My eyes graze over the top of the book and all the air leaves my lungs. It’s not the red dress, it’s something far worse. Soft, white with blue florals and some kind of gauzy overlay that moves when she breathes. The way it skims over her chest, it’s like someone tailored it to destroy me.
“You just left.” She sits down next to me and sets her multiple bags down on the sidewalk.
I close the book slowly. “It was a matter of survival.”
She tilts her head. “Hmm, and now you’re blushing.”
“Except that I’m not.”
She smirks. “For the record, this was your idea. It’s not my fault if my red dress had an impact on you.”
“I didn’t even notice you in it.”
“I guess it’s a virtue that you’re a terrible liar.” She blows out a long breath. “You know, I’m hungry. Is there a place to get a bite to eat in this one-horse town?”
“For the record, there arethreehorses in this town, and yeah, I know a place.” I stand and grab all her bags, loading them in the truck. “Hope you like sticky floors and waitresses that throw raw peanuts at you.”
She tugs her seatbelt across her lap. “I’m so glad I dressed up.”
The ride to the restaurant is quiet, except for the occasional rustle of a shopping bag and Jameson’s snores from the back seat. I’ve got both hands on the wheel, knuckles white like I’m bracing for impact. I wanted to get Roxanne some sensible shoes and outdoor clothing, and now I’m driving to a restaurant as the sun tucks itself behind Granite Peak.
I’m sweating through my shirt like a damn teenager with a grocery store corsage. I keep telling myself this is just logistics—we’re hungry, so we’re eating—but it feels like a first date with the most incredible woman I’ve ever met.
And hell, I’m nervous. It’s been a long time since I’ve done this. My last date was pre-COVID and involved someone who thought my name was Luke.
I should’ve taken her to the Tin Can Saloon where they really do toss peanuts at you, have messy burgers and cheap beer. That would have meant a quick meal and paying at the cash register. Instead, I find myself turning down the road to ThePines before I can stop myself. They’ve got craft beer, trout almandine, and a live band tonight. For some reason, I want to show Roxanne a good time, be the man she deserves, open doors for her, and treat her to a really expensive bottle of wine.
By the time I kill the engine and throw the truck in park, I’m half regretting it, but I’m telling myself this is for Firebird. If Roxanne is having fun and making new memories of Colorado, the ranch has a real chance to be saved. Yeah, this is for the ranch and not for my own heart.
what’s my name again
ROXANNE
I’m definitely livingup to Duke’s nickname for me. IamTrouble because what the hell am I thinking? I told myself to let my guard down tonight because, hey, we’re not at the ranch. Dinner? How am I going to get through it and still maintain my professional boundary?
Mostly, I blame the champagne at Fern & Fable and the way Duke was looking at me when I stepped out in the red dress. He licked his lips, and that little move made me feel attractive and wanted. Two things I have not felt with a man in a long time. Duke also doesn’t flinch around my scar. When my ex saw it, he recoiled and stepped away from me, not feeling an ounce of guilt that he was the one who helped to cause it.
I just want more of Duke’s attention, at least for tonight.
We pull into the parking lot of The Pines, which is what I can only describe as a charming mountain wedding venue disguised as a restaurant. This is an intimate place, warm and romantic, and I’m pleasantly surprised once again.
“Really? Sticky floors in thisplace?”
“Yeah, changed my mind. You’re wearing such a pretty dress, didn’t you want it to stick to a booth with holes worn in the seat.”
“What about Jameson?” I ask when Duke opens my door.
A crooked smile lifts one corner of his mouth. “He’s wiped. He’s used to sleeping in the truck.”
I confirm this by peeking through the truck window. Jameson is snoring away, curled up in blankets in the back seat.
“He appreciates your concern, but he’s happy we’re leaving him to dream for a bit.”
Duke opens the passenger door in the back and pulls out a navy blue dinner jacket and a brown leather belt out of a kraft paper bag. My pulse skyrockets as he undoes the button of his jeans.
“Relax, Trouble,” he says, tucking in his shirt and looping the belt through the loops. “Can’t accompany you to dinner looking like I just mucked a stall. Need to look like I belong with you since you’re looking so damn beautiful.”
“Oh, thank you.” I swallow hard and glance away, my pulse tripping over itself.
