Read Online Who Wants to Marry a Cowboy? by Abigail Sharpe - Free Book Online

long strides took him out the door, and he headed to the house and up to his room, but his mind stayed behind with the woman with the soft voice and honey-colored hair.
    *  *  *
    Ainsley opened the cabin door the next morning, her grit-filled eyes squinting against the low sun. Even though her bed had been comfortable and her pillows appropriately fluffy, the sexy, rude, insufferable, primally masculine, antagonistic, and intriguing cowboy had invaded her thoughts for most of the night. Not to mention he also invaded her belly with a little quiver whenever she thought of him. Which was often. She had finally given up on sleep when light streamed in through her curtains two hours ago.
    Meagan’s sandals clicked on the floor behind her. “The sun’s not going to get any dimmer, Ainsley. Let’s go!”
    She held her breath for a moment before blowing it out. Going back to bed sounded better than heading to the brunch and seeing him again. Though flirting with him last night had been fun. Natural, like she could be herself, not the painted picture her mother wanted. Until he’d made her hide in the plants like a dirty secret.
    Meagan pushed her out the door, not giving her a choice. “Aren’t you ready to meet Riley?”
    No. “It’s why I’m here, right?” She pranced down the path so Meagan wouldn’t be able to see the change in her aura and tell that she was lying.
    Riley wasn’t the smelly cowboy she had envisioned. Instead, when he had crouched beside her, she got a hint of the outdoors, of pine and hay. Her belly fluttered again. Stop it . And his eyes. Swirling hazel, set off by dark, thick lashes, that had been hostile and cold when she first saw him but warmed like molten gold when he fought back a laugh.
    “Geez, slow down, Ainsley! It’s not like he’s going anywhere.”
    Ainsley paced herself, letting Meagan catch up while they approached the house. Not that she was eager to see him again.
    The heavy wooden doors opened and the two women wandered into the foyer. Instead of food being served in the kitchen like last night, a buffet had been set up against one wall. The six other women milled around, glancing upstairs, waiting for the famed Riley Pommer to appear. Jeanne bit the insides of her cheeks while she peeked out the front window.
    Pinpricks in her fingertips indicated her blood was flowing again and Ainsley let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. He wasn’t here yet. Good. The fresh aroma of just-baked bread lured her to the heavy wooden table covered with plates of eggs and bowls of fruit.
    “Oh, are you going to eat?” Jewel asked. She was standing with Leigh, the dark-haired woman from the previous night. Leigh wore that same preppy style—a straight black dress with a lavender sweater tied by the sleeves over her shoulders.
    Ainsley paused a moment at Jewel’s question before answering, especially because of their last conversation. Plus the friendly smile didn’t touch her eyes. “The muffins look really good.”
    Jewel looked over at the pastries, then scrutinized Ainsley as if comparing the two. “I think it’s great that you don’t watch what you eat,” she said, then sashayed away to stand near the stairs with Leigh.
    Ainsley watched her go, half caught between wanting to laugh and being insulted. “Did she just call me fat?”
    Meagan didn’t seem to hear. “I’m too nervous to eat,” she whispered, hooking her arm through Ainsley’s. “This sounded like a good idea back home, but now… I don’t know. I’m a little scared. I wish my family was as supportive as yours.”
    “Yeah, if you can call blackmail being supportive,” Ainsley muttered.
    An excited murmur passed through the women as a door slammed near the kitchen. Four or five dogs scrambled over each other into the room and Jeanne shooed them out the front door, relief etched on her face. The women surged forward as Molly came in through the kitchen.
    And there he was, standing twenty feet