Page 36 of A Sunny Sweetheart for the Cowboy

Sounded like something Cadence would say, mimicking all the fantasy novels she read. “Are you a reader?”

Weston stared at her. “Your brain zigzags quicker than a barrel racer.”

“Thanks, I think.” He wasn’t lying. And it was no wonder he couldn’t keep up. She couldn’t, either. “Are you a reader?”

“Yeah?”

Paisley did a mental fist-pump. “I knew it.” Even though she’d never seen him with a paperback. Maybe some of the time he was focused on his phone, he was reading?

“I’m still wondering how you got there.” Watching her, Weston bent a carrot stick until it snapped.

“The quest. No one talks like that except people who read fantasy.”

His eyes brightened. “Who’s your favorite author?”

“No. No, not me. I don’t read.”

“Oh.” He gave his head a quick shake. “You lost me.”

Paisley took a step back. “It was only an observation.”

“How can someone not be a reader?”

“It’s one of the seven wonders of the world.”

“A… wonder?”

“Yeah, people wonder this and they wonder that. I just don’t see the point. Real life is distracting enough. People are fascinating, and I like trying to figure them out. Why would I waste that curiosity on something that’s not even real?”

“I…” He snapped his mouth shut and shook his head. “You can learn real, true things from fiction.”

Paisley shrugged. “But I don’t want to.” Argue with that, Mr. Sunshine.

Weston glugged half a bottle of water. “Suit yourself.” He shifted around her and mumbled something as he set his plate and water down on a stump. He set several pieces of wood into the sorry excuse for a fire — right, she’d been going to do that — before taking a seat.

She took a deep breath and contemplated the odd conversation they’d just had. No wonder the cowboy was confused. So was she.

Paisley took a seat across the fire from him. “Where did you go on your walk?”

He thumbed up the trail and took a big bite of his sandwich. The guy avoided answering questions just like Matthew. No one was going to urge someone else to talk with their mouth full.

She tried one more time. “Maybe more to the point, why?”

Weston cut a glare at her.

There was a hefty splash from over by the lake.

Before Paisley could turn, Weston’s eyes bulged, and he slammed his plate down. “I’m gonna kill that kid.” And he surged to his feet.

Chapter

Eleven

“Get out.”

“I didn’t mean to!” Matthew whined as he stumbled out of the water, soaking wet and shivering.

The only reason Weston halfway believed him was that he wore his tennis shoes. “You expect me to believe that after how you talked to me earlier?”

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