Who Wants to Marry a Cowboy?

by Abigail Sharpe

  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.

  “How many times have you proposed to my sister?”

  One could never fault Cecelia for dancing around the subject. “I don’t know. Too many. But she was never the right woman for me, Cecelia.”

  “Well, that was pretty obvious to everyone but you.” She grinned at him. “You were in love with her for a long time.”

  Good thing she’d extracted that promise and kept him anchored by sitting on his lap. The conversation went way beyond anything he would call his comfort zone. “Like she told me many times, I was in love with the idea of her. But after being with you…” Moisture gathered in his eyes and he blinked rapidly to hold off the emotion threatening to spill out. How embarrassing. He shifted his gaze away from her intent stare and cleared his throat. “It was like April sixteenth.”

  Her brows drew down and she tilted her head. “I don’t understand.”

  “I spend the time from January through April fifteenth buried in papers and numbers and receipts. When taxes are done, I have a life again. Discovering you on the cruise ship helped me shed restrictions placed on me by our families. By society. I don’t care anymore what anyone else thinks.”

  Her hand crept over his heart, the heat of her touch seeping in and warming his skin. “Be sure, Edward. Be absolutely sure that your feelings for me are genuine and you’re not just hooking up with the first girl to come around.”

  “You’re my happiness, Cecelia. Not Ainsley.” He cupped her face. “I love you. Please marry me.”

  Tears shimmered in her eyes and she nodded, holding each of his hands in her own. He kissed her, her sweet breath filling him with a life he had never experienced. She was going to be his forever.

  * * *

  Bright morning sunlight lit up Cecelia’s apartment as Edward crept naked into the living room. Good thing she lived alone. He picked his wrinkled trousers off the floor, patting the pockets until he found the ring. He kept it there and carried his pants into the bedroom.

  She stirred on the bed and gave him a sleepy smile, her blond hair framing her face like a halo. “Hi there.”

  He kissed her forehead and crawled back into her full-sized bed. Last night had been a bit cramped, but worth every moment. “Good morning, baby.”

  She snuggled against him, one hand playing with the springy hairs on his chest. Her slight touch zinged blood to his groin and he thought about making love to her again right then. But first things first. He got on his knees.

  She sat up. “What are you doing?”

  “We need to make it official.” He opened the small maroon box and took out the engagement ring. She gave a small yelp as tears slid down her face. It slid on her finger perfectly and she held up her hand to admire it. The heart-shaped diamond caught the light seeping in through the curtains, splaying tiny rainbows over Cecelia’s bed sheets.

  “Oh, my God. It’s amazing, Edward. It’s perfect.” She twined her arms around him, holding him tight. “You’re perfect.”

  He rolled her beneath him and was about to take her mouth again when the doorbell rang. Still, he kissed her thoroughly, enjoying the contours of her lips before he stood up. “I’ll get it. You stay here.”

  He grabbed his trousers and shuffled into them before opening the door to Cecelia’s apartment. Ainsley blinked at him and pressed her lips together, but a small smile cracked the corners of her mouth and a snort escaped into the air between them. He frowned and gestured for her to come in. “What’s so funny?”

  * * *

  Ainsley took a deep breath to stop her laughter. “It’s nothing.” The entire time she’d known Edward, she had never seen him in such a relaxed state. The lines on his face had smoothed. Even his posture was less rigid. Affection for this man surged through her and she realized she would be very happy to welcome him to the family. “This is a new look for you. You wear it well.”

  He took in his naked chest. “But I’m not wearing anything.”

  “Exactly.” Still trying to control herself, she entered the apartment in time to greet Cecelia coming down the hallway, tying her purple silk robe. Her hair resembled a bird’s nest, and Ainsley nearly started giggling again at the obvious case of bedhead. They rushed to each other and hugged tightly. It was so good to be home.

  “Boy, my nose is itchy,” Cecelia said, scratching it with her left hand.

  “Yeah? Why’s that? Are you allergic to something?”

  Her sister sighed and held out her arm. “I wonder what time it is.”

  Ainsley looked at Cecelia’s bare wrist and took out her own phone. “It’s a little after nine.”

  Her sister frowned even as she generated playful sparks. She stretched, thrusting her left hand under Ainsley’s nose.

  The light caught her finger and Cecelia’s gorgeous, heart-shaped diamond ring sparkled, matching her sister’s radiance. “Yay! Congratulations.” She hugged her sister again, then Edward, who had put on a shirt. “I know the two of you will be very happy together.”

  “When did you get back?” he asked. “I looked for you after the barbeque, but no one knew where you were. Not even that hulking man of a cowboy.”

  The tears she had successfully banked spilled down her cheeks. Cecelia wrapped her in a hug, murmuring soft words and stroking her hair. “Didn’t work out, huh?”

  Ainsley brushed the streaming tears away. “I can’t tell you how much I don’t want to talk about it right now.”

  “Hey.” Edward touched her shoulder. “Any man would be lucky to have you. Except me.”

  A small grin escaped her lips. “Thanks. I needed that.”

  Cecelia took her hand and squeezed. “Come by later and
we’ll talk. Just the two of us.”

  Edward stood behind Cecelia and wrapped his arms around her waist. She leaned into him and closed her eyes, contentment seeping over her features.

  “Excellent. I can’t wait.” Ainsley looked at her watch, eager to leave the newly engaged couple alone. “But now I have to get to the store.”

  How ironic that Edward was able to shed the weight of his family’s convictions and Ainsley was right back where she had started before leaving for Wyoming. While she was happy for him and Cecelia, heaviness settled over her like a large bow around a bouquet. She tapped her steering wheel and exhaled sharply. If she couldn’t make it work with the one man who had set her heart soaring, how could she make it work with anyone? She parked the car and headed into Charleston Blooms, ready to pick up with the floral creations she had started yesterday. Gerbera daisies and yellow solidago lay alongside fresh greens on the counter as Ainsley wrestled with them to make her design ideas into reality.

  Nothing worked like she had envisioned. What she thought would be breathtaking and exotic only looked awkward and ordinary. On top of that, everything reminded her of Riley. Her first design had involved the Indian paintbrush. The radio station played a song she’d heard when they went driving and the daisies mocked her attempts at a bouquet. And when she went into her office to take a break from her lack of creativity, the damn photograph from the introduction packet slipped out from a stack of papers when she lifted them off the desk.

  She put the papers down and stared at the picture, Riley’s handsome features twisting a thorn into her heart. It was ridiculous, but that didn’t stop her from brushing her fingertips against his lips. She had known the man a little more than a week, and here she was, upset because she’d found a photograph of him. “Get a grip, Fairfax,” she muttered to herself.

  Okay, so maybe she’d fallen for him a teeny, tiny bit. She really felt like she could be herself when she was with him. Maybe she thought he returned some of that affection, and maybe she was angry and upset that it didn’t end the way she wanted. She threw the picture away in the bin beside her desk. There were other flowers in the garden of men. Surely one of them would give her the same heart-racing, pulse-pounding feelings. The same renewed and energized spirit he’d brought out in her. The same heartbreak when he decided she wasn’t worth fighting for. Stupid men.