He really wanted her to like him, because he really liked her.
Chapter 12
Heather
Nash was way more chill than Heather had been expecting him to be.
She almost felt comfortable in his presence, alone at the top of the world. It had taken all of her will power just to fancy herself up for the ‘date’ and to avoid her mother’s prodding questions, but now it all seemed worth it. She had been given a job to do, and she was going to do it to the best of her abilities.
“Who are you going out with?” Constance had asked.
“Just someone from the ranch,” Heather had responded, not lying.
When the sleek black business car had pulled up out front, and the uniformed driver had waited for Heather with his hand on the backdoor, Constance had narrowed her eyes and studied her nervous daughter’s demeanor.
“What kind of man doesn’t pick you up himself for a first date?” she’d asked.
“A busy man,” Heather had said, before kissing her goodbye on the cheek.
“You’re busy enough on your own!” Constance had shouted after her.
Heather had distracted herself on the car ride up to Fort Lipton by trying to think up ways to eventually break the news to her mother about who she would be ‘dating’. Her mother was getting old, but she was still fairly observant, and she sure loved to solve a good mystery. Heather almost regretted introducing her to all the murder-mystery shows she now binge-watched throughout the day. She knew her mother probably missed working almost as much as Heather had, but with her disability, she didn’t have much of a choice. She’d be able to use all of her free time to try and figure out who had sent a car to pick up her daughter.
It wouldn’t take a genius to dwindle down the amount of suitors who worked at the ranch and were rich enough to send their dates a car with a personal driver. Still, high-powered business men were known to visit the ranch at times—though less now than they used to—and Heather hoped that that fact might be enough to hold Constance off for the time being.
Heather’s mother hated Nash, and Heather had too, but that hate was slowly becoming less and less intense as their first date continued to unfold.
Nash was far more down to earth than any billionaire football superstar had the right to be, though Heather had to consider that his charm may have been enhanced by the amazing food of the Golden Sun.
“What was that called again?” Heather asked, as she sat back in her chair after scarfing down the last bits of her meal.
“Your dish was called Poêle, with a special Roast Beef Watanabe. It’s one of my favorites. Good choice.”
Heather rubbed her full belly and looked out of the nearby window. Fort Lupton’s old town hall was all lit up. It looked magical. “I sure could go for a walk right about now,” she thought out-loud to herself.
“We could do that,” Nash answered.
Heather looked back at the burly cowboy. He was smartly dressed, without giving away any hint of his status. He looked like any other ranch hand all duded up for a nice date. She appreciated his effort, though she wasn’t so sure she wanted to spend any more time with him.
At the beginning of the night, she’d wanted to make the whole thing go by as quickly as possible because she was sure she wouldn’t be able to stand being in the same room as Nash Winthrow for a single second longer than she absolutely had to. But now, after they’d eaten and gotten to know each other a little better, she just wanted it all to end because she felt like she was at serious risk of starting to actually like him.
She could hardly believe herself. Like Nash Winthrow? The man who was hated the country over? The man who had put her uncle out of work?
Heather shook her head. “No, I should get home.”
Nash looked disappointed. Heather’s heart sunk.
Don’t go catching feelings now, girl...
“I could drive you home?” Nash offered.
Heather checked her phone. It was well past her mother’s usual bedtime. Constance wouldn’t be up to pry. She considered his offer.
“What about the car that drove me here?” she asked, trying to find a good excuse to refuse.
“He gets paid whether or not you’re in the backseat. Plus, if you come with me, I can give him the rest of the night off.”
Heather couldn’t say no to letting a fellow working-person get some paid-time off. “You can drive me home,” she said, standing up from their table.
Nash smiled and then looked out onto Town Hall. It glowed in the night like a dream from the past. “We could still go for that walk, if you want?”
Heather followed his gaze. She could see half a dozen or so couples walking hand in hand under the streetlamps. The whole image was so romantic, it made her stomach flutter.
“Aren’t you worried about being recognized?” she asked. Nash wasn’t wearing his usual Stetson. His ruggedly handsome face was on full display, and it wasn’t like he fit in so well with polite society. He was over 6’3” and so broad shouldered that you might not be able to see him from arm to arm on a foggy day.
Nash shrugged. “I’m sure no one will bother us.”
Truth was, Heather couldn’t get the thought of walking arm in arm with Nash out of her head. His muscles were barely contained by his well-pressed shirt and the stone-cobbled streets outside looked so inviting.
She knew it wasn’t the smart thing to do though. This was a business deal, after all; they were partners with a purpose and that purpose was not romantic. Still, if she had been stupid enough to go to Nebraska and saddle herself with all that debt, she could excuse herself for being stupid enough to go for a summer night walk with her cowboy.
She’d just try to imagine he was someone else—but who could possibly be a better date than Nash Winthrow? If he’d never played football, or if he’d been a quarterback, rather than a linebacker, he might have been the most well-liked man in the country. She was sure he had been talented enough to play whatever position he liked, so why’d he choose what he did?
