Page 85 of Pretend To Be My Cowboy
Casey was always pretty, but tonight she seemed to glow in a pale pink silk sheath with her hair twisted up atop her head.
Casey beamed. “Thanks. But I feel like I’m going to burst right now. I’m so impatient to be married.”
Emma smiled, ignoring a stab of envy.
Casey looked past her. “Where’s Nash?”
“He’s talking to your dad out by the bar.”
Casey rolled her eyes with a groan. “It’s always business with those two. They seriously cannot be in the same room without going on and on about ranch stuff. So boring.” She made a funny face, but Emma couldn’t bring herself to laugh.
Instead, she forced a smile. “Want me to go break it up?”
Casey’s brows arched. “Would you? Toasts are about to start, we’re gonna do a couple before the meal is served, and I don’t want you to miss them.”
“Of course.” Emma turned back the way she’d come. Her smile still felt strained as she returned the greetings of Nash’s aunts and uncles on her way to the bar.
It wasn’t that she didn’t like Nash’s family, it was that shedid. Way too much for her own good.
After spending all that time with them at the barbecue, church, and then the festival, it was hard to imagine how Nash could keep up the pretense around these people who loved him so much.
Personally, Emma wasn’t sure she’d be able to do it much longer even if she was staying in town. Her mind flashed back to the kiss.
No, she knew she couldn’t keep this up any longer, and not because of the guilt. Her heart couldn’t take much more of this. It already felt like it was breaking in two.
She spotted Nash and his father, their heads tipped together as they talked. They were so deep in conversation, they seemed oblivious to the world around them.
Emma’s stomach turned with unease at the glower on Nash’s face. He looked so different from the Nash she’d been getting to know. A Nash who was quiet and serious, yes, but who wasn’t quick to anger or even frustration.
He was even-keeled, which made this dark expression that much more concerning.
She inched a little closer, wondering how she was supposed to interrupt whatever they were talking about.
“I told you I’d handle it,” Nash was saying.
Patrick raised his hands as if to pacify him. “I know you’re trying your best to do right by our family. But we need to own the O’Sullivan Ranch.”
“You know family means everything to me, Dad, but you have to let me do this my way.”
They still hadn’t seen her hovering at the edge of a crowd, and her feet had frozen at the mention of her family name.
“Nash, I trust you.” Again, Patrick seemed to be trying to calm his son. “I know you’ll get us the ranch.” The older man gave a short laugh. “Even if you do have to marry the girl.”
The floor shifted. The earth seemed to tilt.
She held her breath as she waited for Nash to say something. Anything. She wanted him to look confused and ask what on earth the older man was talking about. But he didn’t do that. He seemed to know exactly what Patrick was saying.
They were talking about Nash marrying the girl, using her to get the land.
Oh my gosh. I’m that girl!
Hearts must be able to freeze over. What else could explain the cold pain expanding in her chest?
She wasn’t sure if she made a noise—some kind of pitiful whimper or a heart-wrenching sound of disbelief—but something had Nash looking over, his gaze colliding with hers.
She saw his eyes widen in horror.
Busted.
