The Bad Boy Prince in Love

Chapter 2: The Award-Winning Singer

Hallie sashayed up to the stranger, holding the hat in her hands.

“All right, Luke, it's your lucky day!" his friends hollered, seeing Hallie and Jessica approach.

Hallie knew she was not model-beautiful, but she had a strong, somewhat curvy body, and a cute, soft-featured face with full cheeks and a slightly curved nose. Jessica was definitely the prettier one, but together, they were usually considered a couple of good-looking ladies.

They were both dressed in cut-off shorts and tank tops, the only reasonable outfit for this kind of weather. It left them somewhat exposed to the ogling of the party boys, but Hallie ignored them.

“I believe this is yours," she said, leaning over the one they called Luke.

The young man had been lying there in a daze with a relaxed smile on his face. Then he looked up at her and his smile turned into a happy grin, lighting up his blue eyes.

“My hat."

He took it and put it over his face as if preparing to take a nap on the sidewalk.

“Hi," Hallie began, “I believe you said something about being a cowboy. Would you like to experience life on a real Texas ranch?"

A muffled response came from beneath the hat. “Yeah."

Hallie wasn't sure whether he even understood what she was saying, but it was worth a try.

“I live on a ranch just a couple hours' drive from here. If you'd like to come with me, you can stay as my guest."

“Really?" He lifted his head, sliding the hat back so his face was visible again.

“Yeah." She leaned closer, speaking softly so the others couldn't hear. “As long as you don't mind pretending to be my boyfriend. It's just to keep my parents happy."

“All right, I would love to." He had a slight accent, something European. Maybe Russian or Hungarian?

“Um… okay then, let's go."

Hallie hadn't expected it to be so easy. She motioned for him to get up, and he reached out his hand, looking for help.

She rolled her eyes, hoping he was okay enough to walk the short distance to her truck.

He grabbed hold of her hand, hauling himself up. “American women are so strong! Always going to the gym."

“Yeah, right," Hallie said. “I'm sure the women are strong in your country too."

“I'm from Sarkadia," he said, “a beautiful country of lakes and mountains, but I'd much rather be here in Texas. I'm here on business."

“Good for you," Hallie replied. Was she in over her head? Was he going to be this chatty and obnoxious the whole time? But to annoy her parents, it would be worth it. “Can you walk?"

“Of course," he said, very pleased with himself. “Lead the way, lady."

His friends cheered as they watched him leave with the two women. It was only a short walk to the truck, and Jessica scowled the whole way.

“Is this for real?" she asked.

“Yep, I'm doing this," Hallie said. “You can't stop me. And don't worry, I can take care of myself."

“Okay, I would say text me to let me know how it turns out," Jessica said, giving her friend a goodbye hug, “but I don't think I want to know."

“Come on, it'll be a fun practical joke," Hallie coaxed as Jessica stalked away to her tiny car, parked nearby. “All right, let's go," she commanded her newfound 'date'.

“I'm sorry your friend doesn't like me," the man said, sounding sincere.

“That's all right, can you make it into the truck?"

“Of course. I know all about trucks," he remarked, though he made no move to open the passenger door.

Hallie shook her head. This was a first, opening a door for a guy. The usual custom in Texas was for men to open doors for a lady.

The party boy stumbled forward, trying to step into the cab, but didn't quite make it, and nearly face-planted onto the seat. It would have been amusing to watch him try further, but Hallie decided she had better get him to the ranch before he passed out.

“In you go," she said, trying to make sure he didn't hit his head as she dragged him inside. She then had to stuff his long legs in and make sure his shiny Oxford shoes had a solid footing on the floor of the cab since he kept falling over to the driver's side. The guy was certainly heavy, in a muscular kind of way, and very floppy.

Breathless from the effort, Hallie got behind the wheel, only to be confronted with a vaguely waving finger.

“Have you had anything to drink?" Luke asked. “Because I'm not going anywhere with a drunk driver."

“I haven't been drinking," Hallie said patiently.

“Good." He nodded a few times. “Let's go."

“Whatever you say, sir," she muttered under her breath.

Hallie couldn't help but smile as they got on the road. She had actually pulled it off. She got a man to agree to be her fake boyfriend.

Suddenly, she nearly lost her grip on the steering wheel, startled by what sounded like a howling cat. It was only Luke singing drunkenly, “Texas, you're my home!"

She was about to tell him to stop, but then she laughed out loud. The passion in his voice combined with the off-key screaming was too much.

“Ohhhh Texas!" he wailed.

As the truck left the city and sped by miles and miles of scrub brush in the falling dusk, Hallie asked, “So, what's so important about this hat?"

“Nothing…" he said, lifting the brim a little, “And everything."

Hallie knew he was talking nonsense, but it was kind of fun. “Really? Everything?"

“Because being a cowboy is the best thing in the world. You should know, being a cowboy, I mean cowgirl."

“I mean, it's all right," she allowed. “But maybe it's not all as wonderful as you imagine. I guess you'll see for yourself."

By the time they drove through the giant wooden arch with its Royal Strait Ranch sign, Luke had mostly stopped singing and seemed to be nodding off, though once in a while he would mumble something.

Hallie had to practically carry him from the vehicle into the main house.

“Oh, great, nobody's home," she grumbled.

“Home, home on the range!" Luke sang out blearily as he stumbled along beside her.

If only her mama and daddy could see him now! But they must have been out visiting friends, and they probably wouldn't be back until Luke the charmer was sound asleep. Hallie comforted herself with the thought that they couldn't miss how hung-over he would be in the morning.

She wasn't sure whether to try to take him up to the guest room or just leave him on the couch. She decided the couch would be best because everyone would be sure to find him there come daylight.

The nights were sometimes chilly here. She pulled one of mama's old quilts from a drawer. It was made of various old t-shirts and stuffed with goose down, a family heirloom that held so many memories. She spread the quilt over the stranger, just like her mama had done to her when she lay on the couch at times when she was sad or tired or miserable from a bout of flu.

Why couldn't things be simple again, like when she was a child? Now, her bond with her parents had lost that magical glow.

Lost in nostalgic memories, she almost forgot about the man sleeping on the couch as she trudged up the stairs to her bedroom.