Page 22 of Dirty Cowboy

As George pulls away from the curb, Emma catches my gaze, determination flickering behind a veil of doubt. In that moment, I make a silent vow to fix this and ensure she gets that partnership. Fifteen minutes later, we arrive at the train station and I guide Emma to our cabin.

“Did you think you’d be on your way to Lords Valley when you woke up this morning?” I attempt small talk, anything to ease the tension curling between us.

She stretches her legs, her pink-polished toes peeking out from her heels. The sight sends a jolt of heat coiling low in my groin.

“I thought I’d be assigned an important case,” she muses. “But I get to be your pretend girlfriend instead. Is Huntz even real?”

Her arms cross, her tone laced with skepticism. I’ve never seen Emma so guarded. I thought she’d be excited about the horses and the open land. Maybe taking her away from her dying father wasn’t a good idea.

“He’s real,” I lie smoothly. “But I haven’t seen him in years.”

“So you were kidnapped?”

She leans forward, eyes searching mine.

“Yes, we were, but it was a long time ago.”

She frowns, like she’s mentally piecing things together. “So, there is no case.”

“Just the one I need you to pull off with my grandfather.”

Her arms fold tighter, her gaze narrowing. “This doesn’t feel like the full story, Eric.”

She’s not wrong.

“My grandfather’s arriving from Aruba soon. You’ve met him before. You’ll join my family for dinner, accompany me to Harvest Fest this weekend, and that should be it.”

Her features soften slightly. “Your grandfather means a lot to you, doesn’t he?”

I clasp my hands together, inhaling deeply. “He taught me everything I know.”

The thought of losing him tightens something in my chest. If I could turn this car around and let Emma stay with her father, I would. But if I do, my parents will lose everything.

She touches my arm gently. “Eric?”

I snap out of it, nodding. “Yeah, sorry. Grandpa means a lot. Fair warning—he still enjoys embarrassing his grandkids, so he might pull out an old, unflattering photo or two.”

She grins. “Something to look forward to, after all.”

“I thought you’d be excited to visit the ranch,” I muse. “I remember you riding Shadow like it was yesterday. How old were you?”

“My first time, I was eight,” she says, nostalgia thick in her voice. “You were twenty-four, and to me, that was ancient.”

A chuckle escapes me as I try to remember the time she last rode Shadow, and I can’t. “Ten years ago… ten years ago. I don’t remember that time, but it turns out, Ems, I am an old man now.””

She shakes her head, eyes twinkling. “Not the way I see it. You’re a sexy fucking cowboy.”

Her hand slaps over her mouth. There she is—unfiltered, bold Emma. And just like that, we burst into laughter.

“I’m so sorry.” She gasps between breaths, unbuttoning her jacket. The white blouse beneath clings to her curves, and my gaze betrays me, dropping lower. Thankfully, she doesn’t notice. Or if she does, she doesn’t call me out on it.

“We don’t get many cowboys in New York.”

“I’m glad I stand out.” I clear my throat. “You know, your brothers say you’re the best secret keeper in the family. What happens when someone asks for details?”

She tilts forward, a teasing smirk forming. “When secrets are at stake, I lie.”

“You lie?”

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