My laughter came out thready. “Uh, if theydowet bars.”
“You have to come to the wedding,” Cara said, a note of finality in her voice. Delight grew across her face. “I’ve lost touch with so many people from the good ol’ days. It’d be great to have you.”
Good ol’ days? Other than how we dressed, that was the starkest difference between us. Graduation had been the happiest day of my life. It had meant I wouldn’t have to see people who made me feel horrible about myself on a daily basis.
“And I’d get to meet your boyfriend,” she said in a singsong voice. “It’ll be just like when we dreamed about our weddings. We’ll be together.”
Was she for real? As if she hadn’t come in here and low-key insulted me earlier?
Pleased, she hugged Brock. “Isn’t that wonderful? We’ll have people from the past and present there to show us how far we’ve come.”
“Mm-hmm.” How did I get out of this? I had to have something going on that weekend. She’d mentioned whirlwind planning. It had to be soon. Whatever excuse I gave, it had to sound natural. I could not be humiliated by getting caught in a lie about my single status. Not by my ex.
I hadn’t cried for days just to let Brock get to me again. I hadn’t relived every other breakup with an ex who’d said similar things only to repeat the cycle when I wasn’t even dating anyone. All those typos Wynter had called me on after nights of terrible sleep could not happen again.
I hadn’t even been able to get myself off. So much for proving that I wasn’t the reason it had taken so long to orgasm. Their wedding would be the great libido robber. No, thank you.
I cleared my throat. “Excuse me. I have to get these out before all the ice melts.”
I loaded a tray with drinks and scurried off. I struggled to get my breathing under control while I delivered the orders. At every single table, I asked if I could get them something else, practically begged, but since we were nearing closing time, they all passed. Damn the tasting room for not being open later on weekends.
What did I do? Find a date before the wedding? I’d only been single a year, but maybe I could use an app and just ask them to pretend with me. Was there a Tinder for fake dates?
My back was to the lobby entrance as the door opened, a waft of air crashing into me. A wave of heat followed.
It washim.
I turned, my gaze drawn to Tenor Bailey like there was no one else in the room. He stopped by Jason, probably talking about ranching. Jason’s land bordered the Baileys’ ranch. Tenor might run the finance department at Copper Summit, but he worked with Bailey Beef just as much.
The breathing I had tried to get under control quickened. He was so big. Tall and broad-shouldered, he was the tallest of all his brothers. Tenor had a way of slumping, of curling in on himself when he might otherwise loom over people. Was he aware?
Tenor Bailey occupied my mind far more often than he should.
He pushed up his solid-framed black glasses. Behind the lenses, his thick lashes were a few shades darker than his brown hair. He didn’t have a beard, but scruff always graced his square jaw.
He was scratching at his cheek as he listened to Jason. Tenor did a lot of listening. He wasn’t blustery or quick to add his two cents. Those qualities attracted me. I was a fluttery moth and he was a bright flame.
The guy could run numbers faster than should be humanly possible, but he never lorded over everyone how smart he was. The brainiac wore blue jeans and a simple rust-colored polo with a black Copper Summit logo on the breast. The cowboy boots that completed the look also consumed far more of my brain than they should.
One time, I’d seen him in a cowboy hat when he’d stopped in after helping with calving and I hadn’t been able to speak around him. A nerdy cowboy was my kryptonite.
A customer scooted his chair out, bumping into me. I jumped and nearly dropped my empty tray. “Sorry,” I squeaked.
Tenor glanced up. When his gaze landed on me, my pulse jumped. His pecan-hued irises were as unique as he was. He lifted a brow with an unspoken question—Are you okay?
I was never okay around him. He was older and confident and a lot more man than I’d ever associated with. I nodded and scurried back to the bar.
Cara’s second mojito was already empty. She leaned over, her eyes taking on a fevered glaze. Was the alcohol hitting her that hard already? “You have to tell me. Who are you seeing? Do I know him? Is he from Bozeman too? Wouldn’t it be funny if I’d dated him?” She guffawed and hugged herself to Brock. “I saved the best for last.”
Brock’s mouth curled into a smug smile as he slid his gaze off me and to his fiancée. “Me too.”
Jackass.
“Aw.” Cara had damn hearts in her eyes. “So? Who is he?”
I was back in the car, stuck on the train tracks with Locomotive Cara bearing down on me. “Oh. Um... you wouldn’t know him.”
I ran some fresh water to clean the dirty glasses I’d picked up earlier. Tenor broke from Jason and chatted with another customer, leaning down instead of towering over the guy. Gah. He was so considerate.
