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He slides the ring on my finger and stands, pulling me into a hug, burying his face in my shoulder.
“Bet you never thought you’d say those words,” I joke quietly as the room erupts into claps and stunned cheers.
“No,” he responds with a weak laugh. “I had sworn off those words from every coming out of my mouth.”
I pull back and look up at him with a wide smile. “Welcome to engaged life, Mr. Declan.”
“Same to you, Ms. Myers.”
“Don’t you mean soon-to-be Mrs. Declan,” the man from the steakhouse says from our side. His name escapes me, but I’ll never forget how everything he said to Chance tonight was said with a snide or sarcastic comment. “You know, seeing you on one knee wasn’t something I ever thought I’d see or hear about, Chance. I have to say, if I didn’t see it with my own eyes, I’d never believe it.”
“Well, believe it, Bennett,” Chance grits between his teeth as he slips an arm around my waist and pulls me to his side.
“I think what you meant to say is congratulations. I’m so happy for you,” I say with the widest smile I can muster, when really all I want to do is punch this guy in the balls for talking to Chance like that.
“Yes, of course. Congratulations to you both,” he replies with a slimy smile and a tone filled with anything but true happiness.
For our fake engagement.
“If you don’t mind, I would like to celebrate with a drink,” Chance says gruffly, pulling me away.
He doesn’t give Bennett a chance to answer, instead just makes a straight line for the bar at the back of the room. Or, as much as we can with being stopped every foot by another person offering us congratulations and well wishes. There were even a few marriage tips thrown in from some of the older women, which I would appreciate if we were actually going to make it down the aisle.
He signals to the bartender to get a double shot of whiskey and a red wine for me, which he remembers to do all on his own this time. He stands with his back to the wall, assessing the crowd while pulling me in close. I’m sure we look like a happy couple sharing a moment after a big event, but I know that Chance needs this to regroup.
I wrap my arms around him and place my head on his chest, listening to the quickening beat of his heart. His hand is splayed wide across my lower back as he holds me close, no doubt keeping a close eye on when his drink will be coming.
My instinct is to crack a joke and lessen some of the tension, but I know it would be too much for him right now. He just put himself out there in a way he never would have normally. Even if he were to find a woman that he could think about spending forever with, there’s no way Chance would have proposed in such a public setting. Nothing about him has ever given the impression that he’s comfortable with any of the celebrity status he’s been given around Whiskey Falls. This leads to a whole new level of resentment for everyone in the room. They’re the ones that pushed him to do this, all because they believe in some bullshit theory that he needs to be married in order to successfully run a rodeo.
Well you know what? Fuck them.
I hold him tighter to me, wishing I could take it all away. I push aside my own feelings toward him, whatever that might be as they seem to change daily and grasp him tight like it will help me protect him in some way.
By the time our drinks come, I vow to make sure that these people will never judge Chance by some bullshit standards ever again, even if it means I’ll lose him forever.
Chapter Twenty
Chance
“Are you ready for this?” Wyatt asks at my side, looking over the grandstands.
“As ready as I’m going to be.” I look down from our suite high above the stands, wishing I was anywhere but here.
The turn out for the Whiskey Falls Rodeo has been the best yet. People have come in from all over the area to see the best riders Canada and the US have to offer. Opening day’s attendance last night was the highest we’ve ever had, and Dakota and I were able to pull off the image of two happy people that just got engaged. It killed me to don a smile and accept their congratulations, knowing it was all a lie and done just to make them feel better. But for the betterment of the community, I shut my mouth and let Dakota do the talking.
“You could look a little happier. It’s a great turn out.”
“Yup.” I take a sip of my coffee, wishing there was whiskey in it.
“Today’s numbers are looking like it might beat last year’s as well. Probably because Wallace is performing tonight, but whatever brings them in, right?”
Greyson Wallace. Whiskey Falls’ golden boy.
I haven’t seen him since we were teenagers, but the asshole always had a way of making luck fall on his side. First with his ability to get out of this small town and make it in Nashville, then the way he bounced back after his PR nightmare. I heard about his fall from grace last year, and how he was able to make a comeback.
I need a little bit of that luck right now.
“Yup,” I answer again, not taking my eyes off the crowd below.
