“I don’t know, Dakota.” The stress rolls off him. “I guess I didn’t really think it through. I thought marriage would solve my problem, and you had a problem I could help with, too—”
“I’m still not happy you violated my privacy.”
“And I’m still sorry I did it.” He holds up his hands in a request for forgiveness.
I blow out a breath. “Whatever. It’s over. Let’s move on to how the hell this is all supposed to work out.”
Wes rubs his eyes. “As for how long we’re supposed to be married, I guess I just assumed marriage is a forever kind of thing.”
I twirl the small pendant on my necklace as his words sink in. He would sign up for forever with me? “Marriage might be a ‘forever kind of thing’ for those who go the normal route. You know, falling in love, getting engaged, then taking a trip down the aisle. But what about us? You want to be married to someone you don’t love for the rest of your life?”
He gives me a side-eye. “Dakota, the relationship progression you’re describing isn’t in the cards for me.”
“What about being married to someone you don’t love? That doesn’t bother you?”
“Yes. No. Shit, maybe.” He sighs. “Look, Dakota, I don’t know. I can’t tell you what the future holds, but I know that I wouldn’t have asked you to do this with me if I thought you were a bad partner. We had something once, and if there’s anybody I’d marry, even if it’s in this crazy way, it’d be you.”
There was a time when I’d laugh at a conversation like this, but that was before I learned harsh truths. People take vows and mean them, and then cheat. People take vows and mean them, and then marriage itself is the cheater. My dad signed up for a lifetime with my mom. He got thirty-two years and even though he puts on a brave face, I see sadness in his eyes every single day. From what I can tell, you can go into marriage with all the good intentions in the world and still wind up screwed one way or the other.
I might be disenchanted with marriage, but I can’t give it away altogether. “One year, Wes. I’ll give you one year.”
A terse nod is his response. He looks like he can’t take any more of this. He offers his hand across the small table separating our chairs. His dark brown eyes locked on mine, he asks, “Do we have a deal?”
“A handshake?” I ask, looking disbelievingly at his outstretched palm. “Shouldn’t we have something a little more official, like a contract?”
“In my world, there isn’t anything more binding than a handshake. A man’s word is his honor.”
I look into his determined eyes and, for a second, I consider bounding away like a frightened deer. But then I think of the insufficient funds notices clogging up my email. My warm palm presses against his. The buzzing starts up, and I push it away. We’re officially business partners.
I drop his hand. “How is this all going to go?”
“Well.” Wes captures his lower lip between two fingers and pinches while he thinks. “We should let everyone think we’re dating for a short time. Make them think we’re hot and heavy, whirlwind courtship, soul mates, all that.”
“I feel like I should tell you that I’m not the greatest actress.”
“Me neither, but we’ll figure it out.” His lips quirk up. “In two weeks we’ll announce we’re getting married.”
Whoa. Apparently to Wes, a ‘short time’ is two weeks. “Don’t make it sound so romantic. I might swoon.” My voice is flat and dry. “You don’t think your family will have a problem with our ‘whirlwind courtship’?” I make air quotes.
“They’ll be shocked, but they’ll get over it.”
“Okay.” I cross my arms in front of myself in an attempt to dispel the discomfort I’m feeling at how apathetically we’re discussing something that is supposed to be special. I might be disenchanted with the institution, but a small part of me must still believe in it.
Wes stares at me, and I stare back.
I need to steer us into safer territory, pronto. “When does your dad get to come home?”
“Maybe a week? I’m not sure.” He yawns as he speaks.
He probably didn’t get any sleep last night. I need to leave anyway. I have my own dinner to eat and an email to send my dad about our progress today. But I am most definitely not telling him about my deal with Wes. Not yet, anyway.
I stand up, and Wes does too. Movement in the front window catches my eye. Jessie waves. I wave back and spot Warner and Wyatt sitting in the living room.
“We have interested eyes,” I murmur, and he chuckles.
“So we do. No time like the present, I guess.” Wes palms my lower back as he walks me out. Warmth spreads through me. It feels like his hand was always meant to be there, which is really annoying because it’s only there for the benefit of people who are almost definitely peeking out of the window watching us.
I look up and my breath sticks in my throat. The sun set while we were talking and now stars blanket the dark sky, shimmering like the sunlight on the lake the day we met.
“I know,” he murmurs. “Stunning, isn’t it? Light pollution doesn’t exist out here.”
We reach my car and I stop, turning back to look at him. “For the record, I can see why you love this ranch. I understand why you’re willing to marry for it.”
His face is partially illuminated by the light shining through the large front windows. “It’s easy to be fooled by the beauty of a night sky, or the sunrise behind the steam curling up from your morning coffee. Loving the ranch doesn’t come from those experiences. Loving the ranch comes from the hardships she puts you through. The dust, the mud, the blistered hands, the aching back from spending a day in the saddle. Never knowing what she’s going to put you through next. She’s beautiful and unpredictable. She’ll knock you flat on your ass and make you fall in love with her on the way down.”
A strand of hair blows across my lips and he tucks it back, leaving his fingertips against the space just below my ear. My breath hitches, but it only serves to madden me. His touch is a ruse, and I need to start remembering that.
“That’s a lot of human traits for an inanimate object,” I say, my voice stilted.
He smirks. “She’s not inanimate. Just look.” He turns me around suddenly and steps into me, catching me with his body and giving me a place to steady myself. He keeps one hand on my hip and his face over my shoulder. Pointing, he says, “Look at her move. Blades of grass swaying in the breeze. Cottonwood leaves shifting.” In the stable, a horse whinnies.
My eyes close and I soak up the late afternoon sun, the breeze, and the man pressed against me. Just this once, and then I’ll stop. But, wait… all this touching me gently and pressing against me, is just an act. And since I’m supposed to be selling our new relationship…
“Wes?”
“Hmmm,” he rumbles, and I feel it everywhere.
I spin around, and I’m still in his arms. “We’re going to have to start hanging out immediately.”
He tenses, then relaxes. “Right.”
“As in, tomorrow night. And every night, if you want it to be believable.”