Page 68 of Dirty Cowboy

The bottom drops out of my stomach. “What?” The word tumbles from my mouth before I can stop it.

She tilts her head, feigning innocence. “I said, congrat–”

“–no, no… the other part. When are the papers going to the Silvers?”

“Monday. I’d drive over now, but we have Harvest Fest.”

“There’s no hurry,” Grandpa says. “Harvest is more important than some papers.”

I sink back into my chair, my jaw locking. I have until Monday before Emma’s brothers find out we’re engaged.

Caroline turns back to Grandpa and takes a sip of her coffee, glancing at her watch. “That it is. It was a pleasure seeing you both. I should get going. I hate being late.”

Then, without warning, she leans in, pressing a kiss to my cheek. Her breath is warm, laced with the scent of cinnamon and malice. “I’ve got fifty bucks riding on how fast this little engagement blows up," she whispers sweetly. "Don’t disappoint me, cowboy. I’ll see you at the pub Friday night.”

I jerk back.

The seconds stretch as she finally—finally—walks out the door, and I let go of a long-held breath.

“Everything okay with you and Caroline?” Grandpa asks.

“Yeah, all good.”

Grandpa pats the envelope. “Well, congratulations on the engagement, Eric.” His voice is warm, full of pride. “This time next week, you’ll be able to clear those debts and set things right.”

Guilt floods me. He doesn’t know the engagement is fake. He doesn’t know this whole thing is a ruse to keep the ranch. My chest tightens, but I shove it down, reaching for the only truth I can hold onto.

“Thank you, Grandpa.” My voice is thick. “I won’t let you down.”

His face softens. “I transferred some money to your account last night. That should get you started.”

Emotion swells in my throat. “Thank you.”

He pats the envelope again. “Now, you can buy a new car. Maybe get one for Emma as a wedding gift. She liked Suzy.” He winks.

A new car is the least of my concerns, but now, I can finally fix the breaking tractor, replace the broken fencing, expand the stables—and, most importantly, settle my debt with Huntz.

“If I’m still here a year from now,” Grandpa muses, “I can’t wait to see my great-grandchild.”

I nearly choke. “Grandpa.”

He waves a hand dismissively. “You’re not getting any younger, and Emma’s head over heels in love with you.”

That’s because Emma is an incredible liar.

I chuckle, shaking my head. “Thanks for the advice.”

“Want more?”

“Sure.”

“You should go to New York with Emma after Harvest Fest.”

I frown. “What?”

“Her father’s on his deathbed. She needs you there. And you need to ask for her hand before he passes.”

His words hit like a punch to the gut. Emma’s brothers wanted me to keep her away, but Grandpa’s right. Sheshouldbe with her father.

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