Page 13 of Seaside Cowboy's Marriage of Convenience

He cleared his throat. “Most of it you already know. I love my job and am grateful to have it. Well, except for tragic moments when we can’t save an animal. I was born and raised near Port Sunshine. I have seven brothers. Two of them are married now.” He smiled. “One of them to your friend, Marina. Small world, huh?”

“It sure is.” She was grateful Marina had become her friend. She didn’t make friends easily. Who did, being an introvert and workaholic? Add to that how lots of people had befriended her to use her, and she’d become a hermit crab, inside her shell for a long time and carrying it with her everywhere she went, ready to retreat in an instant. It wasn’t easy to step out now and be vulnerable to rejection.

“My family is close-knit and has a ranch where I grew up. Whatever time I don’t spend at the veterinary clinic or animal shelter, I spend there. My mom runs the ranch, and she’s fantastic. My dad...” A shadow passed over his face. “He died from what was ruled suicide.”

Hmm. Interesting word choice “was ruled.” But she already knew all that.

“I have the golden retriever mix puppy you met. She’s so loving and adorable. I often foster animals from the shelter before they get adopted. But now, I only have Caramel, and she’s mine.” The smile that appeared dimmed into a concern. “I hope it’s not a deal-breaker for you.”

Why would it be?

Kennedy didn’t have a chance to ask because Marina brought a tray with their dishes, so Kennedy waited until her friend left after mouthing, “I’ll call you later.” Of course, Marina would want to know all the details of this nondate.

Then Kennedy drew the plate with seafood, french fries, and coleslaw closer, positioning it just under the beak of the pelican painted on the table, and asked what mattered a lot for several reasons. “Are you seeing anyone?”

“No. Are you?” He didn’t touch his food yet, all his concentration on her as if the answer was important to him. His entire body moved toward her.

“No. I’ve been working too much, I guess. And my previous relationships left a lot to be desired.” Then she sighed as she took a bite of her mahi-mahi. She might as well admit it. “And it’s not like I’m a raving beauty.”

“You are. To me.” His attention was still on her.

She cringed. She didn’t like flattery, and she’d seen too much of it already. “Oh please.”

“I mean it.” He sounded sincere. Could he, indeed, see her that way?

She dipped a fry in ketchup and enjoyed its slightly salty taste. People often assumed she liked finer things, and she did appreciate quality. But she often preferred simple things. Laughter between friends. Clear water. A crispy french fry. “Anything in your past you regret?”

“Not asking you out in high school.” He started with his charbroiled fish and coleslaw. Huh. Not a french-fries kind of guy. While that wasn’t a requirement, there was something sad about it.

Then his answer registered. He couldn’t have meant that. Or could he?

Move on.She sent more ketchup-soaked fries into her mouth. “Where do you see yourself in five years?” If that sounded like a job interview, it was because this was. For the job of a husband.

His fork with the fish stopped midair. “Let me think.”

She swallowed hard. Yes, she wanted to make her uncle happy after everything he’d done for her. But was a part of her so jaded she even looked at marriage like some kind of business decision?

“You probably think I’m not ambitious enough, but I’m happy right where I am now. I love working with pets and living at the ranch.” Then melancholy touched his eyes. “I’d want to have my own family, though. If I can find a woman who’d be happy with me—and with the menagerie of

animals that often surround me. What about you?”

“I’m used to a quiet life at home. I’d like to help someone with all I’m blessed to have. I don’t want to have more in my life, rather I’d like to do better with what I have. And for my uncle to still be alive and well.”

Her throat clogged up. She’d die for that man in a heartbeat. Getting married to make him—the person who’d been her only family for so long—happy didn’t seem such a big sacrifice. “As for my own family, a lot will depend on...” She couldn’t say the rest, so she busied herself with the biscuits that came with dinner.

“Depend on?”

“You’ll know soon.”

He didn’t push further, and she appreciated it. She sipped her drink, and indeed, the waters seemed clearer now. But were they clear enough? “What would be your ideal way to spend an evening if you’re not working, volunteering, or with your siblings?” She should spit it out. “An evening with your wife, maybe?”

“Depends on what she’d like. Toasting marshmallows at the campfire. Playing with a puppy. Enjoying a movie and popcorn while snuggling in front of a fireplace.”

“Even if it’s a romantic comedy?” She picked up another fry. She felt surprisingly comfortable with him, light even. All the knots in her body seemed to loosen out, giving way to a pleasant sensation. She hadn’t felt that way with anyone else.

Ever.

He chuckled. “Romantic comedies are great. Especially ones with a dog or a horse in them.” A calico several tables away hissed as if overhearing him. “Or a cat. Or any pets, for that matter, though I’m not sure about tarantulas.”

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