Page 57 of A Jilted Bride for the Cowboy

“They haven’t given up.”

“Then… why?”

“I think Mr. Sullivan canceled their reservation.” She let out a long, slow breath. “So that gave me the nerve to go talk to him.”

“The big boss.”

“Yes.” She’d been unbelievably stupid to do that. “I’m not sure what I expected.”

“Did you ask him for a loan?”

Cadence shook her head. She’d been tempted, but maybe she’d hoped he would offer. Wouldn’t she have turned him down, though? She’d turned Graham down, but that hadn’t been for a loan. It had been for marriage.

It was super tempting. He was such a good guy. He’d never treat her as abominably as Paul had. But how could he say he loved her? He didn’t know her well enough. She certainly didn’t know him well enough to commit. She’d thought she’d known Paul, and she hadn’t. Not even a little bit, and they’d dated for years.

“You’re lost in your head,” Paisley observed.

“Sorry. I don’t know what to do.”

“Graham was looking for you earlier.”

Cadence’s gut sank. “He found me. We talked outside a minute ago.”

Paisley’s eyebrows shot up. “Right before you sprinted in the door like the devil himself was chasing you.”

Way too accurate. Cadence nodded, closing her eyes.

“What did he want?” her roommate asked quietly.

“He asked me to marry him.”

Paisley hooted.

Cadence cringed. “I said no.”

“You what? Are you insane, girl? That guy is crazy about you, plus he’s absolutely loaded! He could solve all your problems with the snap of his fingers.”

“Don’t you see? That’s exactly the issue.”

“I’m lost.” Paisley sprang up and patted the back of the chair next to hers. “Let me make us each a cup of tea, and you explain it to me.”

“I’m beat. I need to go to bed.” And not wake up for a month, when this was all over. If it ever was.

“Sit. You will drink tea.” She pivoted and poured water into the kettle.

Paisley was so bossy, but Cadence was all done fighting. She sank into the chair.

“What did Mr. Sullivan say?”

Cadence rubbed her temples, trying to remember. The encounter with Graham had driven the earlier conversation into the dim recesses of her mind. “He told me two wrongs don’t make a right.”

“Uh huh.” Paisley eyed her. “Meaning which two wrongs?”

Good question. “I think he meant giving in to Paul a second time.”

“You’re not seriously considering marrying that narcissistic jerk now that you know what he’s like behind the veneer.”

“No. I don’t think…” Man, that headache was like a band around her skull, threatening to cut off circulation. “But it’s complicated.”

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