Winning the Cowboy Billionaire - Emmy Eugene Page 0,14
between them. She extended her hand across the table, only intending to go halfway. He met her in the middle and squeezed her hand.
“I am sorry about teasing you about the knitting,” she said.
“It’s fine,” he said. “You did use up some of the bonus points you earned when you called my cowboy casual necktie sexy, though.” His eyes sparkled now, all of their previous darkness gone. “Just so you know.”
Olli blinked at him, burst out laughing, and began bargaining with herself about how far she could take this fake relationship.
Maybe it’s not fake at all, she thought, but she didn’t dare bring that up during the rest of their getting-to-know-you game.
The next morning, Olli woke with a happiness hangover. She stayed under the covers and kept her eyes closed, reliving one of the best nights of her life. Spur had lightened up after her apology, and they’d had a great evening together.
The man could dance, and Olli wanted to see him again immediately. They’d made no further plans to get together, and she rolled over and picked up her phone, intending to change that.
As she’d stood in Spur’s arms last night, laughing and dancing, she’d caught a whiff of his cologne. The man smelled amazing, and she needed to know what brand of cologne he wore. She also needed him to step into her world for a moment and help her find the best male scents for her new line of men’s products.
She started five different texts, each of them getting erased. She didn’t want to be long-winded, as Spur had said he didn’t have spare time. She seized onto the knitting, a smile forming on her face.
Wondered if you’d like to keep your hands busy at my perfumery tonight? I’d love your help with a line of men’s products I’m developing. My nose is decidedly female, and I need some Y-chromosomal input.
Before she could doubt herself for the sixth time, she sent the hopefully fun, flirty message across the acres between their two houses.
She sat up and stretched, deciding she better get out of bed before she fell back asleep. She had plenty to do at the perfumery that day, especially if tall, dreamy Spur was going to be there that night.
Panic’s grip tightened around her lungs. “Why did you invite him to the perfumery?” She rolled her eyes at herself as she stood. If her house could be called a mess, the perfumery should probably be deemed a natural disaster area. There was no way she could spruce it up before that evening, even if she went straight there now and cleaned all day.
“It’s fine,” she muttered to herself when her phone stayed silent. “He won’t come anyway. He’s your fake boyfriend, Olli. Not your real one.”
She walked into the bathroom, nearly tripping over Witcher. “Oh,” she said to the black cat as she steadied herself with a hand against the doorjamb. “You must be out of food.”
The cat never came out of hiding except for when he was out of food. Even when Olli sat on the couch at night, the TV blaring in front of her, Witcher stayed hidden. She’d had him for a few years now, and she’d gotten him from the animal shelter to have as a companion. She saw him less than she saw her own shadow, and that honestly would’ve been a better companion than the cat.
She detoured into the kitchen to get his bowl. She put it on the plastic mat by the back door, but Witcher always pawed it under the kitchen table to actually eat. She found his backstory immensely interesting, and she wished he could talk to her and tell her why he did what he did.
Cats couldn’t talk to humans, though, so Ollie used the long broomstick to poke the empty bowl out from underneath the table. Witcher meowed as she washed it with hot, soapy water, dried it, and filled it with more cat chow.
She put it on the plastic mat, and Witcher immediately began to swat at it. “You can just eat it right there,” Ollie said. “I won’t even watch.” She bent to pick up his water bowl, and got that cleaned and refilled too.
She’d just set it down when the buzzing sound of a weed-whacker or lawn mower met her ears.
Turning toward the front door, Olli’s surprise doubled. Who was at her house, doing yard work? Despite still wearing her pajamas, she crossed the dining room and kitchen and into the living