Who Wants to Marry a Cowboy? (25 page)

Watching the stuffy accountant try to let loose should have been funny, but the only thing laughing was the echo of his past. He kept his eyes fixed on the girl he had almost fallen for, who had wrapped herself around the man after he had shown her a small box. Only one thing came in a box like that, and there was only one reason to show it to someone. Sophia had told him earlier she intended to see Ainsley and Edward married. This confirmed that and everything else he’d been told. Deceitful, malicious woman.

He spun away from the touching scene, a slow ache spreading through his gut, and headed behind the barn and into the copse on the edge of the clearing. The trees would be better company than anyone at the party. Soft laughter from two shadows greeted him and he squinted in the waning light. Meagan and Cookie stood close together, sending Riley’s ache to the far reaches of his soul. Before they could see him, he ducked through the trees and headed to the stables.

She’d played him completely. She’d created her own fantasy world and perverted his mind with the spirit in her eyes and the passion of her body, making him lose his focus, neglect his family, his ranch. Riley reined in his emotions, controlling them like he did his horses.

Never again.

Running footsteps pounded behind him and he stopped. The steps slowed and the hint of vanilla tickled his nose a second before Ainsley stood next to him. Her radiant smile kicked him like a horse. She must not have a single shred of conscience. She reached for his hand but he stuffed it in his pocket and leaned against a spruce tree. “What do you want?”

The radiance faded into a storm front. Her green eyes clouded with anger and a touch of something else. Sadness, maybe. He didn’t analyze it. “So you’ve decided, then.” She wrapped her arms around her middle. “I’m glad I discovered this lack of trust in you before I did something stupid, like telling you how I feel.”

He bit down on a harsh bark of laughter. “Your mother told me the truth about you and Edward. What everyone else has told me all along. And you can still stand here and talk to me about trust?”

She sucked her lips into her mouth and inhaled through her nose. “Why don’t you actually listen to
me
, Riley?” She touched her heart in a pathetic attempt to convey earnestness, the rest of her stiff and straight. “This is my life. Not my mother’s. Not Jewel’s. And not Edward’s.” She took a single step forward, filling his space with vanilla while her hands gripped the lapels of his black shirt. Glancing up at him through her lashes, she softened her voice, the tendrils of seduction capturing his attention. “I thought I might be spending more of it with you.”

He struggled to keep his arms from wrapping around her body, to pull her close and kiss her soft lips until they were both breathless with wanting. Instead, he stepped out of her target range of charm and her hands fell to her sides. “Puts you at odds with your plans for Mr. Accountant?” Hands on his hips, he glared down at her and cursed himself. She had consumed his thoughts all day, how deceitful she had been and how innocent she’d appeared, and his resentment had been stirring. She wasn’t going to kiss her way out of it this time.

She brought a hand up to massage her temples, her golden hair spilling over her shoulders and framing her face, invoking a small stirring in his gut which he quickly clamped down.

“Go ahead. Say what it is you believe.” Her low voice held no inflection of emotion.

“Our time together was special to me, Ainsley. I put aside my ranch, I hid from my family, all in order to be with you. You gave me an ache in my chest that I tried to deny and when I was finally ready to accept it, your fiancé comes with the truth.” He slammed his fist into the tree and she flinched and backed away from him. “The truth that everyone else tried to tell me.”

“Did you ever think that maybe these women saw how you were looking at me and decided to take matters into their own hands? Or maybe I had the same ache, and the same doubts?” she asked with an eerie calmness.

“You can’t give it up, can you?” Riley grabbed her naked left hand, his rough finger scraping against her knuckle as she tried to jerk it away. “Where’s the ring he gave you?”

“Are you kidding me? Is that what this is about? It was for my sister, you stupid cowboy. You know, the one I’ve been telling you about? The one Edward’s really in love with? Her?”

An icy chill took over his skin and filtered to his brain and he stayed silent while his brain warred with his heart. She was probably telling the truth. He could end his pain and bring her into his life.

Ainsley bit her lip, looking up at him with hope smoothing the anger from her face. “Riley?”

But that would only invite more pain. And he was at his limit. Giving himself over meant allowing someone in, being vulnerable, opening himself up to having his life and his love and his sanity tested. Leaving himself exposed to the devastation of being broken when it all ended.

So he would end it now. “I want you gone.”

