“Ozzie, not again.”
“Can we pretend?” He took my hand and held it tight.
“What do you mean?”
“This is the most fun I’ve had with someone in a while, Gray.”
“But all we’ve been doing is driving.” I waved at the stretching horizon and the barren landscape. “This isn’t even much of a scenery.”
“But it’s the first I’ve felt like myself in such a long time. That’s why I want to pretend. I don’t want anything to ruin how I feel right now.”
“What do you want to pretend?”
Our eyes met, and his gaze held a softness that shot straight to my core. “That you’re the one I’m marrying, not your son.”
The words hung in the air, tangible as smoke. They filled the cab, a truth too real to dismiss, too dangerous to entertain. My heart skipped a beat, then resumed thudding violently against my rib cage.
“Ozzie, do you know what you’re asking me?”
“Just for one night, Gray.”
There was only one acceptable answer to his ludicrous request. One I couldn’t give, even though it was the right thing to do. I didn’t want to see Ozzie’s sad eyes this evening, but didn’t he realize something was wrong with his engagement with my son if he wanted to pretend to marry me?
“How far do we go with this pretense?” I asked.
“There’s no limit. For as long as you are comfortable.”
Fuck, with Ozzie teasing me with sex, how could I turn him down? I wasn’t a saint.
“We’ll have to be subtle with Lawson and Opie,” I said. “So they don’t question us.”
“That’s fine, but afterward, we can pretend you asked me out for a date to propose.” His eyes sparkled again, and his smile was more beautiful than the rising sun warming the land after morning dew.
Ozzie tugged the ring from his third finger. He stared at it for a few seconds, then handed it to me. “For safekeeping.”
Because after our little game, he would slip it back on and, poof, turn into Carter’s fiancé again? I squelched the rising bitterness and accepted the ring.
Ozzie wriggled his fingers. “It feels odd to no longer wear it, but at the same time freeing.”
“Is that what you want? Freedom?”
“For this evening.”
“Well, you’re out of luck.” I took his hand and kissed the back of it. “Tonight, I’m going to lock you down and make you mine.”
“That’s so hot, Gray.” He slammed his mouth back onto mine, and we grunted and moaned, groping each other like two horny teenagers with a 1980s Tony Danza wall poster. Except Ozzie was hotter and made me harder.
“Okay, we need to stop this if we’re going to make it to Lawson’s.”
Ozzie giggled. “True. We have after.”
Ozzie fell into the part of happy, soon-to-be fiancé easily. The rest of the drive, we held hands, exchanging flirtatious glances and hidden smiles as if we were a real couple. I told him about me playing football in college and my grandmother, whose death had broken my heart. And if we both deliberately avoided the topics of my marriage and his engagement, we didn’t acknowledge it.
Soon we arrived at Lawson’s ranch. Over the years, he’d worked hard to build back his grandfather’s legacy. His dedication to the land reminded me of mine. Many would have given up when he’d hit rock bottom, but the man refused to throw in the towel. Now he had a husband who was right there with him through the tough decisions.
I gave Ozzie’s hand a squeeze. “Stay right there.” I hopped out of the truck and dashed around the bumper like a young, overeager buck.
Ozzie smiled. “Thank you.” He glanced around, then kissed my cheek, prompting a smile from me. He was so damn sweet.
