The storm in his chest raged anew. That last part was true. Ann had told him herself. “What kind of article? What does it have to do with me?”
“You’re basically the guinea pig in her experiment. She’s supposed to act a certain way—do certain things to see if it will make you fall in love with her, and if it does, it just makes her story all the more interesting. It’s probably why she decided to stay. I’m sure she really just needed more data to record in her little laptop so she can score that job.”
Trey had seen clips of hurricanes and tornadoes. Rare footage of the sheer destruction that takes place in neighborhoods, beaches, and shopping centers. It seemed nothing was safe. Deep-rooted trees were ripped from their roots and thrust into neighboring homes. Diesels flew like paper airplanes, weightless in an aimless flight toward their ruin. Similar things were happening inside him. All the doubts he’d tucked and stowed. All the fears he’d placed on back burners and brushed under rugs.
He braced himself with one hand on the counter. Tucked his face into his other, his palm breaking out in a sweat. She’s lying, he told himself. Jenessa lies all the time. She’s making this up to break us apart.
As futile as his attempt might have seemed at first, it did him more good than he imagined. The tense muscles in his neck eased considerably. The inner uproar tamed. “Jenessa,” he said, lifting his chin as he strode past her. “Thanks for your concern, but I’m confident that I know Ann a whole lot better than you do.”
Jenessa followed him toward the door. “Maybe you do. But that doesn’t mean what I told you isn’t true. I swear it is. I swear on my life she’s using you for some dumb article. Has she told you yet? I bet she didn’t even tell you.”
Trey pulled open the door, spun to look at her, not really thinking about what she said. Somehow, he’d built up a decent barrier. He couldn’t let it collapse already. Besides, for what he didn’t know about Ann, he could make up for with what he did know about Jenessa. This was clearly a desperate attempt to pull him away from Ann; he wasn’t about to let it work. “Have a nice night, Jenessa.”
He closed the door behind him. Leaving Jenessa there at the house. Alone. He tipped back on his heel, wondering if he should have asked her to leave, when he spotted a truck tearing down the long dirt road. Good, Max and the guys were back. Perhaps they could keep her company. And hopefully, keep her from causing any more trouble. And as Trey sped down the dirt road, waving at the ranch hands as he passed, he shook off the residual spurts of panic that pulsed through his blood. Jenessa doesn’t know what she’s talking about, he assured himself. Soon the things she’d told him would fade from his mind completely, and he’d be left to enjoy his time with the woman he’d fallen for.
Chapter 32
Movies weren’t exactly Ann’s go-to; she’d always preferred a book instead. But even still, when going out with a friend or snuggling in blankets with Netflix, she could usually get into the show and enjoy it. So why was her mind on everything but the movie?
One minute she was thinking of the article and considering the best way to tell Trey about it. The next she was thinking back to the way he’d come into her room, the words he murmured in her ear. I don’t want to lose you.
She lifted a bored brow as an explosion blasted across the screen. Flames flying. Smoke pluming. And some hero crouched just shy of the shrapnel.
Just as Ann let out a discouraged sigh, Trey gave her hand a squeeze.
She glanced over, worrying that he’d caught the less-than-impressed expression on her face. His expression said he wasn’t thinking of the movie either. It looked… almost sad. Ann had the terrific urge to reach over and hug him. Hug him so tight that nothing could take him away. Whether she was in love with him already or simply in love with who he seemed to be, Ann wasn’t sure. She only knew that she couldn’t fathom flying back to Seattle without knowing when they would see each other next.
“I love you, Annie” he mouthed.
The truth of those words sprouted like a wildflower in her heart. No, like a field of them. Free and flourishing and pure.
“I love you, too,” she mouthed.
Trey leaned over the armrest, whispered her name, and then kissed her long and slow.
Flowers continued to bloom within her, their roots sinking deeper and stronger as the petals unfurled. And she knew—Ann knew that after that moment, she would never be the same.