“No. You can’t do that, Riley,” Ainsley yelled, fists coiling at her sides. “There are two of us here, and you don’t get to make all the decisions!” Tears spilled from her eyes and rolled down to her chin.

“There never was a two of us, Ainsley. There was you and your manipulations. Whatever dream you had of playing me is over. Go home. I don’t want you here.”

Her glistening eyes stared at him, wide and disbelieving. She wrapped her arms around her stomach and curled into herself, and met his unblinking gaze. “I can’t do this anymore.” She turned from him, her head falling forward. “You can go to hell.”

A
insley left the dark cover of the trees as gracefully as she could until she was no longer in view of the barbecue, her mother, Edward, or Riley. Then she ran the mile back to her cabin, abandoning her future, gasping for breath and blind behind her tears. What had she been doing, thinking her love could change a man?

She waited outside the building, sadness falling on her like petals falling from a dried-out and unloved flower. Strains of music floated to her on the bleak wind. No way was she going into the cabin alone, so she sat with her back against the door and took out her phone to call Cecelia. But while her sister could give her the verbal comfort she craved, Ainsley also needed a friend with her, so she put the phone away without dialing. It was unfair to ask for Meagan’s support, but she knew her roommate would do it.

She had no tears left. No energy, no will to battle anyone anymore. They’d won. Jewel and the other women, her mother, the ones who’d left Riley so distrustful to start with. She couldn’t fight them all and remain undefeated. So she waited, desolate, abandoned, with her lonely heart.

Some ranch hands sauntered down the path, and she pulled her knees to her chest to keep them from seeing her. Other guests strolled by, but no one noticed the forlorn woman slumped against the door. Eventually dulled, determined steps alerted her to Meagan’s approach, and she watched with hooded eyes as her friend made her way down the path.

Her roommate studied Ainsley as she rose and brushed her hands together, wiping off the bits of gravel and dirt. “I was beginning to wonder what had happened to you. You look like crap.”

“It’s nice to see you, too.” That confirmed Ainsley’s suspicions that her eyes were still red and her skin blotchy. “Why aren’t you enjoying the party?”

“It ended abruptly when Riley stormed onto the stage and told everyone to let Cookie know if they needed assistance getting to the airport tomorrow. He said he’d be doing the work he should have done this past week and to not bother him. I thought Molly was going to strangle him, but she must have also seen how the air around him had darkened.” Meagan’s face reflected sympathy, though her blue eyes sparkled with a happiness she was doing a poor job of hiding. “What happened between you two? And why are you outside?”

Ainsley shook her head and blinked to hold back even more tears. “He doesn’t want me to stay,” she whispered.

“Oh, honey,” Meagan gave Ainsley a hug.

“I don’t understand what happened,” she whispered. “I just, I mean, I don’t…” she trailed off, too upset to think anymore.

“Let’s go inside.” Her roommate wrapped an arm around Ainsley’s shoulders and guided her into the cabin.

This was ridiculous. A man didn’t want her, was willing to believe the worst about her, and she was reduced to tears. So who cared if she thought she might be falling in love? Certainly not the object of her affection. She strode to the kitchen and grabbed the daffodils she’d received for the first round of this stupid singles retreat. Her hand closed around the petals and she ripped them off their stalks, her blood sizzling with suppressed anger and frustration. She threw the flowers to the floor and stomped on them with a pounding fury.

“I’m going home,” she announced, returning to the common room. “Come see me in Charleston when you get back. It can’t be more than a hundred miles between us.” Her roommate shifted nervously. A tightening sense of trepidation overtook her anger. Surely Meagan wasn’t a catalyst for any of Riley’s actions tonight. “What’s going on?”

“I’m not going home. At least, not quite yet.” Meagan covered her mouth with her hands, doing a poor job of hiding a smile that had her eyes crinkling at the corners. “Ainsley, I’m sorry you’re so unhappy, but I can’t be unhappy with you. I’m getting married!”

Ainsley had a brief flash of her friend and Riley, but dismissed it immediately. “Cookie?” she asked, and squealed and hugged Meagan when she nodded.

“He was so sweet and shy and could barely get the words out to ask me. I love him so much, Ainsley. He gave me the most gorgeous ring—” Meagan stopped to show Ainsley her finger, which sported a solitaire diamond “—and got down on one knee and asked me to stay with him and be his wife. I almost cried. I didn’t think he was going to ask me and then I would have had to find a way to ask him.”

