That would have been fine had it not been for her personal history. Dylan lifted a brow. “Another of your makeover projects?”
Just that quickly the flash of temper appeared on her face. Emily propped her hands on her hips. “That would imply Xavier and I are romantically involved,” she retorted, resentment simmering in her low tone. “You know very well we’re not, and are never going to be.”
Dylan smiled—she had just given him the answer he was looking for. “So you admit you try and make over the guys you date?” he pressed.
Did her father also get in the act—behind the scenes, of course? Was that what had really prompted Shane’s offer to him earlier?
Dylan hated to think so. He wanted to think the proposal put to him was merit-based. On the other hand, he also knew Shane and Greta McCabe adored their only daughter and would do whatever they had to do to see she was well matched.
Even by giving her current “love interest” a hand up...?
Oblivious to the downward spiral to his thoughts, Emily continued, “Isn’t that what love is supposed to be about? Changing for the better because you’re involved with your ideal mate?”
Her lips looked so soft and inviting, he wondered what it would feel like to silence her with a kiss. But he told himself to stay focused. “I thought relationships were supposed to be about not having to change. Being adored for who and what you already were. What’s that saying?” He attempted to lighten the mood. “‘I love you just the way you are.’”
Emily scoffed. “It’s a song lyric, not a saying. And for the record—” she softened her tone wistfully “—I kind of like that you-complete-me thing.”
He should have figured she would be a Jerry Maguire fan. Knowing this had to be said if they were going to be friends, he pointed out sagely, “If the man and the woman ‘complete’ each other, then that would imply they can’t live without the other person.”
“So?”
Lazily, Dylan tracked the way the breeze was ruffling her hair. He reached over to tuck an errant strand behind her ear, then let his hand drop. “What kind of life would that be?” he asked unhappily. “If everything hinged on a person who might or might not live up to your expectations?”
* * *
IT WOULD NOT be the kind of life Dylan apparently wanted, Emily thought.
She sighed, her emotions abruptly as turbulent as his.
“Anyway,” Dylan continued, dropping his hand back to his side. He studied her expression. “I’m guessing your parents don’t know that Xavier hit on you.”
Thrilling from his brief, casual touch, Emily turned so her back was to the car. She lounged against the driver door, wishing Dylan wasn’t such a hard man to get to know. But he was extremely independent—and as emotionally elusive as the wild mustangs he was going to tame....
So she needed to forget about making him her next “diamond in the rough.”
After all, there was no point in pretending he would be willing to transform himself into what she wanted—any more than she would be willing to convert into what he wanted.
“I’ve been trying to forget that incident with Xavier.” Emily forced herself to get their conversation back on track. “And for the record, Dylan,” she warned, locking gazes with him, “I would prefer my family never know about all that cougar silliness.”
Suddenly, the humor was back in the situation. “Why not?” he said as his lips formed a most devil-may-care smile.
Emily’s exasperation returned anew. “Because Xavier’s pass was ludicrous enough without adding another layer of ridiculousness to it by having my father call him to his study and sit him down for The Talk.”
Abruptly, Dylan went very still, a fact which only confirmed Emily’s worst suspicions. Seeing her chance to do a little more sleuthing, she added cheekily, “You know, kind of like the one I suspect my father had with you today, about me?”
The kind that generally sent weaker men running for the hills...
Just like that, a wall went up. “It’s not going to work, Emily.” Dylan was the picture of lazy male self-assurance.
She stared at him.
He stared right back. “I’m still not telling you what was said.”
Emily sighed—she could have predicted that. Pushing away from the car, she suddenly felt reinvigorated. “Then how about doing something to cheer me up instead?”
Dylan pushed away from her car, too. “And what would that be?” he inquired with mock seriousness.
“Allow me to come and visit the mustangs again,” Emily said, this time stepping forward to invade his space.
Dylan stayed where he was even as respect glimmered in his eyes. “Are you going to have time?”
Emily ignored the tingle of excitement that started within her whenever they were within kissing distance. “I will if we go tonight.”
For a minute, Emily thought Dylan was going to turn her down. “Isn’t it a little past your bedtime?” he teased in a tone sexy enough to make her want to melt right then and there.
Stubbornly, Emily held her ground, knowing she wasn’t ready for her time with Dylan to end. “It’s only nine-thirty.”
He continued to look down at her, considering. “And you have to go to work at four tomorrow morning.”
“I can get by on very little sleep, when I want,” Emily murmured in her most cajoling voice. “Please, Dylan. I’ve been thinking about the mustangs all day. Wondering how they’re adjusting. If you’ve given them names yet.”
Seeming to realize her interest and concern were genuine, his expression softened. “They’re settling in. And no, I haven’t given them names.”
“Maybe I could help with that.”
“Thirty minutes,” he warned. “Tops. Then you have to be on your way.”
“Great.” Emily felt a completely uncalled-for fluttering in her middle. “You won’t regret it.”
* * *
THE TRUTH WAS, Dylan already regretted it. Emily McCabe might be all wrong for him, but she was also the kind of woman he could fall hard for. And the last thing either of them needed was any more complications in their already overburdened lives.
So on the drive over, he figured out how to get what needed to be done accomplished in the shortest time possible so he could send her on her way.
He led the way in his pickup truck. She followed in her car. The first problem appeared as soon as they had parked and she got out of her sporty little sedan. He looked at her shoes. No question, her sandals were not appropriate for the pen.
Emily caught his gaze and lifted a hand. “Not to worry, cowboy. I’ve got that covered.”
And to prove it, she sashayed back to the trunk and opened it up. Inside were enough clothes, shoes and purses to fill a closet. Deliberately, Emily fished out a pair of cowgirl boots.
“Come prepared, do you?” Dylan quipped, wondering if there was a toothbrush and nightie in there somewhere, too.
Emily shot him an arch look over her shoulder. “I’m a Texan, after all,” she declared with a warm, winning smile.
She was so darn charming he couldn’t help but smile back. “So naturally it follows...?”
She winked mischievously. “That I can’t go anywhere without at least one pair of boots.”
Dylan stood by while she bent to slip off her