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Emily shook her head at her manager. If Nash wasn’t mistaken, she was trying some of that girl code that they thought men couldn’t read. He couldn’t, but the gist of it was that Emily was mortified, and quite honestly, Emily showing any emotion around him besides amusement was a good sign.
“We have an interesting proposition for you,” Mia continued, undeterred.
“Mia!”
“Oh, Emily, you’re fine,” Mia shot down her concerns. “As you know, the Little Miss Harvest Ranch hashtag has been our undoing, but ever since Emily was seen with you, her stocks have gone up.”
Nash ripped his gaze from Mia to catch Emily’s embarrassed hazel eyes. Her cheeks were turning red right in front of him, making her freckles stand out like sweet little embellishments on a raspberry tart. Of all the sweet pleasures of life, he loved getting this reaction out of her.
“Hey, wait a second.” He tried to put together what Mia was saying. Suddenly he didn’t mind her interruption as much as before. “You want me to be seen with Emily?” he asked. “Like as what, like as a fake boyfriend?”
Emily covered her face. “No, no, no.” She was so cute. More than anything, he wanted to add to her embarrassment with more outrageous suggestions like that.
“Yes,” Mia said at the same time.
Shock jolted through him, followed closely by amusement… while he studied her nails painted with American flags. Mischief wrapped its familiar arms around him, and he laughed. “I accept.”
Emily’s chin shot up. “You will not! No, no, that was a joke. Mia, tell him you’re joking. I came here to let you have it, Nash!”
“You’re going to let me have it?” He liked the sound of that. This sassy side of Emily was a lot of fun. “By all means, let me have it.”
“Well, you deserve it,” she said, “because you–you keep hanging out with that Eva Trout. And she’s awful. And what are you up to, anyway? West keeps dragging you into these horrible–horrible situations.”
“… where we keep meeting,” he reminded her soberly. He was worried about her.
“Yes, but… I don’t want you to be caught up into trouble.”
She was concerned about him too. His stomach clenched at what that could mean.
“And Emily would never get into that kind of trouble on her own,” Mia said. “We all know that she needs you for that.”
That was both unflattering and tempting—no matter her manager’s stupid reasons; this would give Emily lots of time with him, lots of time where he could tear down her walls and really get to know her, figure out why she kept herself so safe from the world.
Emily would finally see for herself that Nash wasn’t just some unfeeling player. He was capable of loyalty and real affection.
The temptation was quickly outweighing the cons, and history told him that when the temptation was more than he could bear, he usually went for it. But what was good for Emily?
He gulped, studying her expressive brows, the soft curve of her cheek. His ribs felt tight as he realized how vulnerable she was with this cutthroat managing her every move—forget Emily’s career, Mia had her life in her tight grip. If Mia didn’t use Nash to resuscitate her reputation, she’d find someone else. Maybe someone dangerous.
Emily needed him. Suddenly he understood what Eva meant by being the man who could protect his woman.
Nash cleared his throat. “You need someone to dirty up your name, huh? Well, you asked the right guy.” Strangely, depressingly, it was true. He’d have to tread very carefully.
“Done,” Mia said.
“No, not done.” Emily’s intriguing heels were back to digging into the ground. “I’m trying to say that I’m worried about you, Nash! And I want to help you, not use you for your–your bad boy reputation so it can rub off on me! And–and how can this be any good for me anyway?” She stepped back from him, her face showing him exactly how much he’d miscalculated her willingness to play along. “How many arms do you have? Huh? Any left for me? You’ve got Eva and all those other girls just hanging all over you! You realize what my hashtag would be after this: Little Miss Got Played. No! I’m not letting you oranyone elsebreak my heart!”
She swung around, taking her guitar with her.
He stared after her. Nowthatwas emotion. Anyone who said that she was a cold fish didn’t know what they were talking about. She actually cared about him.
Mia shoved him. “What are you waiting for? Go after her.”
He rushed forward, past the bulls waiting in the cages, heading towards something infinitely more scary—his heart.
Mia got on her headphones behind him, and he listened to her clear him to get through security. He was really doing this.
