CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“H oly hay bales!” The familiar voice bellows across the parking lot and stops me in my tracks. “Are my old eyes deceiving me or is Brody Benson at a charity event?”
I turn to acknowledge Ted Malone’s humor. He’s been friends with my dad since they were kids and remains a permanent staple in our lives. Some of that might have to do with him being the town mayor for at least a dozen or so years.
A breeze kicks up dust while I meet him halfway to the gate. “Don’t make me sound like such a Scrooge. I’m always happy to support a worthy cause.”
Especially if it involves tracking down a certain cowgirl and ruffling her rhinestones.
Ted bobs his head as we walk to the park entrance. “Just busting your chops. Benson Farmstead is always the first to donate.”
“And I’ll be sure to keep it that way. ”
His meaty palm grips my shoulder. “Cloverleaf Meadows is in your debt. If you ever need anything, be sure to holler.”
“You know I will.” Not that I’ve ever called in a favor, but it’s good to have in my back pocket.
“I’ve been meaning to ask”—he lowers his voice before adding—“is it true you’re getting married?”
A chuckle puffs free and I scrub over my lips. Dad must’ve shared his grand scheme. “That’s the plan.”
Ted hums. “And Paisley Keaton is your intended bride?”
I survey the crowd gathered for the event, searching for a particular shade of twinkly blonde. “If she’ll have me.”
“Now that’s interesting,” he muses. “I talked to Bill the other day and he didn’t know a thing about his daughter getting hitched.”
Pressure cinches around my ribs. “Ah, Ted. You’ve gone and spoiled the surprise. I’ve got a whole spectacle planned to ask for his approval.”
“Oh, shoot.” The old man blanches. “I didn’t mean to barge into your business.”
“Nah, it’s fine. I understand getting ahead of myself.”
Ted wipes his sweaty brow. “Thank goodness. I’d hate to be the one who ruined your proposal.”
“To be honest, you’ve probably made the process easier for me. Laid the groundwork I hadn’t gotten around to yet.”
He brightens, squaring his shoulders like a proud politician. “Glad to be of service.”
My concentration wanders to the far field where a horse trailer pulls in, joining the long row of others. “Decent turnout, huh?”
“Looks that way. Some folks are usin’ this as an opportunity to ditch excess stock before winter hits. Oh, that reminds me”—he drops his tone to a conspiring level again—“are you sellin’ Echo?”
Every muscle in my body solidifies into stone. It’s a chore to breathe through the block of guilt now resting on my chest. “No, of course not. Who would say such a thing?”
Am I manipulating Paisley to believe otherwise? Yes. Do I feel bad about that? Only when I think about it long enough. Fuck, I really am an asshole.
Shame slams into me with the force of a wrecking ball. Maybe I’m taking things too far. I’d purposely avoided thinking about that crooked curveball I threw at Paisley. It was foolish of me to assume word wouldn’t get out about my latest dick move. The evidence of my inflated confidence is mocking me. And to make the situation worse, it’s been less than a week.
It’s only then I realize that Ted is staring at me too carefully. “Hey, don’t let the rumors get to ya. Figured it was a pile of manure.”
“Right,” I rasp.
He brushes off his hands as if it’s that easy to drop the subject. “Your dad coming today?”
“Nope. He’s out of town with Uncle Jimmy. There’s a breeder in Montana who insisted we need to see their new stud in person. All too eager to spread his seed.” I almost gag on my own attempt at lightening the mood.
Ted’s bushy eyebrows rise to the cloudy sky. “You got him to leave the compound?”
“After much persuasion.” Damn, that’s one more slash against me. I’ll have to beg Mom for extra forgiveness before bed tonight .
“And here you are, making a public appearance. Way to rule the roost.” He pats me on the back. “Good for you, Brody.”
“Mhmm, just doing what I can. What’s with the barrel race on a ball field?” I lift my chin to the makeshift arena.
“Not sure,” Ted laughs. “From what I’ve heard, they got the idea on the YouTube. Or maybe it was that clock app. What’s it called? Ticky-tack?”
“TikTok,” I offer.
He snaps his fingers. “Yes, that’s the one. The committee brought the suggestion to several organizations. Race for the Fences was the fastest to accept.”
But I’m barely listening. My future wife has revealed herself. Thunder roars in my ears as I pinpoint Paisley’s position in the temporary corral. She’s waving her arms in wild motions while chatting with her cousin. From the looks of things, Cassidy just got done riding. I find myself wondering why Paisley didn’t enter. The best answer will come straight from the source.
“Great talking to you, Ted.” I give him a crisp nod before stalking my target. “I’ll be in touch about that favor.”
“What favor?” he calls after me.
I lift my hand in farewell. “You’ll see soon enough.”
Meanwhile, Paisley is all I see. Her golden hair shines bright even in overcast conditions. She’s a beacon solely meant to snare me.
My boots stomp across grass and dirt to erase the distance between us. People wisely leap from my path. The determination in my glare probably signals an alarm. It makes getting to her a short trek across the pen. Just as I’m about to make my presence known, Paisley begins backing away from her cousin.
She clips me with her elbow and immediately whirls to face me. An apology waits on her parted lips until recognition settles in. Her glare could scare unruly children into behaving. It has the opposite effect on me.
Paisley fumes when my smirk stretches wider. “What the hell are you doing here?”
As if I’m going to reveal the truth. “None of your concern.”
She stabs a finger into my chest. “You better not be trying to sell Echo again.”
I sweep her hand off me before I yank her closer on reflex. “It’s none of your business, Twinkles.”
