Page 29 of Dirty Cowboy

We weave through a cozy family room, past the kitchen, and step into the backyard where two older versions of Eric sit at a wooden table. Ethan nurses a beer while Albert sips a vibrant green shake. They rise from their seats as we approach, and Ethan turns down the booming country music.

“Is this true what I’m hearing?” Eric’s grandfather asks, his voice deep and steady.

Eric tightens his hold on my hand, lifting it high. “Grandpa, this is Emma Silver. You’ve met her before—when she was younger.” He clears his throat. “She’s my fiancée.”

Albert’s gaze locks onto the ring, his eyes misting over.

“Estonia’s ring?” He wipes at a tear, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m so happy to see you’ve finally passed on your grandmother’s ring.”

His grandmother’s ring? I school my expression, but I’m certain Grandpa Albert catches my surprise.

“Me too, grandpa. Glad you’re here. We missed you.” Eric embraces his grandfather, then his father.

“I missed you as well.”

Grandpa Albert pulls out a wicker chair and gestures for me to sit. “Emma, tell me all about how my grandson swept such a beautiful woman off her feet.”

“Hold on, Albert. Let Emma settle in before you interrogate her. Emma, you must be starving.” Joanne ushers me to the long bench, then bustles about, setting a wooden table with country dishes. I look up to the vines of grapes spilling from the pergola canopy above. God, it’s beautiful here.

“I made your favorite beef stew,” she tells Eric, pride in her voice.

Oh no.

Grandpa Albert nudges my elbow. “I hope you like to cook, Emma. Eric here has quite the appetite.”

My stomach drops. Cooking is as foreign to me as horseback riding is to a fish.

“I see.” I force a smile, eyeing my plate.

Eric digs into his meal, while I carefully spoon potatoes onto my plate, drenching them in gravy. I push the beef aside, opting for the garden salad. The first bite is a punch of flavors—herbs, fresh vegetables, and a hint of citrus.

“Joanne, this is delicious.”

“My mother loves gardening. She should show you her greenhouse.”

“So, it’s all organic? That’s incredible.”

Eric pauses mid-bite. “Why aren’t you eating the beef?”

“I’m a vegetarian.”

Silence falls over the table. Eric’s brow furrows. “But you’re eating the gravy.”

“Gravy’s not meat,” I counter.

Eric chokes on his food, and before I can react, a chunk of beef launches from his mouth, sailing through the air before landing on the grass. A nearby cat pounces, snatching it up before scampering away.

Grandpa Albert shakes his head. “Thought you’d know this about your fiancée.”

“So, Emma…” He dabs his mouth with a napkin. “How long has the romance been going on?”

“Six months, but I’ve been secretly in love with Eric since the day he saddled me onto Shadow.” The words slip out so easily, I have a hard time not believing what I said. But the weight of deception settles heavily on my shoulders.

Eric takes a sharp inhale.

“I had some growing up to do, of course. Then school, but fate kept Eric waiting for me on a bench in Central Park.”

God, that sounded good.

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