Some of Ainsley’s own anger seeped away.

“We haven’t set a date yet, but you have to come to the wedding,” Meagan said. “I want to stay in Wyoming for a bit first, find a job, get to know the area. Say you’ll come, Ainsley. It won’t be the same if you’re not there.”

“Of course I’ll come,” Ainsley said, putting forth a burst of energy to make the words sound heartfelt. After all, it wasn’t every day a woman got a proposal of marriage, unless it was from someone like Edward. Her roommate rehashed Cookie’s courtship and didn’t notice that although Ainsley nodded and smiled, she spent the time on her computer finding the earliest flight to South Carolina.

Ainsley lost an entire day traveling, flying in to North Carolina and driving the rest of the way home. Her dark apartment looked exactly the same as when she’d left, down to the few sweaters laying over the back of her peach couch. Disappointment gnawed at her stomach. The stale air was a new addition, though, and she turned on a fan and opened a window. She had changed. No more would she let her mother determine her actions. No more would she let fear keep her from going after what she wanted. No more would others’ opinions affect her choices.

She went to Blooms early the next morning to get caught up on the bookkeeping and see what Tess had done in her absence. The familiar black-and-white checkered floor welcomed her home, but velvety floral scents stopped her short. Her mind flew back to the earthy and neglected smell of the greenhouse in Wyoming. Despite how she’d left the ranch, the little work she was able to accomplish with the flowers there had done some good. She filled her lungs and made her way to the office.

The computer files were completely up to date and each of the next three weekends had at least two weddings booked. That would keep her busy and her mind off… anyway. Ainsley flipped through the red notebook containing her reservations and found Tess had already interviewed the brides and ordered the flowers. There was little for her to do. So she got her camera and downloaded the pictures she’d taken in the greenhouse to start harnessing her inspiration for new floral creations.

The bell over the door rang, and she heard a cautious voice call out. “Hello?”

Ainsley bounded out of the office and wrapped Tess in a chokehold hug before she took a step back. “Your hair! It’s grown so much!” She touched her store manager’s head, rubbing the coarse, spiky hairs against her fingers.

“I know! I kind of like it this way.” Tess turned in a circle slowly so Ainsley could get the full benefit of her new look. “I’ve even had to start using product in it because it’s starting to get a mind of its own, getting all poufy.”

Ainsley squeezed her friend’s hand, feeling rough skin but no frailty, thank goodness. “Are you feeling okay?”

Tess shrugged. “Mostly okay. I’m a little tired every now and then, but it’s getting fewer and farther between. Ross stepped up when I needed it and I called that girl you’ve used before.”

“I’m so glad.” Ainsley hugged her again, then stepped back and took in her store. Nothing was out of place or needed help. She was as useless here in her own store as she was to her family. “You’ve done a fabulous job while I was gone.”

“I have to admit, at first I was intimidated, but I ended up really enjoying it.” Her manager filled her in on what she’d missed and Ainsley showed her the new flower combinations inspired by the greenhouse. They talked of everything except Ainsley’s time in Wyoming.

Tess regarded her with sidelong glances, but she wasn’t ready. Her time with Riley had been special, and talking about it would take away some of the glow, even if he had turned out to be an ass. Instead, she threw herself into work. Something did need fixing—one of the closet’s sliding doors had come off its track. She was grateful for the physical activity and the steady stream of customers who kept her mind from straying to the ache in her heart.

She had to say yes. There was no other acceptable outcome.

Edward stood on the ragged beige carpet outside Cecelia’s apartment, his knuckles and forehead both resting on the pale green door. He could do this. He’d come straight here from his early afternoon flight from Wyoming to ask this simple question. No big deal… just the rest of his life.

He had lifted his hand to knock when the door swung open and Cecelia barreled into him. “Edward! What are you doing here?” A purple backpack was slung over her left shoulder and she gripped her keys in her hand. “Everything okay?”

“You have class?” He gulped on the words. He had to do this now, before his nerves turned him into an incoherent mess.

“I’m meeting some friends to study. We have an exam tomorrow. Are you all right? You look pale.” She took his hand and led him into her small apartment. “Sit down and I’ll get you some water.”