He was a mystery to her, and she wanted to know more. So, she gave in.
“Just a short walk.”
She swore she could see Nash trying to hold back a skip in his step as he led her back to the elevator and out through the downstairs parking lot.
The night was cool, but Heather wasn’t going to get any closer than she already was to Nash. His significant body heat was enough to keep her from shivering, even if they kept a solid 6-inch bumper between them.
“I’ve always wanted to come walking down here,” Nash said, as they passed under the first streetlamp. Heather’s low-heel sandals clopped against the cobble stone as she tried not to look at the handsome man beside her.
“You never have?” she asked, surprised. “I thought you said you came here all the time.”
“I go to the Golden Sun all the time,” he clarified. “But I’ve never gone for a walk through old town hall.”
“Why not?” Heather asked, confused.
Nash shrugged his big, brawny shoulders. “Didn’t want to get spotted; didn’t have anyone I wanted to walk with...”
Heather bit her tongue. Was he catching feelings for her too?
“Well, this is my first time too,” she assured him.
“How’s this first meeting gone, in your opinion?” he asked, drifting awfully close to her.
Heather didn’t shy away. “Better than I thought it would, honestly. I guess you might have been right when you said you weren’t so bad.”
They both chuckled. Nash’s forearm nearly grazed against Heather’s arm; the close call was enough to make her shiver, to want more.
Another couple walked by them. Heather caught the gaze of the woman and the two of them nodded politely at each other. She saw Nash nod to the man out of the corner of her eye.
They continued to walk in blissful silence, until a worrying sound caught Heather’s ear.
“That’s Nash Winthrow,” a high-pitched whisper cut through the night.
/> Heather quickly glanced behind her. The couple they had just passed had stopped and were staring at Nash and her. The woman shook her head. Heather turned back around and tried to ignore them, but the hairs on the back of her neck were standing up.
“Don’t worry, just keep walking,” Nash told her, clearly sensing her discomfort. He leaned in closer to her and took her hand. Heather’s eyes nearly popped out of her head. His fingers were huge and they wrapped around her palm like it was nothing more than a baby apple. His grip was tight, but also warm and reassuring. She didn’t pull away.
They kept walking until the whispers turned into shouts.
“Hey, Nash!” yelled the man from the couple.
Nash took a deep breath and kept his eyes trained forward. They kept walking. Heather tried to reassure him by rubbing her thumb over the back of his giant hand.
“Nash Winthrow!” belted the man again, loud enough this time that the name echoed around the old town hall.
Nash stopped and abruptly turned around. It was clear that every other couple on the road was now looking at them.
“What!?” Nash called back, not unkindly, but definitely impatiently.
“You suck!” yelled the man, with a big stupid grin on his face.
Heather felt Nash’s hand drop from around hers. They were separated again. A cool breeze blew over her back.
Nash just stared as the man giggled and quickly crossed the street, disappearing into the darkness with his partner. Heather was filled with anger.
“Who does that guy think he is!?” she asked, perhaps a little too loudly. Everyone was still looking at them.
Nash sighed and turned back to her. “Hey, it’s okay. It happens sometimes. You’ll get used to it.”
“No, I won’t,” Heather insisted. “That was so rude. What, just because you’re famous he gets to call you out like that!?”
A soft smile came over Nash’s plump lips. “Are you forgetting about how we first met?”
Heather froze. She could feel her cheeks flush from embarrassment. “Look,” she started. “I’m sorry. I’d been drinking...”
“So had that guy, probably. I don’t blame either of you. It’s part of what I signed up for... and now that’s what you’ve signed up to help change.”
Heather’s anger settled as she was reminded that this was indeed all business. Her heart went cold and she couldn’t feel any more heat coming off of Nash’s body.
“Yeah,” she mumbled, crossing her arms and shivering ever so slightly. “I think I’ve had enough for tonight. I want to go home.”
“I understand,” Nash said, his low voice subtly echoing through the quiet streets. Heather didn’t want to look up to see everyone still watching them, so she kept her head down and followed Nash’s feet until they were in the underground parking lot again. He opened the passenger door for her and she silently buckled in.
Nash didn’t try to say anything else the whole ride home.
Chapter 13
Nash
It had been years since Nash had actually felt like fighting a disgruntled fan.
After choosing to go to the University of Texas, instead of a Colorado university, he could hardly come home during the summer without getting into a scuffle. But when he got drafted to the pros, he put all of that behind him. He’d still been angry at the light he was being been cast in, but he’d also slowly been getting used to it.
By the time he had announced his retirement, being called out in public had become so commonplace that he’d nearly forgotten what life was like without it. Still, something about that guy the other night involving Heather in it all had almost driven him over the edge.
It had taken all of his will power not to show any signs of rage. He knew full well that if a football fan like that spotted a single opening, he wouldn’t hesitate to tear Nash open. Some might even prefer it if Nash took a swing at them, that way they could try and sue the pants off of him. The Lord knew that Nash didn’t need a lawsuit right now. Times were tough enough.
