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She brushed something off the brim of his hat before she stepped back. “It’s okay. Technically, we weren’t even engaged. I only thought he was going to ask me to marry him . . . instead, he told me he didn’t think we were well suited for each other and asked if I would consider transferring to another school so things wouldn’t be awkward.”
“Another school?”
She nodded. “He and I work at the same elementary school in College Station.”
Rome snorted. “I hope you told him go to hell.”
“Why would I do that? He was right. It would be awkward seeing him at school every day.”
Rome was struck speechless. Most women he knew would have set the guy’s desk on fire . . . after tying him to it. Emily had had a raging screaming fit when Rome had forgotten their three-month dating anniversary. Which should have been an indication of her temper tantrums to come. Now that he thought about it, he had never heard Cloe even raise her voice. She had always been calm and rational.
“It worked out for the best,” she continued. “I wanted to take an extended leave of absence anyway so I could help get the ranch ready to sell.”
Rome knew the Holiday Ranch was in financial trouble. People who had owned their land as long as the Holidays didn’t sell unless they had to. It was too bad. He never liked to see a ranch go under.
“So when does your ranch go on the market?” he asked.
“Probably after the wedding. You think your daddy would be interested in buying it?”
Rome laughed. “You and I both know that your daddy doesn’t want my daddy owning any part of his ranch. And my daddy would never act like he was interested in Holiday land . . . even if buying it was the smart thing to do.”
Cloe’s summer-grass green eyes grew intense. “If you feel that way, then why don’t you buy it?”
Before Rome could get over his surprise at the question, Liberty came charging around the corner of the barn again. “I swear I’m going to start thinking there’s something going on between you two if you don’t stop hiding behind this barn. Now, come on. It’s picture time!”
Rome followed behind the two Holiday sisters with his mind still trying to absorb Cloe’s question.
Him? Buy the Holiday Ranch?
It was a foolish notion. His father would have a fit if Rome made an offer on his archenemy’s ranch. And Hank Holiday would never accept an offer from a Remington . . . unless the Holidays’ financial problems were worse than Rome thought. Why else would Cloe have posed the question?
If that were the case, then maybe the Remington-Holiday feud was about to come to an end.
Chapter Two
Cloe hated to be photographed. She either smiled so big she looked like the Joker or she smiled too little and looked like she was constipated. It didn’t help that the updo Belle had put her hair in kept sliding farther and farther to the side of her head. Or the scarf she wore really was ugly.
But she wasn’t about to take it off.
She had asked Liberty to order her a conservative dress. She should have known her anything-but-conservative sister would do just the opposite and order one that was too short with a plunging neckline. Cloe had been able to let down the hem, but her sewing skills weren’t good enough to fix a neckline and she’d hated to ask her mama when her mama had been busy getting ready for the wedding. So Cloe had improvised with a scarf.
Over the years, she had become an expert at disguising her overly large breasts with scarfs and loose clothing. For a person who didn’t like to attract attention to herself, big boobs were the bane of her existence.
“How you holdin’ up?”
Rome’s whispered question pulled her out of her thoughts. She wanted to turn and look at him, but she didn’t dare when Liberty had just finished posing them. Rome stood close behind her with his hands on her waist and his heat radiating around her like an electric blanket, making her feel completely flustered.
Which was why she had always steered clear of the oldest Remington. There was something about Rome that unnerved her. It wasn’t because of anything he did. He’d always been pleasant and polite. It was more a physical reaction she couldn’t quite put her finger on. It took a real effort to ignore the jumpy feeling in her stomach and answer him.
“I’m f-f-fine.”
“If you’re fine, why are you so tense?” His hands tightened, his fingers brushing her hipbones and sending a tingle running through her from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. She sucked in a startled breath and her nose filled with a scent that was soothing and confusingly familiar. While she was trying to figure out where she had smelled the scent before, he spoke again.
“I was just thinking. What if, for one night, we forget about our past relationships and enjoy the reception . . . together.”
She completely forgot about keeping her pose and turned to him. “Together?”
His eyes twinkled. They were the most unusual shade. Not quite blue but not quite gray. Like mist on a mountain lake. “Why not? You don’t have a date and I don’t have a date. It could be fun.”
