Page 53 of Dirty Cowboy

She tilts her head, studying me. “I thought you needed a pretend fiancée until after the weekend?”

The teasing glint in her eyes makes something shift inside me. Because if I let myself think about it too hard, I know damn well that it would beso much easierto just stop pretending.

To keep her here.

Not just for a weekend.

For longer. Maybeforever.

She finally takes a bite of her omelet, washing it down with another sip of wine.

“You make pretending easy,” I murmur.

Her hand stops midway to her plate and her gaze flickers to where my fingers graze the back of her hand. Goosebumps prickle along her arms.

She lowers her fork. “Are we still pretending?”

I don’t answer right away. Instead, I watch her. I watch the way her lips part slightly, the way she’swatchingme back, like we’re both standing at the edge of something neither of us can name.

It takes everything in me to pull my hand away. I clear my throat.

“Yes. Of course,” I say, my voice rough. “I’m just saying,youmake it easy. Which means our ruse will work, and?—”

“Eric.”

I stop rambling and meet her gaze. Her fingers slip over mine, threading between them like it’s the most natural thing in the world. The warmth of her skin against mine sends a ripple through my body.

I pull my free hand through my hair, exhaling. “I just wish we didn’t have to lie to Grandpa.”

She traces her thumb over the back of my hand, soft, reassuring.

“We’ve got this,” she says, her voice steady. “Harvest Fest is two days away. Your grandfather loves you. And Ipromiseto be the best fiancée you’ve ever had.” She grins. “What could go wrong?”

So many things could go wrong.

Like me taking my best friend’s little sister to my bed and making her moan my name.

Like Grandpa refusing to pass down his assets unless I actuallymarryher.

Like mewantingto.

"Since I'm never getting engaged again, you've got the distinction of being my first and last fiancée."

She blinks, then smirks. “Fake fiancée.”

A muscle twitches in my jaw.

Emma leans in, her breath warm against my skin as she whispers, "Don't worry, Eric. I'll besucha convincing fake fiancée, you might forget it's an act."

Fuck.

A bead of sweat traces down my spine. The heat of the summer is nothing compared to the fire she just lit inside me.

I exhale slowly, forcing a smirk. "If you play my fiancéetoowell, I might want to keep you here forever."

Her cheeks flush, the pink deepening the freckles across her nose. She quickly grabs our empty plates and heads to the kitchen. I follow her inside, my eyes drawn to the sway of her hips.

"Want to do the rounds with me tonight?" I ask.

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