After seeing him off, I stayed in town. Given the failures of my very expensive matchmaker—okay, most of that was on me—maybe what I needed to do was strike out on my own and meet a guy in the real world. The decision to stay in town may or may not have been influenced by the presence of a scorpion in my sock drawer, but the less said about that, the better.
Suffice it to say, country living had been a little more challenging than I’d bargained for.
My hotel was right in the middle of Austin’s SoCo district, so I checked in, put my things away, and slipped out into the night. I made my way down South Congress, took the obligatory selfie by thei love you so muchmural, ate some fantastic street tacos,then meandered, following an enchanting guitar melody that I eventually tracked to a small club.
Sticking my hands in my pockets, I strolled over and watched the guitar player through the big picture window at the front of the bar. Her eyes were closed, her long hair spilling over her shoulder as she played a pretty Spanish melody. The song was familiar, but I didn’t know the name of it.
Surveying the quirky interior of limestone, colorful art, and dark wood, my eyes caught on a man at the bar facing away from me. I couldn’t put a finger on what drew me in, but he had wavy thick brown hair down to his shoulders and was wearing a cream Henley and blue jeans with some broken-in cowboy boots.
Emery said that now he lived in the country, he could easily tell the difference between a city boy wearing cowboy cosplay and an actual cowboy. Something about boots that were too shiny and wearing a cowboy hat where one wasn’t needed.
The cowboy shifted to watch the guitar player, and I sucked in a breath. Even in partial profile from outside the crowded bar, I could tell it was Rowdy. His hair down was as beautiful as I remembered it, only now I knew it smelled like good shampoo, with a hint of something muskier. Something that was all Rowdy.
God, I want to kiss him again.
Jealousy lanced through my chest when I saw him sitting next to a stunning man, whispering in his ear. Rowdy must’ve said something funny because this guy, this stranger, threw his head back and laughed, smacking Rowdy’s thigh as he did.
Where Rowdy had this soulful, natural vibe about him, his friend wore a mix of masculine and feminine clothes, along with what looked to be high-end makeup. I wondered if this might be one of his hookups, but they seemed to know each other too well for that.
Was Rowdy actually dating someone?
Nah. He adamantly stated he didn’t date.
God, please don’t be dating someone.
That request was hella hypocritical given my recent forays into dating, but I didn’t care.
Still, I felt like a creeper staring at Rowdy through the window. Just as I decided I should move on to one of SoCo’s other offerings, Rowdy looked up and we made eye contact. His brief surprise turned warm as his broad smile took over his face. He motioned for me to join them. As I made my way inside, he leaned over and whispered something into his friend’s ear.
The friend’s eyes widened as they turned to look at me. I wasn’t sure what to make of it as I closed the distance. Time was running on its own schedule, and before I could blink, I was standing in front of them, no idea what to do with my hands.
Rowdy hopped up and gave me a big hug, which I returned—and then held for too long, if the jump in his friend’s eyebrows was any indication. I gave Rowdy another squeeze—wait, one more—before releasing him.
Don’t kiss him. Don’t kiss him. Don’t kiss him.
Had he always smelled this good? And why was a simple cream-colored Henley spackled to his spare muscles so fucking sexy?
“Kess!” Rowdy said, gesturing to his friend. “This is my good buddy Skylar.”
Good buddy? What did that even mean?
“So,” Skylar said, assessing me. “This is the famous Kessler.”
Rowdy elbowed him, and I produced a laugh. “Famous? You’ve been talking about me?”
Rowdy rolled his eyes. “Don’t get a big head about it. I was just telling him about the killer house party you threw,” he said.
Mention of the housewarming took me back to that night. To my room. To the urgency in the way he’d clung to me.
Seriously, Kess. Don’t. Kiss. Him.
Based on Skylar’s expression, I guessed Rowdy had told him what we’d done. My cheeks went hot, but I quickly neutralized my face.
“That was a good time.” Turning to Skylar, I teased, “Though your buddy here was two hours late.”
Skylar clucked his tongue. “For shame, Rowdy. For shame.”
“I guess it’s too much to ask for Rowdy to give up his sexcapades in favor of a humble housewarming party,” I joked, and Skylar frowned.