The movie wasn’t so bad after that. Although, she couldn’t have told anyone what happened in it if her life depended on it. But what Ann could articulate, quite clearly now, is how it felt to be close to someone who loved her. Of how the energy shifted once they said it aloud. Of how she so deeply wanted to protect the man next to her from any hurt or harm or foul.
Perhaps she should just tell Tom that she didn’t want the articles published after all. She’d pay him back for the airfare. Take sick-days in lieu of the paid workdays he’d allotted.
The idea seemed like a solid one as she considered it. The perfect way out. Yes. As long as she could get out of the contract she’d signed. Tom would be disappointed, she knew that much, but her relationship with Trey was more important.
“That was a crazy ending,” Shane said as they filtered out of the theatre. “Didn’t you think?” he glanced back at Ann and Trey.
“Yeah,” Trey mumbled. “Pretty wild.” He shot Ann a grin.
“Definitely,” she agreed.
“Why don’t the girls hit the ladies room,” Cassie said, “and we’ll meet you guys at the exit.” She un-looped her arm from Shane’s, then hooked a hand through Ann’s arm and tugged.
“See you in a minute,” Ann cooed, sounding sappy even to herself.
Trey gave her a quick peck on the lips. “See ya.”
Chapter 33
“Looks like someone’s got some talking to do,” Shane razzed as the women headed toward the restrooms.
Bright lights glowed from the popcorn booth, the buttery scent thick in the crowded space. Trey took a step forward as a group of giggling girls walking behind him got a little too close.
“You two getting serious?” Shane prompted next.
Trey’s face flushed with heat. “I think so.” He shifted his weight and felt a kernel crunch beneath his boot. “I know it seems fast, but we’ve probably spent more time with each other than most couples do after months of dating. Seeing each other all the time like we have.”
Shane pulled a genuine grin, slapping a hand on his shoulder. “That’s how it was with me and Cass. I’m happy for you, man. I really am.” He pointed toward the exits. “Would you mind waiting for the ladies while I hit the concessions? I want to surprise Cassie with another box of Milk Duds, since she’s eating for two and all.”
Trey chuckled, nodding in response as his phone buzzed. He pulled it from his pocket while he walked, saw the call was from Jenessa. “Nope.” He sent it to voicemail, and noticed that he’d missed several texts from her throughout the movie. He scanned over them, catching a few words:
‘…shouldn’t trust her….’
‘…such a liar…’
‘…if you don’t believe me look at this.’
He was determined not to look. But as Trey swiped over an image she’d sent, it filled the screen. A cartoon version of a girl in cowgirl boots, a wide grin on her face. In her hands was a lasso, which was hooked around the waist of a man on a horse. Scrawled across the picture was a tag line. One Trey read aloud as he took it in.
“How to catch a cowboy in ten days?” Next to that were two words Trey would have given anything to un-see: “By Ann Simpson.” His heart sunk to his boots. No, no, no. Jenessa’s lying. She’s making it up.
His body didn’t seem to buy it. Tight throat and sweaty hands and rocks rolling through his gut.
“You ready to roll?” It sounded like Shane’s voice was coming from a box.
“Huh?”
“Cassie texted me and said they’re waiting for us at the west exit. Not this one.”<
br />
Trey tucked his phone into his back pocket and nodded. Wordlessly, he weaved through the swarm of couples and kids and people who looked a lot happier than he felt. Jenessa was such a liar. Ann would never write garbage like that. There was no way.
He told himself that very thing during the drive home while Ann held his hand from the passenger seat. Was he acting normal? Probably not. He just needed to get home, say goodnight to Ann, and read over the rest of Jenessa’s texts. If they held any merit, he’d confront Ann himself. Until then, he needed to play it cool.
Once they were back, Trey climbed out of the truck quickly. By the time they made it up the porch steps, he realized Ann had been saying something. Something he hadn’t fully caught. A story about her grandmother.
“Sorry,” he said. “I think I’m coming down with something. Feels like I might have a fever even.”
