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Cadence desperately changed the subject. “I should’ve guessed that wasn’t you in Nashville.” Strangely her voice only came out a whisper when she allowed herself to talk about what he’d done. She forced herself to sound stronger. “At least you have the sense not to go for Eva Trout.”
Porter just rolled his eyes. “West invited Nash there to keep her from hanging all over him. If Trout caught West messing with his daughter then he’d kill him.”
“Uh…” His twin didn’t see the complication with that? “What about Nash?”
“Well, West doesn’t care ifhedies.” Porter let out a dark laugh when her mouth dropped open in surprise. The twins must be more alike than she’d previously thought; both of them were horribly reckless. Porter shrugged, only looking resigned. “He can take care of himself.”
Porter had also admitted that he was worried about Nash. She tried to remember everything that he’d said, but this time with the real twin in mind. “Are you close?”
“Is that a mark against me?” he asked.
“Maybe.”
“We are,” he studied her carefully. “… not that he’s remembered that lately. I’m getting nothing from him, but I guess he’s a little busy. He’s got some scandal brewing with Emily.”
She gasped. “Nash and Emily?”
“Yeah, I’m actually a little blown away, too, but it’s all anyone could talk about when I came into the kitchen this morning. I guess they’ve blown up social media—the bad boy with the sweet little innocent country star. Looks like they ducked the paparazzi and went somewhere alone together.”
Was this why Emily wasn’t answering her phone calls or texts? She’d fallen for the twin? Her horrified gaze went to Porter and immediately her heart constricted as his twinkling eyes invited her to share in his mirth. Would Cadence be captured by that same Slade charm?
“Just look up #MissHarvestRanch,” Porter said. “They’ve caught a ton of footage of Emily with Nash.”
Oh no, no. Nash had been that mystery man on the motorcycle that had taken social media by storm. Emily usually had more sense than this. Cadence had to warn her, but how? She set the puppy down. It would remain nameless, for now. She needed to try harder to get ahold of her friend. “I need to go,” she breathed out.
Porter stood with her, watching her warily. She was aware that she hadn’t answered him about giving him another chance. She shouldn’t even try reasoning with him right now—she was too weak standing up against those pleading eyes. She’d give in. “Where’s my car?”
He wordlessly pointed to the exit on the other side of the barn. Steeling herself, she brushed off her shorts and headed down the long corridor. He scraped off the keys from the rack at the side and handed them to her. Opening the door, she saw her old Chevrolet parked next to some farm equipment. It was the shiniest that she’d ever seen the gleaming white metal.
She moved closer.
The windows were up. He’d scraped off the duct tape that had been on the glass. The cardboard she’d used to prop up the windows were gone. “You got these windows up on their own?” she asked.
He nodded, his hands in his pockets.
“Can they go down, too?” she asked. “It gets too hot inside when they’re up.” She laughed grimly at her predicament. “The broken windows are the only things that keep me from roasting alive inside.”
“No, they’re not,” he said. “They go down now, but… I also fixed your air conditioning.”
Her heart almost stopped, and she twisted on her heel. “You did what?”
His hands were out of his pockets in his eagerness to show her what he’d done. “The fan was broken. Did you know that your car had been in an accident before you bought it?” She shook her head. “It took forever to find a replacement for that fan. That’s what took so long to get it back to you.”
Now her heart was doing weird things—diving down into her stomach only to rush back up and choke her words from her. Porter never should’ve bothered putting the time into this. Her Chevrolet was a piece of junk, and yet… she felt so incredibly touched. No one else had ever tried to help fix her car before. They just laughed. She’d thought that was okay. She’d laughed too.
Porter hadn’t.
She ran into his arms. He picked her up. The keys in her hand jangled as he swung her around, kissing her mid-air, and she didn’t mind a bit. No, she was only grateful that she was back where she belonged.
He set her on the hood of her car.
“Ouch! Ouch!” Her legs burned against the hot metal.
He snatched her back up, looking rueful. “Oh honey, I’m so sorry.” His hands ran down her back. She couldn’t help it then—she kissed the roughness of his neck, and he let out a low laugh and caught her lips with his to give her an earth-shattering kiss that melted her very bones. Who was this wonderful man? He was such an absolute breath of fresh air.
He set her on her feet. “Saturday,” he said. “Say you’ll come with me.”
He made it very hard to say no. She poked her finger into his chest. “If you ever pull a prank like that on me again… I’ll…” His head tilted as he awaited her punishment. “I’ll… make the biggest pie that you have ever seen and I’ll… eat it all by myself.”
