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“We’re supposed to go to the tractor pull tonight.”
Gretta’s eyes lit up. “That’s wonderful! I guess my matchmaking skills aren’t so dusty after all.” She winked. “You can tell him then.”
“About Andrew?” Vivian questioned, already pushing against the idea. “Don’t you think that’s a little soon? I don’t even know if what he’s saying is true.”
“Doesn’t matter. The sooner, the better, like I said.”
“What if it ruins the evening?”
“It’ll ruin it more if that asshole ex of yours shows up and Nash has to hear it from his mouth first.”
“So cut him off at the pass and risk Nash hating me forever over apossibility, or wait for my ex-husband to tell him and ensure that Nash hates me forever.”
“Doesn’t sound very promising when you put it that way,” Gretta mused, “but it’s the only choice you’ve got. Make sure you make the right one.”
“Yeah.” Vivian didn’t have much more to add. She was dreading the conversation she knew she needed to have. If she had it her way, she’d just deal with it quietly and on her own time. A call to her lawyer Monday morning to prove Andrew was full of crap, and she could move on with her life as she’d intended.
It didn’t look as if she could do that now. Andrew could be very convincing when he wanted to, and it appeared he had a lot of motivation to make sure he got his way.
Dammit.
“I hate to admit that you’re right—”
“But I am,” Gretta said with a smile and proud lift of her chin.
“Yes, you are.”
“Then what are you waiting for? Go get ready for your hot date!”
Vivian nodded and rose, leaving her unfinished tea on the table. That’s exactly what she planned to do. When Nash saw her tonight, he’d be so distracted, he wouldn’t hear a word she said.
TWENTY-ONE
“Have I told you yet how nice you look tonight?” Nash asked again, his blue eyes roving over Vivian’s body-hugging jeans and a tight black tank top. She’d even worn her cowgirl boots. The outfit was rather simple by her standards, but for Nash, it might as well be catnip.
“Only for the hundredth time,” she said with a laugh.
“Oh,” he said, frowning as he ran a hand through his hair. “Well, it warrants repeatin’.”
“Well, thank you again, but if you keep saying it, I’m going to start forming a complex.”
“Right. We don’t want you gettin’ an even bigger head.”
“Righ— wait, what? Did you just say I have a big head?”
Nash was all innocence. “Did you hear me say that?”
She scowled. “No.”
“Then nope.”
“Ms. Gretta is right, you are trouble.”
He shrugged and reached out to take her hand. Vivian accepted it, lacing her fingers with his as they strolled through the makeshift parking lot outside the field where the event was already in full swing.
“So, where to first?” he asked. “If you’re hungry, we can grab a bite to eat. If you’re thirsty, a drink. Or we can go find a place up front to watch the pull. Unless you’d rather check out the other stuff first?”
Vivian’s gaze darted around, unsure where to start first, as she’d never attended a tractor anything before. “Um…food sounds good I guess.”
