Cowboy in My Pocket by Kate Douglas Read Free Book Online

’em before.”
    Lee wondered what kind of reading material Coop preferred.
    Tag picked up the conversation as if he hadn’t been interrupted. “Then Betsy Mae flaked out on us. I sure appreciate you taking her place. My grandmother’s wanted me hitched for years. Lately she’s really stepped up the pressure. Betsy Mae said it sounded like fun, until she fell in love with that clown.” He snorted. “Her timing couldn’t have been worse, but I think my grandmother will like you a lot, Lee. That’s really what’s important, isn’t it? That’s the reason you’re here.”
    He smiled that perfect, lopsided smile at Lee. “Just to make an old woman happy.”
    “I see,” Lee said, though she wasn’t sure she saw anything at all. So he hadn’t been in love with Betsy Mae after all. Obviously he didn’t care who he married, as long as dear Grandma approved. Could he be gay?
    Impossible. She’d know that, wouldn’t she? “And this wedding is . . . ?”
    “Just like I told you.” He looked at his watch again. “In the front room, in less than an hour. We’ve got the preacher and the marriage license and everything.” Tag smiled like a man with a winning plan.
    “But I don’t have anything to wear,” she said, perfectly aware there were a lot of other, more important things she should be wondering about.
    Like how Betsy Mae had talked her into something as stupid as a marriage of convenience.
    Like who she really was and what she was doing here.
    Like where the bride and groom were going to sleep.
    Tag looked at Coop. Coop shrugged his shoulders. Tag glanced around the room, finally settling on the closet door. “I figured Betsy Mae would have taken care of that. Guess she didn’t. My mother was about your size. Maybe something of hers?”
    “Okay, I guess.” No, it’s not okay! But he talked like she’d already agreed to this, so her so-called friend Betsy Mae had to have talked her into it. Why can’t I remember?
    “Does your grandmother know Betsy Mae arranged this, um, marriage?”
    “No,” Tag muttered. “That’s something we’d rather she didn’t find out. The story’s gonna be that we met at the rodeo down in Durango, fell in love, and decided to tie the knot. Think you can carry it off?”
    “You want her to believe we’re in love? We don’t even know each other!” For crying out loud, I don’t even know myself! She sensed another headache beginning, and lowered her voice. “She’s going to realize we’re pretending, don’t you think?”
    Tag’s grin slipped, and the look he flashed at the old man could only be described as one of pure panic. “You’re right, I guess. Like I said, we’re, uh, still working out the details.” He took a deep breath, then once more grasped her hands between his. “Maybe we can, umm, work on, our, umm, rela . . . well, get to know each other. Just to make it look realistic,” he added in a rush of words.
    “I gotta go check the preparations, Tag.” Coop suddenly came to life and skittered for the door. “I’ll take care of everything for you. You just get to know the little lady.” He checked his watch. “But make it quick, okay?”
    The door bounced shut behind the old cowboy, leaving absolute silence in its wake. And Lee, alone in a strange bedroom with a devastatingly handsome man she didn’t know a thing about, except that in less than an hour he was going to be her husband.
    But first, he wanted to work on a relationship.
    Not a real relationship, of course. He didn’t love her, but he wanted a bride to make his grandmother happy? This would be weird even if she did recall what she’d agreed to do!
    She fought the urge to tug her hands out of Tag’s, and instead looked down at their linked fingers. She quietly contemplated her fingernails. They were perfectly manicured, the polish only slightly marred, each nail a flawless oval. They certainly didn’t look like the nails of a horsewoman.
    Her hands were so smooth. Tag’s