One Wild Cowboy and A Cowboy To Marry: One Wild Cowboy / A Cowboy to Marry. Cathy Thacker Gillen
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      Dylan chuckled and released a long-suffering sigh. “Goodbye, I hope?”

      She ignored his stab at a joke and stepped even closer, not caring that the move left mere inches of empty space between them. She felt the heat emanating off him, stronger and warmer than the April sunshine overhead. “Just tell me your price, cowboy.” To keep me from being thoroughly humiliated in the wake of my premature claim to have a date with you.

      Emily stood and propped both hands on her hips. “How many meals is it going to take for you to pretend to be my date for the evening? I need you just long enough to scare away the man my parents have picked out for me—and to disabuse my brothers of their own lame-brained matchmaking idea.”

      “None.” Dylan gave her a steady look, then straightened and moved behind her. Taking her by the shoulders, he pivoted her in the direction of her car. As abruptly as he’d taken hold of her, he dropped his firm but gentle grip and stepped away. Her shoulders tingled as badly as the rest of her. “’Cause I don’t do family drama,” he said flatly.

      Temper boiling, Emily whirled back around to face him.

      He lifted one work-roughened palm. “And I don’t tame women, either.”

      Tame! Had he actually used the word tame? “Excuse me?” she fumed, daring him to say that again!

      The corners of his lips twitched in barely checked amusement. “Your family is right. You are a woman in need of ‘assistance’ when it comes to dealing with the opposite sex.” He paused, wearing a self-assured, faintly baiting expression, then returned to the pen and the magnificent horse he’d been training when she arrived.

      He closed the gate behind him and let his glance drift lazily over Emily before deliberately meeting her eyes. “Luckily for both of us, darlin’...that schooling is not going to come from me.”

      * * *

      “WELL, IF YOU ASK ME,” Simone Saunders said two hours later, “I think you should just relax about the whole thing.”

      “Easier said than done,” Emily murmured, arranging trays of fruit cobbler and pecan-pie bars on the banquet tables set up on the town square.

      “You never know,” the Daybreak Café’s assistant chef teased. “The guy your parents want you to meet could be a real hottie.”

      Emily regarded the petite dynamo with the copper-colored hair. Simone was not only her trusted employee but also a close friend. “Don’t you start! Besides, aren’t you the one who has been extolling the virtues of freedom since your divorce?”

      Simone cast a worried look at her increasingly rebellious fifteen-year-old son, Andrew, who was hanging out with a group of friends on the other side of the green. “My situation is different. My husband was a crook.”

      Who was now in jail, Emily thought.

      “Any guy your parents want you to meet would at least be honorable.”

      True. Emily shrugged. “I like nice guys, but there has to be chemistry.” It couldn’t just be conjured up on demand because her parents wanted it to be.

      With Dylan Reeves on the other hand... Emily still couldn’t believe the audacious cowboy had turned her down, and so rudely! Put his hands on her shoulders and invaded her space.

      Simone glanced at the fast-growing crowd, then reached for another tray of brownies off the pastry cart. “How are you going to explain not having a date with the horse whisperer after you told your brothers you did?”

      Good question. Emily added apricot scones to the table. “I could always say something came up, that Dylan wanted to attend but just couldn’t.”

      “Uh...no...you can’t.”

      Emily brought the buckets of fresh churned ice cream out of the portable cooler, and set them in tubs of ice on the buffet table. “Why not?”

      “Because Dylan’s here. Talking to Holden and Hank right now.”

      Heat flooding her cheeks, Emily turned around. Sure enough, Dylan Reeves was here, looking mighty fine in a starched white shirt, a clean pair of jeans and a black Resistol hat. It was all she could do not to wring her hands in dismay. “Holden and Hank are probably grilling him on why he didn’t accompany me. If Dylan tells them I asked him for a date and he turned me down, I’ll just die of embarrassment.”

      “Maybe he won’t.”

      And maybe, Emily thought, already tossing her chef’s apron aside, there was only one way she could stop this. She hoped it wasn’t too late. “Are you okay here?”

      Simone nodded, her expression as resolute as Emily’s mood. “I’ll handle this. You go do damage control. And from the looks of it,” Simone said softly, as the men’s faces grew serious, “you better hurry.”

      * * *

      “SO WHAT’S GOING ON with you and my sister?” Holden McCabe asked.

      Didn’t Emily’s brothers ever lighten up? Dylan wondered, resenting the polite chitchat that was fast turning into a McCabe family inquisition.

      Dylan folded his arms in front of him. “I make it a policy never to discuss my personal affairs.” Not that there was anything to report.

      Hank McCabe paused. He exchanged confused looks with his brother, then turned back to Dylan. “So the two of you are dating?” he asked finally.

      Dylan was still contemplating how best to respond when Emily rushed up, looking gorgeous, flushed and a bit disheveled. Not that he was noticing the way the sunshine-yellow sundress hugged her slender waist and feminine curves. Or how sexy her legs looked when not encased in the usual jeans.

      “Holden...Hank, for heaven’s sake!” she scolded.

      Predictably, her ridiculously overprotective brothers refused to back down.

      “What’s the problem?” Hank asked.

      Holden added innocently, “We’re just talking to your ‘date’ here.”

      Emily swirled around in a drift of jonquil perfume he found amazingly enticing. She shot Dylan a beseeching glance that only he could see. Her soft-as-silk hand curved possessively around his biceps, compelling him to remain silent.

      Curious as to how she was going to get herself out of this mess, he merely smiled.

      The panicked look in her blue eyes fading, Emily released her grip on him and turned back to her brothers. “Dating is for teenagers, guys.”

      More skeptical glances. “What does that mean?” Holden demanded.

      “It means she doesn’t like to put a label on things any more than I do,” Dylan intervened.

      “And neither of us like answering nosy questions,” Emily added.

      Holden shrugged, unrepentant. “You’re the one who brought it up.” He turned to Dylan. “Emily told us earlier that the two of you had a date tonight.”

      Jeb СКАЧАТЬ