Page 105 of Dirty Cowboy

I turn to face her fully, taking both her hands in mine. The words I had planned vanish, replaced by something deeper, something real.

“Emma, you didn’t just walk into my life. You turned it upside down. You challenge me, you surprise me, and you make me laugh in ways I never thought possible. You see past my walls and accept my flaws, my past, and everything I thought no one could love. When you’re here, the ranch feels alive in a way it never has, like it’s been waiting for you all along.” My voice thickens and emotion clings to every word. “You make me want to be the man you deserve. I’m honored that you’ve agreed to be my wife, and I swear to spend every day proving I’m worthy of your love.”

I hear the cheers before I process them. Emma’s eyes glisten, her fingers trembling in mine. Annabelle dabs at her cheeks, Derek gives me a knowing nod, and Grandpa Albert is grinning so widely, it makes my chest ache.

I tell myself this is all for show. But the words feel like a vow.

“To Eric and Emma!” Derek raises his glass, and the crowd echoes the toast.

Emma leans in, her breath hot against my ear. “That was quite a speech, cowboy.”

“I meant every word.” I brush my lips over hers.

The music picks up again and a slow ballad fills the barn. Emma’s eyes light up despite her ankle.

“Dance with me?” I ask.

I guide her onto the dance floor, careful with every step, holding most of her weight against me. She fits perfectly in my arms, her head resting on my chest, her curves pressed against me in a way that makes me forget everything else. The scent of her skin, and the feel of her breath against my neck are intoxicating.

"Grandpa’s waltz lessons paid off," she murmurs, lips grazing my skin. “He must be proud.”

I spin her gently, my hand sliding lower on her back. She lets out a soft sigh, melting into me, and I hold on just a little tighter.

The pie-eating contest provides a much-needed distraction. Grandpa Albert, despite my mother’s protests, demolishes his competition. Sheriff Simon struggles to keep up, and when Caroline drops her third slice onto her lap, Annabelle cackles loud enough for the whole barn to hear.

“That’s what you get for messing with my pies,” she whispers to Grandpa, earning a conspiratorial wink.

The Sheriff lifts Grandpa’s hand in the air. “Winner!”

The crowd erupts and the warmth of the night settles deep in my bones. Grandpa looks younger and happier, and the weight on my chest eases just a little.

But then I catch sight of Caroline slipping out the back door, her face set with something cold and calculating. A chill runs down my spine.

Something’s not right, but I shake it off when Emma presses against me, looking up at me with those starlit eyes.

Tonight is ours. Tomorrow can wait.

The celebration stretches late into the night, though Misty’s absence lingers at the edges of my thoughts. When Emma finally leans into me, exhausted, I scoop her into my arms and carry her to the truck.

By the time we reach the house, she’s quieter, and more thoughtful. I help her inside, setting her gently on her feet. She stares up at me, something unreadable flickering across her face.

“Thank you,” she whispers, trailing her fingers up my chest. “For making tonight perfect.”

I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “Even with the fake engagement?”

She shakes her head. “Nothing about tonight felt fake to me.”

And just like that, I’m lost. I kiss her, pouring everything I can’t say into the way our mouths move together. She responds with the same desperation, her fingers curling into my shirt.

When we finally pull apart, breathless, she studies my face. “Eric?”

“Yes?”

“Take me upstairs.”

I scoop her up into my arms, carrying her upstairs and across the room before laying her gently onto my bed. Her body molds to the sheets, her hair fanning out around her like a halo. My pulse pounds against my ribs

“Come here, cowboy” She curls her finger in a slow, teasing invitation.

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