Page 78 of Pretend To Be My Cowboy
He was making it clear to the town that he was off the market.
She couldn’t raise her gaze above the stubble on his jaw.
Fake. This was all for show.
He kissed her to make a statement.
And she…
She was the idiot she’d promised herself she wouldn’t be. She’d gone and forgotten the fact that this wasn’t real.
She’d gone and lost her heart for good.
25
Nash’s heart was full to bursting.
This night couldn’t have been any more perfect. His gaze fell on Emma as she laughed over something Casey whispered in her ear when the two said their goodbyes.
Emma couldn’t have been any more perfect.
His sister and “girlfriend” were hugging, and a small crowd was waiting their turn to say goodnight. Emma was a hit. All night, everyone had wanted to talk to her, to dance with her. And he knew it wasn’t because she was Nash Donahue’s new lady.
It was because she was Emma. A beacon of warmth and love and joy, and everyone could see that.
“Glad to see you two hitting it off so well.” His father’s voice made him tense.
Nash turned to face him as his mother joined the group clustered around Emma. “Did you and Mom have a good night?”
His father didn’t seem to hear him. Patrick’s gaze was on Emma, and Nash hated the predatory gleam he saw there. “What’s the latest?”
Nash just barely held back a sigh. He wasn’t about to pretend not to understand. “No decision yet.”
“Hmph,” his father grunted. Definitely not what he wanted to hear. “Maybe if I give them an actual offer and they see the number—”
“Not a good idea.” Nash shook his head.
“But—”
“Dad, I’m handling this.” Nash wasn’t even sure where this tone came from. He was never so forceful with his father. Heck, he never even talked to his employees like this.
His father’s brows arched slightly, and irritation flickered in his eyes. “Now listen here, son. I’m happy to see you hitting it off with the O’Sullivan girl, but don’t you forget where your loyalties lie.”
“I haven’t—”
“This isn’t for me,” Patrick continued.
Nash bit back a bitter laugh. Wasn’t it?
“Do you want to go on working someone else’s land for the rest of your life?”
Nash pressed his lips into a grim line, his pride smarting and some childish part of him hurting that what he was doing wasn’t enough for his father. He wanted to make his dad proud, he always had. And of course he’d like to own his own place someday, but he didn’t share his father’s driving need to expand and conquer. He didn’t need some giant ranching enterprise, he just wanted what he had—he was his own boss, even if he didn’t own the place. And that was what mattered.
He had a good job, great co-workers, and a place to call home.
His gaze flickered back over to Emma. Since she’d arrived, it’d felt more like home than it ever had. It’d become more than just Frank’s big, empty house. The rooms had been lit with laughter and warmth. That was all Emma’s doing, and Nash hated to think how hollow the place would be when she returned to Chicago.
“Everything I do is for you, your mother, and your sister,” Patrick continued.