He didn’t want water. He wanted her. He followed her into the kitchen. “Cecelia.”

She paused while getting a glass out of the cabinet. “You sound so serious, Edward. I mean, more so than normal. What’s going on?”

“I love you.” He leaned in and kissed her, her wayward hair caressing his cheek like delicate silk. Her lips felt so right against his. This was where he belonged.

“I know. I love you, too.” She smiled against his mouth and kissed him back.

“Marry me.”

She stumbled back, her green eyes wide and eyebrows raised. “Holy shit.”

Out of all the scenarios he had played out of this moment, that one had never entered his mind. Her eyes shifted to the side, avoiding his gaze. His face flushed and his heart plummeted into his pockets, pulsating in his body on the way down. “You don’t want to get married.” He turned to leave her kitchen, leave her apartment, leave her alone.

“That is absolutely not it.” She squeezed his arm, holding him in place. “Listen to me. I’m late. I have to get notes from Traci and then I’m coming back here and we’ll talk. Do not go anywhere. Anywhere! Understand?”

He managed a nod and she pressed her lips against his, hard. Without another look, she flew out the door. He stayed in the kitchen, unsure of what to do. There were dirty dishes in the sink, a cereal bowl with a spoon and a coffee mug, so he put them in her dishwasher. Because if he didn’t do something active, he would drive himself crazy thinking of what should have happened.

Now what?

He patted his trouser pocket. The ring was still there. Did it matter? His mouth twisted. He had expected the woman he loved to be wearing it by now. Why hadn’t she given him an answer? He wandered into her living room and ran a hand over the arm of the oversized striped sofa that had seen better days. It sat next to a neat and clean coffee table that held a few scratches. Five textbooks covered the table, some of them opened, words streaked with highlighter. With all the money she had at her disposal, she chose to live like a… well, like a college student. The décor was tacky and sophisticated at the same time and definitely would not fit his interior design, but he found he didn’t care. If she wanted to move her beaded lamp with the fringe into his apartment, he’d clear off a space for it.

Twenty minutes passed. How long did it take to get notes? He didn’t even know where she’d gone. Maybe she’d left to avoid him and was going to wait at the coffee shop until he left. It was right outside her apartment entrance; she could watch the front door for hours. Telling him to stay was to keep from hurting his feelings, not because she wanted to accept his proposal.

No, that was unlike Cecelia. She’d tell you what she thought whether you wanted to hear it or not. Still… with matters of the heart, maybe it was best not to take any chances.

He practically ran for the door, eager to leave before Cecelia returned. But the knob didn’t have any way to lock without a key. All her stuff would be exposed if he left without securing her apartment. Suppressing his desire to give the door a solid kick, he returned to the sofa. He flicked on a lamp to light up the darkening room.

The metronome of her kitchen clock droned on, creating a hypnotic tick. He picked up one of her books and flipped to a study on following subject drawings from childhood to adulthood. It was a way of passing the time, and it engrossed him enough that he didn’t register Cecelia coming home until she closed the door behind her. She didn’t move from the entrance, only studied him intently. Cold sweat pebbled his forehead and he gripped the arm of the sofa. His normal assured confidence had gone out the door with her earlier and hadn’t returned. He remained rooted in place, unsure of whether to greet her or wait for her to come to him.

She solved that problem, crossing the room on her long legs. “You’re still here,” she breathed. “I was afraid you’d leave.”

She slid onto his lap and wound her arms around his neck, pulling his head down to kiss him. She felt perfect in his arms, her body snug against his while her mouth tasted him. He could let it continue, pretend he’d never asked. His life had been planned for him since he was born, but this one time, he wanted something for himself. If she said no…

She leaned away from him, one hand caressing his cheek. “We need to talk.”

Oh, God. The death sentence. No conversation he’d ever had with Ainsley that started with “We need to talk” had ever ended well for him. His instinct begged him to run for the door, but he stayed on the sofa. If she was going to end it, better it happen now.

He swallowed around the lump forming in his throat. “So talk.”

He expected her to slide off his lap, put some distance between them. Instead, she cuddled closer, laying her head on his shoulder and tapping the buttons of his shirt. “Promise me we’ll have a complete conversation. You’re not allowed to leave if it gets too uncomfortable for you.”

Forget uncomfortable. He wanted to leave now. But he only nodded and stroked her long hair, perhaps for the last time.