Page 8 of Faking it with the Cowboy

“I figured that wouldn’t change. You’ve always known exactly what you want.” She smiled to herself as she pierced another piece of pasta. “You know, if you’re going to pose as my boyfriend at that wedding, we need to start talking about how we’re going to handle things.”

“Like what?”

“Well, like, do you have anything to wear that’s not denim?” She tilted her head and eyed me from hat to boots. “A suit, maybe?”

“Don’t you worry, honeybee, I’ll clean up real nice for you. I’ve got the one I wore to Owen’s wedding a while back.” I was pissed when Mama Mae insisted I spend my hard-earned cash on something I’d probably only wear once in my life, but now it would come in handy.

“And we’re going to have to come up with a story about how we reconnected.”

I set down my plate, then laid down on my back and rested my head on my arms. “The closer we stick to the truth, the easier it will be to not fuck up. Can’t we just say your mom ran into Mama Mae in town and we ended up getting each other’s numbers that way?”

“Sure. But when did we start dating?”

“When I came home for a visit and stopped in Dallas on the way?” I suggested. Talking about playing pretend made the lines between make-believe and reality blur together. “The second you saw me standing in your doorway, you were overwhelmed with emotion and threw yourself at me, begging me to make you mine.”

Her lip quirked up at the corner. “He’ll never believe that. I think you need to be the one who fell for me first.”

She had no idea how close that skated to the truth. “Oh yeah? What would that have looked like?”

“Hmm.” Jericho bit down on her bottom lip and stretched out her legs. “Let’s say you stopped in Dallas so we could meet up for dinner on your way home for the weekend.”

“Steaks or barbecue?”

“Does it matter?”

I chuckled, enjoying the banter between us. “Everything matters.”

“Fine. Steaks.”

I shook my head, a teasing smile tugging at my lips. “Nah. Barbecue is more casual. I think we would have picked that.”

“Are you going to be this difficult about everything?” She leveled me with a pointed stare.

“Just want to make sure I get it right. Did I bring flowers?”

A hint of surprise flashed in her eyes as she nodded. “Daisies. Roses would be too much.”

“You like daisies better, anyway.”

“What makes you say that?” Her forehead creased like she was surprised I knew that about her.

“That time junior year when Wes Winkleman asked you to prom with a bouquet of roses. Remember?” I turned my head to see her nod. “You told me after that if a guy ever brought you flowers, you hoped they’d be daisies, not roses.”

“I can’t believe you remember that.”

My throat went dry. I’d never tell her that I remembered everything. Every look, every touch, every word shared between us. She’d never speak to me again if she knew my feelings for her ran way deeper than friendship. I’d let her walk out of my life once. I wasn’t about to let it happen again, even if I never made it out of the friend zone.

Trying to get back on track with our fake story, I cleared my throat. “So I brought you daisies, then we headed out for dinner. What happened next?”

“I think I was so glad to see you that I threw myself into your arms. Then you kissed me.”

My cock twitched. It liked the way this story was shaping up. I rolled onto my side, hoping I wouldn’t go full-fledged boner on her. “What kind of kiss?”

“Soft and sweet?” she suggested. “What do you think about that?”

If I ever had the chance to get my hands on her, there’d be nothing soft or sweet about it. “Hell, Jericho. I’m not exactly a tenderhearted guy.”

She bent forward, lowering her head until we stared each other right in the eyes. “Try it.”

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