This was exactly what Rhae deserved before she tied the knot—a night of pure, unadulterated fun.
Willow felt the music in her bones as they claimed a table near the dance floor, drinks coming as fast as the compliments on her dress. She was riding high on the attention, the freedom…
The promise of a night where nobody expected her to be the glue that held the family and so much more together.
After a few sips of her margarita, she jumped up and grabbed Rhae by the hand. “Time to dance!”
With a toss of her head, Rhae laughed and followed her into the middle of the dance floor. The thump of boot heels vibrated up into Willow’s calves as she twisted and bopped to the fast music.
After only two songs, Rhae returned to the table for a rest and refreshment, but several of their party flooded out to dance with Willow.
Someone bumped into her from behind. She ignored it—it happened in a big crowd like this. But when they bumped intoher again…and seemed to press up against her from behind, she whipped around to see a tall guy who worked on one of the nearby ranches.
“Willow.” His smile was too lazy from drink.
“Hi. Is it Braden?”
He nodded, pleased that she remembered his name from the single brief interaction she remembered ever having.
“Your brothers let you off the ranch tonight.”
She issued a short laugh. “Yup, they do that sometimes.”
“You sure can dance,” he drawled out, cutting his gaze to her breasts, then hips.
“I love it.”
“Lemme buy you a drink.”
She shook her head and raised her voice to be heard over the music. “Thanks, but I can’t. I’m at a bachelorette party.”
He made a slow grinding motion with his body that some women would have tripped over themselves for, but she’d been around this block a time or seven.
The music ended, and she prayed it wasn’t a slow song. Luckily, another fast song blared through the Rusty Spur, saving her from what was sure to be Braden’s stranglehold on her.
“I finally get to talk to you without your brothers breathing down my neck.” His eyelids drooped to half-mast as he looked her over and his stare attached itself to her cleavage like a leech.
She could almost hear her brothers telling her they were right about that dress—she shouldn’t have gone out in it.
But a woman’s appearance didn’t give any man the right to touch them.
Before she could say anything, his hands landed on her hips and he yanked her close. A cloud of vodka pinched her nostrils, and she pushed away from him.
He followed her, gliding his hands down her hips, his hot fingers teasing at her thigh exposed by the slit.
“Stop!” She stumbled back to put distance between them. Just then, fingers closed around her hand.
“Willow! Come on.” Her sister-in-law Aspen yanked her off the dance floor.
Relieved, she followed her through the crowd to their table. On the way, Willow glanced up to see a familiar man standing across the room, his back to the wall, beer bottle poised at his lips.
Decker Jansen was in the therapy program for military vets on the Black Heart Ranch. He didn’t look her direction as she hurried to her party’s table, and she didn’t try to catch his eye.
The night went on with drinks and appetizers shared between all of them. Willow’s eyelids felt heavy from the long day, and her feet ached in her boots, but she pushed through the exhaustion—this was Rhae’s night, and she wasn’t about to be the party pooper who quit early.
Everyone was laughing and carrying on, sharing notes on Willow’s brothers.
Willow broke in, holding up her phone. “Hey, ladies! We need group photos for the scrapbook!”
