The Cowboy Takes A Wife. Trish Milburn

       Chapter Four

      Cole stood in front of his closet, wondering what he’d gotten himself into. This wasn’t a real date, so no need to dress like it was. But to help Devon out with her mom, he needed to expend at least a little thought on what to wear so he didn’t look like he’d arrived straight from working in the barn all day.

      “Wear the blue one.”

      He looked toward his bedroom door to see his mom pointing toward his open closet.

      “Don’t get any ideas,” he said. “We’re just doing this so Angela will lay off Devon for a while.”

      “Hate to tell you, but I doubt Angela will stop trying to foist some fancy suit-wearing guy on Devon, even if you two convince her that you’re really a couple. And if you’re convincing enough, who’s to say it might not become real?”

      Again, why had he agreed to this? He needed Devon to fulfill her end of the bargain as well by telling his mom their “dating” was totally fake, that he truly had no interest in getting serious with anyone ever again. In hindsight, he realized he hadn’t thought his offer through before opening his mouth. His deal with Devon would have worked better in a sizable city where they didn’t know everyone in town and gossip hadn’t been perfected to an art form.

      He wore a green shirt, instead. One a couple of years old but still presentable. As best he could guess, it walked the line between not feeding the hopes his mom had of marrying him off again while also not embarrassing Devon.

      And he was giving a damn shirt way too much thought.

      After he finished dressing, he headed for the front door. His mom was sitting in the living room working on her latest quilt. When she looked up, she just shook her head. She didn’t need to say what she was thinking—that he was being deliberately stubborn.

      Reining in a grin, he walked over and dropped a kiss atop her head.

      “Be back in a while,” he said.

      “Take your time.”

      He had too many things to do to spend too much time on this fake date. He suspected Devon did as well and probably resented having to spend the time and tell the lie her mother had forced her into. Despite his mom’s tendency to try to fix him up, he realized he’d gotten darn lucky in the mom lottery. If he’d had a mother like Angela, he doubted he would have ever come back home. It made him wonder why Devon had stuck around Blue Falls. She could have started her business and had her farm in a million different places, and yet she’d stayed.

      If he thought about it, maybe his leaving a family with whom he got along well made about as much sense.

      When he reached Gia’s Pizza in town, he spotted Devon sitting in a booth toward the back working on a tablet computer as she sipped on what looked like a glass of water. Should he have picked her up? Meeting here seemed more like friends getting together, which of course was more accurate even though he wasn’t sure they were technically friends yet.

      But if tonight was supposed to help convince her mother that they were dating, he should have picked her up, opened the door for her. Too late now. He’d just be sure to pay the check.

      She looked up as he approached and smiled a little, almost as if she was uncomfortable. Before he had a chance to say anything, she spoke.

      “Sorry about this,” she said as she slid the tablet to the side.

      “About what?”

      “Pulling you into this mess.”

      He waved off her concern. “Don’t worry about it. Doesn’t take a lot of arm-twisting to get me to come eat some pizza.”

      She sat back against her side of the booth. “Figured you were more of a classic meat-and-potatoes kind of guy.”

      “Wouldn’t argue with that either, but you get used to eating what’s fast on the road. Burgers, fries, pizza.”

      “Heart attack waiting to happen.”

      “I think my mom agrees with you. I’ve noticed a lot of vegetables on my plate since I moved home.”

      “So you’re King of the Green Bean now?”

      “Among other things. Let’s just say this will be a treat.”

      Devon lowered her gaze just as their teenage waitress slid menus in front of them.

      “What kind of pizza do you like?” he asked Devon.

      “Pretty much anything. I’d say no to anchovies, but no need since I’m almost certain an anchovy has never crossed the city limits of Blue Falls.”

      “I’d say that’s a safe bet.”

      When she insisted that she truly didn’t care what kind of pizza they got, he went for a classic pepperoni.

      When the waitress left, he leaned his forearms on the table. “So what did your mom do that prompted the quick call?”

      “Showed up at my shop to chastise me for being rude to her and Steven.”

      “Pot, meet kettle.”

      “Exactly,” she said as if relieved she’d finally found someone who understood where she was coming from.

      “Has she always been on your case like this?”

      Devon laced her fingers together atop the table, and for a moment he thought she might not answer.

      “Unfortunately, yes. Not always about whom I should date, but there was always something.”

      He realized this was a bit of a heavy conversation for a first date, even if it was all an act. Still, it didn’t seem forced at all.

      “Why did you stay here?”

      “In Blue Falls?”

      He nodded.

      “I’ve asked myself that I don’t know how many times, but the short answer is that I love it here, always have, and I hated the idea of leaving my friends.”

      He thought she must really like the town and her friends to put up with her mother trying to run her life, but he didn’t say it.

      “I always thought you’d go off to a big city somewhere and do something like cure cancer or become a bestselling writer.”

      She looked at him as if he’d lost his mind.

      “What would make you think I’d do either of those things?”

      “You were so good at school, in every subject. Blowing the curves for everyone.”

      When Devon lowered her gaze to the tabletop, he realized how that must have sounded.

      “Which wasn’t your fault. The rest of us just should have studied more.”

      “It’s okay. I don’t mind that I was a bookworm. I still am. Being a nerd is cool now, don’t you know?”

      She said the words, but he wasn’t sure there wasn’t some hurt there anyway.

      “Did your mom make you study a lot?”

      “She expected good grades, but...let’s just say that kids who aren’t popular often retreat into books. It’s our happy place.”

      It was a strange thought, her being unpopular while also