Ann tilted her head. “Oh no! You’re sick? Do you want me to get you anything?” Crinkles formed along her forehead as she searched his face. A face that was too kind to be so cruel. He took in the light splash of freckles across her cheeks. The innocence in her eyes.
“Um, no, I think I just need sleep. I hope you don’t get it. With us kissing earlier…”
She grinned. “If I do it was worth it.” She pulled him in for a hug, but Trey cleared his throat and stepped back.
“I really don’t want you to get sick. Let’s just call it a night and get some sleep.” He kissed the top of her head before turning to open the front door.
Crickets played their song in the night as Ann squinted against the porch light. “Alright,” she said with a nod.
“Goodnight.” He hadn’t meant for it to sound so curt.
Ann’s cheeks flushed red. She swiped a lock of hair away from her face. “Oh, yeah. Goodnight, Trey.” She managed a lopsided grin. “Get feeling better.” Her shoulder nudged him as she hurried past and darted down the hall. He’d hurt her—it didn’t take a genius to tell—but what if she’d hurt him, too? On purpose?
The house was quiet.
And once he flicked off the lamp in the front room, it was dark, too.
In the stillness, Trey trudged over to the couch and stared into the darkness.
Thinking.
Thinking.
For the first ten minutes or so, he tuned into the quiet sounds of Ann readying for bed. The bathroom door opening. Water running. The tap of her toothbrush against the sink. He’d seen her tapping the water off it when she was done brushing the other day. She’d grinned at him while doing it. “Sorry. I’m leaving so you can shower. I promise.”
And then there were no sounds at all. Which left him to his thoughts once more. If she’d written an article about catching a cowboy in ten days… what would that mean? That she’d never had any feelings for him? That he really had been her guinea pig this whole time? He shook his head. No way. There was no way someone could act out that whole thing. The picture Jenessa sent was as horrible as the title. Ann wouldn’t associate herself with something so ugly.
Ten days, huh? Let’s see, the wedding was on Saturday… He started counting it out. Originally she had just three days to stay. And then she’d announced—from the airport no less—that she might extend her stay for an extra week. A sick knot spun in his gut. That’s ten days. Had she really stayed behind for him or had she stayed behind to make it an even ten for the article?
Dread and fear nearly kept him from checking his phone. Part of him wanted to delete the texts and forget they’d ever come. Moments before, he’d told Ann that he loved her. And when she’d said it back without reserve, it had been one of the most thrilling moments in his life. And that kiss—he’d been able to kiss her with all the passion of a man who loved a woman.
He spun the phone in his hand, flattening it against his palm before spinning it again. At last he stopped, brought it inches above his face in the darkness, and swiped.
If you don’t believe me, take a look at the proof. These are emails on her laptop from a guy at Seattle Daily. You can see that she’s been sending him notes about your dates this entire time.
He scrolled down, felt his stomach churn as he skimmed briefly over the emails. Ann had documented simple events from their date at the bar. The fact that she’d asked him to play the Win A Kiss game. How he’d won and kissed her. She even wrote about the way she’d told Jenessa no about playing pool. And how she opened up about her past when they lounged on the grass beneath the tree.
Enough! Trey stopped there.
He dropped the phone onto his chest and stared at the darkness until tears stung his eyes. He blinked, sending them sliding along his temples and into his hair. When Shell died, Trey cried silent tears for weeks. He’d spent most of his time at the ranch. Caring for her horse. Assuring the gentle creature that he missed Shell, too.
Shay would miss Ann’s attention. The two seemed to connect, after all. And a horse—like a human—knows when its loved. And Ann sure did love Shay. More tears came, and Trey shoved his palms against his eyes and sniffed.
His heart felt like it’d been put through the hay cutter. He’d fallen in love with someone who didn’t even exist. How would he get over this?
At least when Shell died he’d been able to attend her funeral. But what do you do for the death of someone who never existed in the first place?