“Don’t even go there.” She huffs and crashes into my shoulder on her way past me for a hasty retreat. “If I find out you’re trying to get rid of her, you’ll have hell to pay.”
That response is almost comical. But I guess Ted was right about people using this event to test the buyer’s market before winter. That hadn’t been my intention upon arrival, but I sure as shit can use it to my benefit.
Just as Paisley is about to storm off, I reach for her arm and haul her against me. “Not so fast. We have an arrangement to discuss.”
She yanks from my grasp. “There’s nothing left to talk about.”
“Be my wife, Twinkles.”
Her posture becomes a rigid beam. “You can’t afford me, boss. My moral compass is priceless and always points in the opposite direction of where you are.”
Whispers from those nearby begin to buzz in my ears. I turn slightly to shield her from the crowd. “You’d rather I sell Echo?”
“I’d rather you return to being a decent human and quit trying to force me.”
“Not happening.”
“Figures,” she huffs. “You’re a stubborn ass and I’m done trying to find any redeeming qualities.”
“Guess I came to the right place then,” I drawl.
Her eyes narrow into daggers. “You wouldn’t dare.”
I lean in until my cheek brushes hers. My exhale caresses her ear and she shivers. “We both know I will, just to prove a point.”
She pulls away to search my gaze. Her unshed tears are a knife to the gut, but a few droplets won’t stop me from pushing harder. It’s only fair that she crumbles too. A single glance from this woman rips me open and exposes the ugly rot I’ve become.
I grind my teeth. She was wrong the other day and I fed the lie. But the truth is that I do feel. Too much, thanks to her. She’s responsible for this downward spiral I’m caught in. My mother’s death should’ve ripped me to shreds, but this burst of sunshine streaking into my life is what’s turning me inside out. Whenever I get near Paisley, I have the sudden urge to kiss her into submission while simultaneously spanking her ass red. She really does bring out the worst in me.
“You’re gonna regret it,” she whispers.
A sharp ache stabs at my gut. It’s strange and uncomfortable but I’m beginning to realize that the pain beats being numb. That’s why I find myself begging for another hit .
“What did my sister have to say?” My heart pounds when Paisley dips her chin.
“Bianca is busy on her trip, which I’m sure you know.” She bites her bottom lip while a rosy flush races up her throat. Fuck, yeah. That hits the spot. “But she’s assured me you’re just on a power trip and won’t take it too far.”
“When was that?”
Paisley fidgets with a jewel on her belt. “It’s been a while.”
“Haven’t gotten ahold of her lately?” It requires villainous effort to mask a grin.
Her baby blues leap to my face, scrounging for secrets. “Have you?”
My shrug is easy. “Don’t worry about it.”
“Easy for you to say.” Her frown flattens into a firm line. “I’m caught in a sticky trap with no escape.”
“There’s always a choice,” I remind her.
Paisley tips her head skyward and groans. “Why are you the worst?”
“You bring it out in me, and insist on being difficult.”
“Me?” Her gasp is the fakest form of shock I’ve witnessed since Mom’s soap opera era. “You’re the one playing bride or blackmail.”
“I can assure you that my intentions aren’t built on corrupt foundations. This is for the greater good. If my uncle is put in charge, Benson Farmstead will be ruined. My mother definitely wouldn’t want that.”
“But what you’re asking me to do is wrong.”
“Only if you bring emotions along for the ride. It’s a contractual agreement. Simple and brief. You’ll be compensated for your cooperation. ”
“Wow, that’s very sweet.” Her voice is devoid of inflection, which hurts me more than I care to admit. “You sound like a master manipulator.”
There’s a sudden lump in my throat and I gulp. “It’s a recent development.”
“Suits you well,” she mutters.
Heat floods my veins and I widen my stance. “Careful with the compliments, Twinkles.”
“Or what? You’ll threaten to trap me in a tower? It would fit with the story since you’re already trying to steal my free will.”
I shake my head. “There’s a choice. Make the right one.”
Blue flames burn in her fierce stare. “I’ve always preferred the left.”
My cock jerks behind my zipper. “Fuck, you and that sassy mouth. If the circumstances were different, I’d very much enjoy fucking that bratty attitude out of you. With consent, of course.”
Her breath hitches as a fresh blush blooms across her cheeks. “Well, how about that? There are lines you won’t cross.”
“We all have limits. Is this truly yours?”
Before she can answer, a hush settles over the crowd as someone makes an announcement. Paisley’s eyes widen and she begins hoofing it to the benches. “If you made me miss their big moment, I’m gonna put you on blast over the loudspeaker.”
I match her quick stride. “You’re ready to broadcast your devotion to me? Why didn’t you say so sooner?”
She keeps her focus locked straight ahead. “Your skull is thicker than your ego. ”
“Thanks for noticing. Care for a private tour to see where else I’m hardheaded for you?”
She slams to an abrupt stop at the bottom of the bleacher stairs. “Stop following me.”
“Why?” My gaze trails to the front row where several guys are looking at us. “Is someone waiting on you?”
“As if I’d pour more gasoline on this dumpster fire.”
I breathe easily for what feels like the first time in months. “Saving yourself for me then?”
“Spoiler alert,” she clips. “I’m not a virgin.”
Desperate need has my dick trying to punch a hole through my jeans. I almost groan at the mounting pressure demanding release. “That’s a relief, Twinkles.”
Paisley falters but snaps her slack jaw shut quickly enough. “Why?”
A tug on her belt loop crashes her chest into mine. My lips dust her forehead as a bright future appears in front of us. “I won’t have to be gentle on our wedding night.”