Page 45 of A Cameo for a Cowgirl

“Just like with filming, hey?”

“Absolutely. So, tell me what you wore. I bet you looked beautiful.”

“I have to admit it was one of my finer moments.”

“Okay, I need to see a photo. Have you got one?”

“Of me?”

“Of course of you. I saw one of the bride and groom that Hannah posted—we follow each other on Instagram—but I want to see one of you.”

Okay, then. Cassie pulled out her phone, showed Ainsley the photo that Bree had taken when Cassie had been standing at the front of the church, her face in profile as she smiled at Franklin while he’d pretended not to tear up. The light from the stained glass added a softness to her features, her upswept hair and makeup and fancy dress making her look like she was ready to feature in her own starring role.

“Oh, Cassie. You look gorgeous.”

The thought that someone as beautiful as Ainsley Beckett describing Cassie as gorgeous drew gladness around her heart. “Thanks. I don’t wear dresses too often,” she confessed. “I was just relieved I was able to walk in high heels.”

“I love your dress, too.” Ainsley zoomed in on the picture. “So pretty.”

“Pink isn’t my usual speed, but it worked.”

“As did that style of dress. Ooh la la.”

She smiled. Yes, the cut of the dress had done her figure plenty of favors.

“Is that a photo of you?”

Cassie stilled, and went to retrieve her phone, but she couldn’t very well snatch it from Ainsley’s hand. Not when Ainsley was showing it to Harrison, who whistled.

“Oh, sorry, Cassie.” Ainsley winced. “I should’ve asked. I get so used to showing others my own pictures.”

“It’s okay,” she murmured, peeking at Harrison. Why hadn’t he said anything?

“Doesn’t she look gorgeous?” Ainsley prodded him.

His gaze lifted from the screen and met Cassie’s. She swallowed at the intensity in his eyes.

“Really beautiful.”

“Th-thanks.”

“I mean it.”

Ainsley softly chuckled as she handed back the phone. “I think he does. I don’t think he’s once said that about me,” she confided, adding a wink for good measure.

“Maybe he just needs someone to prompt him the way you did for me.”

“I didn’t need prompting,” Harrison said to Cassie, a slight frown in his eyes now. “I do think you’re beautiful. And not just when you’re all dressed up.”

Her throat cinched, her chest growing tight.

“And that sounds like my cue to leave,” Ainsley murmured, slipping away.

Cassie couldn’t look away even if she wanted to.

Harrison angled himself closer, blocking out the increased bustle in the dining tent. “I missed you this weekend.”

Her mouth was still dry from his first compliment. Her brain could barely cope with any more. Did he truly mean these things he kept saying?

---