twist of her father’s lips, and the lowering of her mother’s lashes, hiding her gaze, she could read their thoughts.

The last one you chose was a real winner, wasn’t he? Got you pregnant, then abandoned you.

We don’t trust your judgment, much less your capability of picking a worthy man.

Fury flared bright and hot inside her. And underneath? Underneath lurked the aged but still pulsing wounds of hurt and humiliation. I’m not that girl anymore. When will you stop penalizing me for my mistakes? When will you love me again?

“And this sudden decision to marry wouldn’t have anything to do with your grandmother’s will?” her father retorted with a bite of sarcasm.

Hypocrite. Her fingers involuntarily tightened around Ezekiel’s. How did he dare to ask her that when he’d been throwing random man after man in front of her to marry her off? The only difference now was that she’d found Ezekiel instead of her father cherry-picking him.

“Dad, I don’t need—”

“Excuse me, Douglas,” Ezekiel interjected, his grip on her gentle but firm. “I’m sure I don’t have to tell you about your daughter. She’s not just beautiful, but kind, selfless, sensitive, whip smart, so sensitive that at times I want to wrap her up and hide her away so more unscrupulous people can’t take advantage of her tender heart. That’s who I want to be for her. A protector. Her champion. And her husband.”

It’s fake. It’s all for the pretense, she reminded herself as she stared up at Ezekiel, blinking. And yet...no one had ever spoken up for her, much less about her, so eloquently and beautifully. In this small instant, she almost believed him.

Almost believed those things of herself.

“I don’t appreciate you cutting me off, but for that, I’ll make an exception and like it,” she whispered.

Again, that half smile lifted a corner of his mouth, and when he shifted that gaze down to her, she tingled. Her skin. The blood in her veins.

The sex between her legs.

No. Nononono. Her brain sent a Mayday signal to her flesh.

“I don’t know if I deserve Reagan, but I will do everything in my power to try,” Ezekiel said, squeezing her fingers.

Affection brightened his eyes, and it wasn’t feigned for her parents’ benefit; she knew that. He did like her. “I know you have doubts, and I can’t blame you for them. But not about how I will care for your daughter.”

Her father stared at Ezekiel in silence, and he met Douglas’s stare without flinching or lowering his gaze. Not many men could do that. And she caught the glint of begrudging respect in her father’s eyes.

“You have our blessing,” Douglas finally said. He extended his hand toward Ezekiel.

And as the two men clasped hands, her mother beamed.