Page 12 of Seaside Cowboy's Fairy Tale

“I’d rather keep it between us, okay?”

Kennedy hesitated, then nodded. “As far as I know, Tex doesn’t share much with the family. Rarely comes to our hometown to visit. So tell me—what happened?”

“Not much.” Rachel took another bite of the biscuit to cover how her heart started beating faster. “We danced last night at his annual masquerade charity ball. Then I chased a jewelry thief, who started shooting, and I didn’t have a gun. The thief got away.” She frowned. She didn’t like criminals getting away. “I lost a shoe while running after the thief, so Tex carried me back to the building.”

Kennedy sipped her drink, raising a brow over its rim. “If you call this not much, I wonder what your idea of an eventful night looks like. Okay, keep going.”

“That’s it. You called me about the burglary at your place. I changed into my backup disguise and left.” Rachel’s fingers wrapped around the warm, smooth mug.

Kennedy gasped. “So I ruined your romance? I’m so sorry.”

“There’s no romance. You didn’t ruin anything.” With her friend’s gaze pinning her, Rachel was beginning to feel like the tale tangled her up in yarn. She stopped staring at the playful kittens, then took a few more sips of coffee, partly because the coffee was excellent and partly because she was afraid Kennedy would see the longing in her eyes.

“Are you going to see him again?”

Once Rachel wrote her report for the client and submitted it, that should be it. Her heart squeezed painfully. She shouldn’t want to see him, anyway. “No.”

Kennedy sighed. “That’s a pity. When you talk about him, your eyes sparkle.” Her friend had a sparkle of her own. Uh-oh.

Rachel wiggled a finger at Kennedy, then drained her coffee. “Don’t even think about setting us up.”

Apparently, it was Kennedy’s turn to blink innocently. “You know, I was set up at Austin’s brother’s wedding, right? That’s how it started for us. And look where we are now.”

A part of Rachel wanted to hope. But the rest of her knew better. “Well, nothing is going to start for Tex and me. I’m not looking for romance. Neither is he.”

“But you want to see him again.”

“Not. Going. To. Happen.” Rachel thwacked her empty cup on the table for emphasis, adding a splash to the checkered cloth. Oops.

Then Kennedy’s mouth slackened, and her hand with the biscuit stopped halfway. “Hold on. Masquerade. Disguise. He doesn’t know who you are, does he?”

“Nope.” Why did so much regret tinge that word?

“But he has your shoe.” Kennedy winked and waved with the biscuit. “And we all know how Cinderella’s fairy tale ended.”

“Only I’m not Cinderella.” Rachel shook her head, ignoring that longing. “Not. Going. To. Happen.”

Was the repetition to get the message through to Kennedy, or to herself?

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