Page 99 of My Cowboy Trouble
"All of it?"
"Enough." I scrub my hands over my face. "Made it sound like we planned the whole thing. Like we were just playing with her for our own amusement."
"Fuck."
"Yeah. Fuck."
We sit in silence for a moment, both of us staring out at the pasture where we've spent the morning working alongside the woman we're probably about to lose.
"We have to fix this," Trent says finally.
"How? She's not wrong, is she? We did make that bet. We did think she wouldn't last. We did start this whole thing as a joke."
"But that's not how it ended."
"Doesn't matter how it ended if the beginning was built on a lie."
"Then we tell her the truth. All of it. How we felt, how things changed, how that bet stopped mattering the moment we realized?—"
"Realized what? That we love her?" I laugh, but there's no humor in it. "Think she's going to care about that after finding out we started by betting against her?"
Trent doesn't answer, because we both know the truth. Kenzie Rhodes doesn't forgive easily, and she sure as hell doesn't forget. And what we did, what I did by making that fucking bet in the first place, might be unforgivable.
But I have to try. Because the alternative is watching her walk away, and I'm not ready to live without her smile, her laugh, her stubborn determination to prove everyone wrong.
I'm not ready to go back to the way things were before she showed up and turned everything upside down.
I findKenzie in the barn an hour later, aggressively mucking out stalls like the hay has personally offended her. She's changed into her oldest jeans and a tank top that's already soaked with sweat, and her hair is pulled back in a ponytail that swings with each violent stab of the pitchfork.
She doesn't acknowledge me when I walk in, justkeeps working with the kind of focused intensity that usually means she's either furious or trying not to cry. Possibly both.
"Kenzie," I start, but she cuts me off without looking up.
"Stop. Shut up."
"You need to let me explain?—"
"I need you to leave me alone."
But I can't do that. Can't just walk away and let this fester until it destroys everything we've built. So I move closer, positioning myself where she can't ignore me.
"The bet wasn't what Clara Mae made it sound like."
"Really?" She finally looks at me, and the coldness in her eyes hits me like a slap. "So you didn't bet on how long I'd last before running back to the city?"
"We did, but?—"
"And you didn't think I was just some spoiled city girl who'd never make it on a real ranch?"
"At first, yes, but?—"
"And you didn't think it would be entertaining to watch me fail?"
Each question is a knife twisting in my gut, because she's right. All of it is true, even if it's not the whole truth.
"Yes," I admit. "But that was before we knew you. Before?—"
"Before you got me into bed?" Her voice is razor-sharp now, cutting through every excuse I might have. "Before you figured out you could get some entertainment out of the stupid city girl before she left?"
