Page 9 of Pretend To Be My Cowboy
It wasn’t like she was so very repugnant to men, just...the men she found attractive. The only guys who ever asked her out were the kind who looked at her and saw a future she had no interest in sharing.
Maybe it was because she was a teacher, or maybe because she was usually described as ‘cute’ or ‘sweet’—sometimes even adorable—but never hot. Never beautiful.
Definitely not sexy.
So the guys who were attracted all seemed to share one misguided notion about who she was. And that was that—she was their mother. Or the next best thing.
Yes, she liked to bake, and of course she adored children. But did that really mean she wasn’t fit for romance?
Was it asking for too much that she meet a guy who looked at her like she was gorgeous? Would it be so bad to feel those wonderfully delicious romantic feelings for a guy who actually liked her back?
“After you.” Nash gestured toward the house, and it was only then that she realized she’d been standing there for too long, inhaling his delicious, manly-man scent of leather and grass and soap.
Pushing her shoulders back, she led the way up the steps and through the unlocked door. She stopped inside and held her breath.
Why was she holding her breath? She couldn’t say. The empty foyer felt sacred or something. Like she could feel her father’s presence if she tried.
She did try, but all she felt was the wind whipping past her into the house.
“The wind picks up something fierce this time of the day,” Nash said as he stepped in behind her and shut the door.
“Can I...should I…” She fidgeted with her purse that she clutched like a blankie. A big part of her wanted to call Lizzy, just to have her voice with her while she went through their father’s house. “Can I look around?”
She winced. What a silly question. This was technically her house now. Hers and Lizzy’s. But it definitely didn’t feel that way. Especially not with the way Nash was making himself at home, slipping off his boots, hanging up his cowboy hat and dropping keys onto a side table with a clatter.
“Of course,” Nash said with a small smile. “It’s your house. I just live here.”
“You do?” She could have kicked herself. Where did she think he lived? The barn?
He gave her another small smile in response. Not much more than an upward tick of one corner of his mouth, but it was enough to soften his features, and—
Oh dear.
Emma looked away with a quick inhale. His features did not need softening. It was bad enough that he was hotter than Hades. She wasn’t sure she could handle it if he looked at her with tenderness.
She stepped away from him, hoping to get some distance, but he followed, gesturing toward a door to her right. “I stay in the west wing on the lower level.”
She came to a stop at the bottom of a wide, winding staircase that opened to a loft landing which she could tell from here held some killer views of the mountain range to the south.
He pointed upward. “Your father’s bedroom and office were up there if you want to check it out.”
She nodded but made no move to take a step. Why was this so hard? It shouldn’t be. She barely knew the man.
But even as she told herself that, an onslaught of heavy emotions seemed to pile on top of her. It settled in her chest, and for the life of her she couldn’t even make heads or tails of what this was.
Bitterness? Regret? Guilt? Fear?
Maybe all of the above.
Nash moved to her side and lifted his chin toward the stairwell. “Would you like me to take you up there?”
His voice was gentle, his expression kind. And that little show of support gave her the surge of courage she needed to head up the stairs, Nash following just behind.
He filled the heavy silence as they trod up the carpeted steps. “There’s another guest area on the lower east side of the house that you can use, if you’d like. Jody, the housekeeper, comes regularly to tidy up the place. She made up a room for you downstairs, but if you’d rather be up here... I know this was where your father and Loretta—”
“Loretta?”She stopped short at the top of the steps.
He joined her on the landing. “Frank’s wife.”