He sniffed again, wiped the moisture off his face, and sat up on the couch. That’s it. He’d leave. He had to. The Emerson’s would understand. Randy was set to take over for him soon anyway. He may as well get an early start on the ranch he’d take over.
In moments flat he’d shoved clothes into his bag. At least he didn’t have to face Randy and get another lecture on not giving a girl a fighting chance. This time he had, and it’d come back to bite him.
If he hadn’t fallen in love with Ann, he’d want to confront her. Make a fool out of her by catching her in countless lies. As it was, Trey only wanted to go off on his own and mourn the great loss in his life.
As he passed through the kitchen once more, Trey spotted Ann’s laptop on the dinner table. It was such a prominent sight, the thing might as well have been circled in red ink. He stared at it for a moment, his breaths jagged and loud. No. He wouldn’t look at it. But there was one thing he could do.
After locking the door behind him, Trey pulled out his phone. He gulped after opening a new text for her. Hands shaking, he typed a few simple words.
You might have caught yourself a cowboy in a matter of days, but now you’ve just lost him. Good luck with your article.
His thumbs hovered over the screen as he considered typing more. He wanted to say that he really did love her. But she’d probably just use it for the article. Written proof that she’d gotten the dope to declare his love for her.
No thanks.
Besides, maybe he didn’t really love her after all. How could he when he didn’t know the real her. A woman capable of doing what she’d done? Trey didn’t even know that person.
He hit send at last and, before he could get a response, powered the phone off completely. “Bye, Annie.”
Chapter 34
Ann flung the covers off her body in one, swift kick, before shrugging onto her side. Who was she kidding? She wasn’t going to get any sleep tonight. Not after what had happened.
She’d replayed the evening in her head a million times.
First Trey had told her he loved her, and then he’d closed up like a clam.
Was he worried about things moving too quickly? Maybe. Especially after she’d returned the sentiment. It was discouraging to say the least. On the drive home, Ann had been trying to work her way into telling him about the article once and for all, but there was no way.
He just seemed so… different after the movie. More than cold-feet different. He was pulling away from her.
A small buzz sounded as her phone lit up on the night table where it was charging. She’d kept the thing tucked in her purse the entire day; the battery had probably
died hours ago.
Ann tugged the charger from the device and yawned. This was going to be a long night. She squinted her eyes against the screen’s brightness, realizing she had a text from Trey.
“What?” “Yay,” she whispered. She sat up straight and brought it closer to her face, relief flooding through her.
She read it aloud, softly, her voice dwindling as the meaning of his words washed over her. “You might have caught yourself a cowboy in a matter of days, but now you’ve just lost him. Good luck with your article.”
Ann shook her head as beats of panic shot through her. “No, no. What does he mean?” She read over it once more, staring at the screen in disbelief. It was the ending that told her exactly what he meant—the article. He’d found out about it.
“Shane,” she blurted. “That has to be it.” Cassie had probably told Shane, and Shane said something to Trey… chances were this could be set straight with a few simple phone calls or texts.
In fact, maybe Cassie had already shot her a text to warn her about something Shane had revealed. Ann quickly swiped back to see her other text messages. One had come in earlier that night. Probably while they were in the movie, but the number hadn’t been logged into her phone.
I found out about what you’re doing to Trey and it’s wrong. I’m telling him because unlike you, I care about him.
Who would send something so… off base? Not to mention vicious?
She gasped as an image came to her. Out on the patio, sharing secrets about life and failures and dreams. “Jenessa! Oh my gosh, oh my gosh.” Jenessa had told Trey about the article. What a beast!
Ann reached along the side of her bed for her laptop, but came up short. She flicked on the lamp and explored further, remembering that she’d had it in the kitchen earlier. Right where Jenessa could see it.
In those moments during the short, hectic trip down the darkened hall, Ann cursed herself for not putting a password on the thing. Living alone as she did, she’d never felt the need.
How to Catch a Cowboy in 10 Days (Unlikely Cowgirl) Page 15