Page 29 of The Cowboy's Second Chance Bride

I handed the phone to her. “I told you so.”

She gave a clipped, bitter laugh. “I knew you would think it had something to do with you, but this client had been hemming and hawing for weeks now. Only yesterday did they decide to take the leap. And maybe they did get cold feet when they saw the articles about us. Who cares? If they’re that skittish, I can’t help them find a good match.”

I pointed to Paul’s phone. “Images like that will only represent more of a challenge for my dad. He loves a good fight.”

“Then we should give him one.” Sabrina held up her phone. “If there is a slight chance, and I don’t believe there is, that your dad had anything to do with my client, then I want to fight back. How dare he?” She stuck a hand on her hip, her eyes flashing with anger.

“What do you meanagain?” I asked.

“What are you talking about?”

“You said ‘pretend to be dating again.’”

Her smile was wry. “Heard that, did you? Then. Now. What does real even mean? Do you really want to have this argument?”

No. No, I did not. I wanted to go back to a time when our lives were separate and she was safe.

I dropped onto the couch next to Paul, winced, and scratched my brow. “I no more want to revisit the past than I want to have to argue about why this pretend dating is a bad idea. Sorry. I don’t want to play fake house with you, Reenie. I just don’t. Not even to test the app.”

I met her gaze and held it. I didn’t want to hurt her, but I knew if this train continued to barrel down the track without a conductor, we were going to crash, and people—maybe both of us—were going to get hurt. Hadn’t I hurt her enough already?

Paul leaned forward. “Well, it’s Sabrina or no one. There is no changing that after today’s press conference.”

It had always been Sabrina or no one. That was the irony of this situation. Even now, looking at her from across the room, I could feel the pull of her: my unexplained need that made me want to touch her all day, every day. Not grope her—not that I wouldn’t mind getting handsy with Sabrina—but tucking her hair behind her ears, running my thumb across her cheek, holding her hand. Those innocuous moments had always given me enough of a fix to last until I could touch her again.

“Would it make you feel better to know you’ll be paying me and paying me well? Because I did just lose a client and that income, and I have some goals I’m trying to hit.”

“What goals?”

“None-of-your-business goals.”

I shook my head. “Does it seem weird to pay the woman I am supposed to be dating? Can you imagine the field day my father would have?”

Paul grunted in agreement. “We’re not paying her to date you. We’re paying her for her expertise.”

“Nope, not gonna work. Let’s just call it,” I said.

She met my gaze and held steady. “Believe it or not, I don’t want to play house with you either. I have a possible documentary deal coming up. I was going to go to Jace and Meredith’s and take some downtime. I have some deadlines to meet and things to do, and you aren’t one of them. Pretending I enjoy your company so much that I want to climb you like a tree is not going to be easy for me. It’ll be stressful and uncomfortable because you aren’t the easiest man to be around. But I do not like to be handled. And I dislike it even more than I dislike you. And you need this. Your company needs this. Do this for all the people out there getting bad advice. For all the women who are scared and don’t know what to do. We take a few pictures together on ‘dates’”—she did air quotes—“I drop them on my socials, and we’re as good as gold.”

I groaned. With Sabrina teetering toward Paul’s ideas, this whole thing felt like it was getting out of control. Was it just yesterday I flew in from Peru? In twenty-four hours, my life had gone upside down in a way I never could have imagined.

Sabrina

Cal was trying to do that Jedi mind trick where if he stared long enough, he believed it would make a person feel uncomfortable enough to blurt out what they were thinking.

Well, you’ve got another think coming, buddy.

This wasn’t my first Calvin Beckett rodeo; only this time, I wore spurs, and I was going to make him buck. One look at that picture had firmed my resolve. Cal was still attracted to me. Anyone who knew him could see it on his face, plain as day. I’d taken one look at that image and knew I could give back to Cal a little of what he had given me when he’d left. Maybe not heartbreak but longing. Oh, how I’d missed him. Missed his hand in mine. Missed the comfort of his hug. When my dad had died, I hadn’t gone through it alone—I’d had friends around me—but that’s when I’d felt Cal’s absence the most and really could have used a hug from Cal back then. He had a way of wrapping me up tightly, his big arms around me, that made me feel like everything was going to be okay. He gave me strength somehow. But I hadn’t even had his friendship to call on back then. Nope. Nothing.

I wanted him to remember how good we’d been together. I wanted to know leaving me hadn’t been easy. And when this was all over, maybe the wound in my heart would be a little smaller. The universe was handing me the perfect opportunity to remind him of what once was.

We were to spend copious amounts of time together. Fake date, if you will. Easy-peasy.

Easy-peasy? Who am I kidding?

I pushed away the thoughts. It wasn’t like I would fall in love with him, because I’d never fallen out of love with him. I’d just come to understand we weren’t meant to be.

I’d believed what Cal and I had together was unlike what most people had. That was what made it hurt all the more. At the end, he’d walked away so easily that he seemed to have not felt like I did.

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