Page 28 of Dirty Cowboy

“Marrying me soundsterrifying?”

“No! I mean—this.Us.Pretending. I haven’t done this before.”

He chuckles, glancing at his watch. “It’s only four hours before they go to bed. If you can survive that, you’ll be fine.”

“Your parents go to bed at eight?”

“Right with the chickens.”

“They go to bedwiththe chickens?”

His laughter is low, rich, but before I can pry for an explanation, the front door swings open.

And just like that,game on.

Joanne Waters rushes down the steps, her arms outstretched. “There you are! We’ve been waiting for you.”

Before I can react, she pulls me into a warm, familiar embrace. Her touch is gentle and grounding, like coming home to something I didn’t realize I’d missed.

“It’s so good to see you, Emma.” Joanne ushers me inside, her warmth wrapping around me like a familiar embrace. The air is thick with the scent of cinnamon and baked apples, a whisper of family traditions and love.

“Thank you for having me.”

She gently pries my briefcase from my grasp and sets it on a side bench, her eyes twinkling as she takes me in. “I can’t believe I’m looking at the same girl who lasted longer than Wyoming Jack.”

Eric strides past us, setting my suitcase at the base of the stairs.

“When did this happen?” he asks, curiosity laced in his voice.

When you were shagging a woman in the barn.The memory surfaces before I can stop it—me, gripping the mechanical bull for dear life while Eric was off, very much not thinking about me.

“Ten years ago,” I answer, my cheeks heating. “You weren’t there that night.”

Joanne turns to Eric, oblivious to my internal crisis. “It was the year Caroline came to visit her parents.”

Caroline? Is that the woman I caught him banging in the barn? I file that name away for later.

Joanne loops her arm through mine, leading me through the foyer. “How are Frank and Wilma?”

“Dad’s still fighting.”

“Good. We should have them come out here for Christmas. That’s only five weeks away.”

Dad may not have five weeks left, but I say nothing.

“Come inside. What brings you to Lords Valley?”

I glance at Eric before reaching for his hand, twining our fingers together like we’ve been doing it for years. Then, I lift my hand, flashing the engagement ring.

Joanne gasps, covering her mouth as her eyes well up. “Ethan! Ethan, Eric’s engaged! Oh, wait until your grandfather hears about this.”

She pulls us into a tight hug, practically vibrating with excitement.

“When did this happen? Ethan! Albert!” she calls toward the back of the house, then turns to Eric. “Come to the garden. They’re under the pergola.”

“Grandpa’s here already?”

“He took an earlier flight. There’s a hurricane heading toward Aruba.”

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