Page 33 of Pretend To Be My Cowboy
He didn’t have Kit’s easy charm or JJ’s confidence. Heck, he didn’t even have that boyish appeal that made Cody so popular with the ladies.
Nash knew from gossip around town that he had his fair share of admirers, but that didn’t mean he had a clue as to how to ask a woman out, let alone how to show her a good time once they were out.
Nash ignored the razzing going on around him, because apprehension was setting in. Was he really thinking about asking Emma out?
No. No, of course not. That couldn’t lead to anything good, and he well knew it. She was a city girl who wanted to go back home to her apartment in Chicago. That’s what she’d said, and he wasn’t about to keep her here for longer than she needed to be.
And then, just as he was starting to calm himself down, Cody kicked his pulse into red alert territory. “Hey Nash, your dad just arrived.”
Sure enough, seconds later, his father strode into the warehouse like he already owned it. “Son,” he greeted with his standard ‘all business’ nod. He turned to each of the men who called out a greeting. “Boys.”
Ask anyone in Aspire and they’d tell you that Nash Donahue was the spitting image of his father. They shared the same features, for the most part, although Patrick Donahue’s skin was weathered by a lifetime out in the sun, and his dark hair was threaded through with gray.
But they shared the same height and build, and on days like this Nash was reminded that they shared the same too-serious demeanor.
His father didn’t even seem to notice the jovial, joking atmosphere he’d walked into, his brows drawn down in concentration as he strode toward Nash. “So?” he asked. “Any news on the sale?”
What sale?Some mischievous, rebellious part of him wondered what would happen if he just played dumb. If he got himself out of the middle and not give a flying fig what decision Emma and her sisters made about this place.
But, of course, he’d never been stupid, and he couldn’t bury his head in the sand just because he liked the woman.
“No news,” he said.
“Is the O’Sullivan woman here?” He meant on the ranch, but his father looked around as if Nash might’ve been hiding her behind some equipment.
“No, she’s…” Inside. “Busy.”
“Busy, huh?” He sighed in irritation. “I was hoping to talk to her.”
Nash straightened, knowing exactly what his father wanted to talk to her about—selling. He’d pester her until she gave in. Sure, he’d be polite about it, but Patrick Donahue had a quiet force that was hard to reckon with.
Every protective instinct Nash had was screaming to keep Emma safe. Not that his father would harm her—of course he wouldn’t. But he’d press his case, and he’d push and pull until he got his way.
The last thing Emma needed right now was his father trying to pressure her on top of everything else she was facing.
“Well, she’s not here,” Nash said with a shrug, ignoring the curious looks from his friends. “And besides, she can’t do anything with the property just yet. There’s some legal holdup at the moment so it wouldn’t do any good to talk to her until that’s all figured out.”
His father frowned. “What’s the holdup? I thought the property went to some daughters from the big city. Thought they’d want to sell as soon as possible.”
“Yeah, well, there were some unexpected holdups.” Like the fact that there were now seven sisters whose support they’d need, not the three they’d anticipated.
“What kind of holdup?” his father asked, eyes narrowing.
Nash looked around at the four men he was closest to in the world.
He trusted them. Of course he did. But this wasn’t his story to tell, and he had to respect Emma’s privacy. “Just some red tape the family has to sort through,” he said.
His father gave a grunt of disappointment. The sooner this deal was done, the better, as far as his dad was concerned. His frown morphed to a slightly different shape as he smoothly changed the subject. “Found yourself a date to Casey’s wedding yet?” Before he could answer, his father continued. “Your mother is driving me crazy. And you know how I feel about that. Don’t tell me you haven’t met at least one woman you could bring to the wedding.”
“Uh…” Nash looked to his friends, as if they might have some new excuse he hadn’t already thought of.
Kit flashed him a wicked grin. “Oh, he’s found himself a date, all right.”
Patrick’s brows shot up. “Oh yeah?” He turned to Nash, but JJ stepped in.
“Her name’s Emma.”
Nash glared at his friends. What on earth were they playing at?
