“Cole, dear,” Momma said. “Did West say anything about this girl he’s bringing?”
Momma looked almost giddy for her “dear, sweet boy.” She shouldn’t. This was the infamous Eva Trout they were talking about here. West had dragged Nash to work with him in the city just to get her off his back. The spoiled socialite had a huge crush on West, which already showed that she was a poor judge of character.
She was a babe—at least that’s what his twin brothers finally admitted when Cole pressed them on why West wasn’t going for her—pretty clever, too. The real problem was that her daddy was Devlin Trout, one of the richest and most ruthless men in Nashville, whoalsohappened to be West’s boss.
West wasn’t about to cross Trout by going for his daughter; he was the reason that West was so filthy rich. So what was his brother thinking bringing her home? He was looking for any excuse to get rid of her. Cole almost wondered if that was the reason that West was trying to push her on him. But no, that was too low, even for West.
Cole pulled some milk out of the fridge. “He might’ve mentioned something about it, but I figured he’d tell you.” They had plenty of rooms to accommodate a small army, but Momma would want to air them out first.
“It must’ve slipped his mind.” She knew West was obnoxiously thoughtless, but she never allowed anyone to talk smack about him. She pointed to the fridge. “Mind pulling out that potato salad, and can you finish cutting these up?”
She must be really desperate to delegate the kitchen to him. He palmed the bowl with one hand, and got ready to swig the jug of milk with the other.
“Don’t—” His eyes lifted over the jug to his momma waving her knife at him. “—drink that like you’re one of our livestock, Cole. Let’s pretend my boys are civilized for once. Guests are coming. Get out a glass like I raised you right!”
“Listen to your momma,” his father yelled over from the stairs where he was heading for a shower. Cole’s lips curled up. He doubted that his father even knew what he was seconding, only that Momma had spoken. Their old man sneaked plenty of drinks from the milk jug.
“Sorry,” Cole muttered. So much for saving time. He set the milk and the potato salad on the counter and held out his hand for the knife. “You going to give that up or stab me with it?”
“Honey, I would never!” Her eyes traveled over his dust-covered body. “You just got back from the pasture, haven’t you? You should’ve hosed off in that shower in the barn.”
“Momma, let me help you. I’ll take a shower when West gets here.”
“No, no! Shower up and be out here in five minutes. I want this girl to know I didn’t raise my boys in the barn. She comes from Nashville! And if she runs in West’s circles? Oh, she’s going to be from one of those high-class neighborhoods.”
If you could call some desperate influencer hounding West high class, then sure. He preferred a low-drama country girl, but Cole surrendered to his momma’s bidding with a shrug. “I’ll be back in five. Why don’t you do what you need to do and save those veggies for me?”
His momma went back to chopping the veggies like she was possessed. “Just make sure that the guest room next to yours isn’t a disaster. I’ll put her in there.”
He winced. There were plenty of rooms away from him, closer to West. This would only make his brother more emboldened about leaving her in his hands.
Cole backed up towards the stairs. “How about the red room?” he asked. “It’s…”
“Emily is taking it.”
“The blue?” he tried desperately.
“Cole!” his father shouted from the master bedroom. “Stop giving your momma lip and do whatever she says.”
How did he always know when Cole was trying to get out of something? Sighing, he whipped around on the stairs to his room, so that he could take one of the fastest showers of his life.
Chapter Three
So far, so good! Daddy still hadn’t called West demanding that he bring his little girl home. Eva only had so much time to work with. Now how to convince West that he should be as crazy for her as she was for him?
Eva had a few ideas.
The impossible man used a table between them on the plane as his barricade against her. She edged around it, dancing his squirming puppy into his arms. “He wants his poppa.”
“Oh no.” He shook his head stubbornly. “I amnotthat puppy’s daddy.”
“You’re not?” He sure acted like it. West had trained that pup for hours to sit, catch balls, and play dead. He always hugged that scrawny body close when he thought she wasn’t paying attention.
Joke was on him. She always had her eye on him.
The guy pushed everyone away that meant anything to him. No way was he getting away with it anymore.
Eva fell into West’s lap with his puppy. “Oops.”