I laugh.
‘Sounds good,’ I say.
‘I’m going to grab some OJ, anyone want some?’ he asks. ‘Toast the happy couple?’
We both laugh.
‘Yes please,’ I reply.
‘Ugh, I hate to see him go, but I love to watch him leave,’ JJ says as Jake heads for the drinks station.
‘You’re so pervy,’ I tell her.
‘And yet you’re the one blushing,’ she replies, giving me a playful push.
‘I’m not.’
‘You so are,’ she insists.
‘I am not!’
I probably am.
‘Honestly, he’s so hot, if it were a woman who owned this place she probably would’ve signed it all over by now – for free,’ she jokes.
I look Andy’s way again – he’s still watching. His gaze flickers away when I glance up, like a teenager caught staring at their crush.
‘See?’ JJ says without moving her lips.
‘Maybe he’s just confused,’ I suggest. ‘Wondering why we’re eating breakfast with a cowboy. Or maybe he’s seen the video.’
‘Maybe it’s both,’ she says, excited. ‘Oh, his little head must be about to explode.’
So if I’m going through with this, which I guess I am, then I’ll be keeping it from Andy too. I’ve never kept anything from him before – then again, I’ve been keeping my feelings from him just fine, so we’ll call this an addition on that.
What other choice do I have, but to go with the flow? It’s not going to get me Andy, JJ is reaching with that one, but I do really want that book deal, and it sounds like Jake really does want to buy the lodge and the stables and whatever else. I suppose that’s why he’s hanging out here, riding around on Biscuits, trying to show Mr Morgan that he’s the right guy to sell to. I do believe that he is, just going off the vibes, so I have to help him.
It’s something to do while I watch my best friend – the one I’m secretly in love with – marry someone else, isn’t it? And Jake will be a good crutch, for passing myself off as someone who doesn’t care.
Jake returns with our drinks. Honestly, there’s so much to love about this guy already. I can’t imagine pretending to be in love with him will be all that hard. He’s going to be the one who struggles to fake it because, you know, I’m me.
I glance one more time towards Andy’s table. His eyes are on me again – actually, I think they’re on Jake, and for the first time since I found out he was getting married, I feel something other than pure devastation. A spark… a possibility. Like I have options. Yes, maybe this is crazy, but it’s something. And maybe it’s just what I need.
15
It’s one of those delicious May days when it’s bright and sunny but not too warm. Heat from the sun, cool breeze keeping the edge off, but the world feels warm again after a long winter – and this one has felt especially long and cold for some reason.
I always feel better when the light evenings come back. There’s nothing like a dark sky at 5p.m. to make you feel miserable, especially once all the magic of Christmas has been cleaned up.
The grounds at Rosewood are already packed with flowers, pops of colour everywhere, and the green lawns are so vibrant. Not to be dramatic, but I feel like Dorothy Gale, finally stepping into Technicolour. And it’s funny, because it didn’t feel so bright yesterday. Sure, I noticed how beautiful the place was, but today the colours are more vivid, the birdsong is louder and I’m not in the fountain. Today I feel a glimmer of hope for my future, like my professional life might be back on track at least.
And, of course, strolling the grounds with my genuine cowboy fiancé doesn’t hurt. I can’t help but notice people noticing him. It’s the cowboy hat, the boots, the handsome face and the muscular frame.
Jake walks beside me like this is all perfectly ordinary. He’s got his hands in his pockets, shoulders loose, face calm in that annoying (but so sexy) unbothered way men seem to always be capable of rocking, whereas I can almost always feel my stress in my shoulders – my back is so tight between my shoulder blades, sometimes it gives my bra the day off.
‘That’s a strong hat,’ I tell him.
‘Yeah, I was wondering whether I should lose the hat,’ he replies with a laugh. ‘Back home everyone wears ’em, keeps the sun from your eyes.’