Page 8 of More Than a Blind Date

She gives a quick head shake.

“Then give me your phone.”

Once she hands it over, I enter my digits, then send a message to my phone so that I have her number. “I’ll call you later.”

“Okay.” She worries her bottom lip while smiling at me. And after staring for several seconds, she reaches for the handle. “I should go.”

Footsteps draw closer, and then Dag’s distinctive laugh rings out. He’s walking this way because his truck is parked beside Rose’s Camry.

Now we have an audience, so I lean in and brush my lips on hers. “Goodnight.”

She grins, then wraps me in a tight hug.

I open her door and wait until she’s buckled in before closing it. She probably has a hundred messages waiting for a response, and that’ll keep her occupied for a while.

I might get a few, but on the drive back home, I’ll have time alone to think about how I want to respond. Deceiving my friends feels meh, but I’m not much help if Rose’s parents figure out her plot.

In my truck, I start the engine, then check my phone. There are a couple of messages waiting. Just before I shift into gear to pull out of the parking spot, the passenger side door swings open.

Anderson climbs in. “I rode over with Parker. But I’m driving back with you because I have questions.”

So much for having time to think.

“Ask away.” This will be good practice for when I’m with all the guys.

Of all the ranch hands, I’m probably closest to Anderson. Not sure how that happened, and I’m sure we look ridiculous when we stand around and talk. But he’s a good friend. Not being straight with him will be hard.

“But first, thank you for getting dinner. That was unexpected.”

“It was nothing. This is your bachelor party. I’m really excited for you. And I’m glad you sat on that cactus.”

“Me too.” Staring at me, he rubs his jaw. “Is she in some sort of trouble? Is this a thing where she needs to get married to avoid being deported? I mean, she looks like a local, but I’m grasping here. Or is it about an inheritance? If she’s not married by her twenty-sixth birthday, she gets nothing. Am I close?”

I’m shocked that he guessed so close to her actual age. “You’ve been watching too many Hallmark movies.”

He grins. “Primrose likes them. So, yeah. But seriously, what’s happening? I know the proposal wasn’t planned. I saw her pull the ring out of her pocket. Not you. Besides, you hadn’t met this woman before tonight. For someone who swore they’d given up on the white-picket-fence dream, you sure proposed quickly. So I’m not buying it.”

It's stressing me that Anderson is skating so close to the truth. And that he knows me so well. “You don’t follow me everywhere. Maybe I’ve been dating her a while.”

“You haven’t. Normally—with a few exceptions—you walk around looking like you’ve been sipping pickle juice. And since that woman showed up, that look has not appeared. Even now, you look…” He laughs. “Brace yourself for this bit of truth, but Dallas, you look happy.”

“That’s some real science you’re basing your ideas on.”

“Were you married or just engaged before? Or was it just a serious relationship?”

Now I’m getting downright uncomfortable. “What are you talking about?”

“You transitioned from grumpy cowboy to doting boyfriend in the flip of a switch. It was mesmerizing to watch. But I’m thinking you’ve been in that role before.”

Maybe giving a little truth will help me keep my secret with Rose. “I was engaged. She broke it off right before the wedding. That was years ago. Before I worked at Stargazer Springs.”

“That explains a lot. And I’m sorry that happened. Want to talk about it?”

“No.”

“Fair enough. But let’s talk about tonight and your new fiancée. What’s her name?”

“Rose.”

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