“New York?” I swallow. “Y’all are really moving to New York?”
“After our wedding,” she confirms. “So I only have to deal with this blistering sun for a little longer.”
Any sympathy I had for Logan and his secret “errand” goes out the window, and I want to get rid of Gigi right now. But I don’t see how. However, my urge to shoot something right this moment is overwhelming.
“Hey, Gigi. You want to learn to use a shotgun?”
Logan
“Hey!” Blake catches up to me as I’m halfway to my cottage. “You’re entering the bronc riding competition at the Hunt County Fair this year, right?”
“Yep.” Practicing for the rodeo has been a welcome distraction from the shitshow that my life has become.
“Cool.” He takes off his cowboy hat and wipes the sweat off his brow. “If you want, I can be your spotter at the competition.”
“Sure.” I glance over at him. “Why do you want to be a part of it? You hate town events.”
“True. But I promised Freedom I’d go on the roller coaster with her.” He chuckles. “She’s never been on one and she wants to do it once before going off to college.”
I chuckle too. “Henwoods have a tendency to puke on those rides.”
Blake makes a face. “Seriously?”
“No. I’m just fucking with you.”
He shakes his head. “Good to know. So.” He grins. “You’ve put off our tubing plans.”
“I haven’t put them off.” Not exactly. “I was in New York and…”
“You’ve been busy,” he fills in for me. “But after your engagement party, we’re all going to the river. No excuses.”
“Fine.” I turn off at my cottage. “See you later.”
I go inside and walk over to my covered easel. I set up the dropcloth and prepare the paints.
And then, I lift the cover off the easel.
My painting for Macey is nearly done. It will definitely be ready for her birthday, but I’m going to have to give it to her before then. Because on her birthday, I’ll be?—
Getting married.
I never wanted to get married. But I can’t forget how I felt when I woke up in Vegas with a ring on my finger and Macey next to me in bed. I felt…happy. And I haven’t been able to shake that feeling.
I don’t know what I’d be doing about that feeling if I wasn’t going full steam ahead with a fake marriage. I don’t have enough bandwidth to figure that out.
As I start painting, my mind wanders to the day I left Darcy to track down the man intent on ruining the Henwoods.
When I reached West Texas, I checked into the same hotel as the one I’d heard him mention.
I was there for three nights, almost crazy with doubt before I spotted him for the first time. I’d been camped outside with my easel for hours each day, hoping to run into him. The way I finally did—well, that was a surprise all in itself.
I was painting the burnt sunset behind the mountains when someone tapped my shoulder. I looked back at a curvy blonde who couldn’t have been more than twenty years old.
“You’re a painter?”
I nodded.
“What are you going for with this one? Besides a sunset?”