“That sucks,” Frenchie had offered, when Nash had told him of his near lapse. “Don’t go catching feelings now, one way or another.”
He knew what his friend meant. Caring too much would be the end of him, he’d long realised that. Heather had awoken something inside of him though, and it almost made Nash wish he’d taken the time to choose someone else for this whole venture—he could see himself getting far too close to Heather.
Still, Heather and him hadn’t talked for the whole ride back to her place, and then they’d only offered half-mumbled goodbyes when she’d gotten out of his truck. He hadn’t reached out to her in almost three days now and he felt horrible. What was he dragging this sweet innocent girl into? She clearly couldn’t handle the reality of this situation. Could he really put her through all that they were about to go through?
“Do you think we have time to change girls?” he asked Frenchie as they went over numbers in his office.
Frenchie looked up at him with raised brows, then just shook his head. “It’s too late for that.” He turned over his laptop so Nash could see the screen.
Nash squinted, recognizing the website layout. A gossip tabloid.
His stomach dropped at the title.
Who’s Nash Winfield’s New Mystery Girl?
Right below was a discreetly taken cell phone shot of Heather and him from the other night.
Nash sighed and rubbed his eyes. “Was that one of our people?” he asked. “I thought we agreed that last night would be more discreet.”
“It wasn’t one of our guys who wrote the story,” Frenchie said, turning the laptop back around. “You guys shouldn’t have gone out of the restaurant.”
“I know,” Nash said, shaking his head. He looked out of his office window onto the beautiful land below. He couldn’t go to it yet, there was still so much more to do. The park was getting emptier by the day.
“How long do we have until we go under?” Nash asked Frenchie. His agent had brought fresh numbers in that morning. They didn’t look good.
“This ranch or all of them?” Frenchie asked.
“What’s the least amount of time we have?”
Frenchie clicked on his laptop and shuffled through a stack of papers on Nash’s desk. It didn’t take long for him to have an answer.
“If things continue on this downward trend,” Frenchie spoke carefully. “Then we have about 5 months before we have to shut everything down.”
It was worse than Nash had thought. “We have to do something.”
“We are doing something,” Frenchie assured his long-time boss and friend. “Things just aren’t going entirely to plan. We were waiting to start leaking news of your past charitable donations for after you and Heather had settled in with each other, but now we’ve been caught off guard. I’ve instructed our PR team to start calling in anonymous tips about who you’ve donated to in the past. That should start to snowball. I say we have about a week before things start to get serious. Are you and Heather ready?”
Nash couldn’t help but snap. This was all so underhanded and moving way too fast. “Are we ready!? Of course not, French! We’ve only ever seen each other twice before, and the first time was when she was cursing me out in a barroom full of people—half of them being my own employees. Our first date did not end well either. I think she may be getting cold feet. I don’t know if she’d fully realized what it meant to be with someone who’s hated from here to Kingdom Come.”
Frenchie stayed calm. “Do you want me to call and talk to her?” he asked.
Nash shook his head. “No. I’ll call her. It’s the least I can do.”
“Remember, she signed a contract. She’s in this until the end,” Frenchie reminded him.
“She’s a human being, French. We’re not going to force her to do anything she doesn’t want to do. If she wants out, we’ll let her out.” Nash’s heart was nearly thumping out of his chest. He was getting more worked up now than he had in years. He could
n’t tell if it was because of what he stood to lose or if it was because of the thought of Heather suffering. He suddenly wanted to protect her all costs, but could he risk his family’s legacy, as well as thousands of jobs, just to satiate the girl who he was crushing on?
“If we let her out, all of this falls apart,” Frenchie gently argued. “Are you prepared for that?”
Nash didn’t want to answer. He turned his back to Frenchie and looked out of the window and onto the ranch and the prairie and the foothills.
“This all feels so dirty,” Nash grumbled.
“Sometimes you have to get a little dirty to get clean,” stated Frenchie. “This is business. It only feels dirty if you bring emotions into it.”
Nash knew he was screwed, then. Heather had awoken a flurry of emotion inside him that was intense enough to remind him of what he had gone through back when his dad had passed away. He’d eventually been able to bottle everything up back then, but it had taken years of hard work and determination. He didn’t have years right now. Nash was at risk of becoming wild and untamed again, and he knew the ranch wouldn’t survive it if he did. What was worse, was that he felt that Heather might be falling for him too. She had stood up for him the other night. Who was the last person to have done that? Even Frenchie had developed a callous approach to Nash’s purported villainy.
Nash couldn’t decide whether or not he hoped Heather wanted to bow out of the contract all together or date him for real. How had this all gone so awry so quickly?
He had to do something. He had to stay with Heather, but he also had to find a way to keep her at arm’s length. Was that even possible?
Suddenly, he had an idea that hurt his heart in just the right way.
“French, call Amanda up. We need a backup plan, just in case this whole Heather deal falls through.”
Chapter 14
Heather
“I told you, a man who sends a driver to pick you up instead of coming over himself is no man at all.”
A Cowboy's Fake Fiancée Page 8