"Sorry, but—Winnie, you look amazing."
I felt my cheeks heat. "It’s just a dress."
"It’s not just a dress. You look—" He seemed to struggle for words, his gaze sweeping over me in a way that made my skin prickle. "Really beautiful."
"Don't get used to it. I'm back in work clothes tomorrow."
"Noted. But for tonight? I’m definitely appreciating the view."
Pops chuckled, turning a page. "You two kids have fun. Don't stay out too late—we still got work in the mornin', and the cows don't care about hangovers."
"Yes, sir," Beau said, and it was funny how natural that sounded coming from him now.
We headed out to my truck. I tried not to notice how he held the door open for me or how good he smelled—cedar and something clean, simpler than the designer cologne he'd arrived with.
"So what exactly happens at trivia night?" he asked as I started the engine.
"Trivia. Obviously. But it’s bloodsport." I pulled out onto the main road, gravel crunching. "Cassie and I usually dominate, except when we go up against the Henderson brothers—they run the feed supply in Fairfax and they’re weirdly good at sports trivia and geography."
"Sounds intense."
"It is. There's prizes for winning, drinks are cheap, and everyone gets drunk and makes bad decisions. It's peak small-town entertainment."
"Wait till you're three beers in and arguing about whether a tomato is a fruit or a vegetable with a guy who hasn't left the county since 1998."
"It’s a fruit," Beau said.
"See? You're gonna fit right in."
The Rusty Spur was already packed when we got there—trucks filling the parking lot, music pouring out every time the door opened, that particular, electric energy that came from people ready to blow off steam.
Cassie was waiting outside, leaning against the brick building in cutoff shorts and heels that had no business being in Oklahoma but looked incredible anyway. She lit up when she saw us.
"There's my girl!" She pulled me into a hug that smelled like tequila. "And looking fine as hell too! I feel so validated." She turned to Beau, a slow grin spreading across her face. "Well, well. City boy cleans up nice. You actually look like you belong here. Almost."
"Thanks?" He seemed unsure.
"It’s a compliment. Trust me." She linked her arm through mine, dragging me toward the door. "Alright, team, let's go destroy some trivia and get drunk. Not necessarily in that order."
Inside, the Rusty Spur was exactly what you'd expect—wooden everything, neon signs buzzing, a jukebox playing Luke Combs. The air was thick with the smell of fried food and sawdust.
And everyone turned to look when we walked in.
"Jesus," Beau muttered beside me, adjusting his hat.
"Told you. You're famous now." I waved at a few people I knew. "Just smile and try not to look terrified. They can smell fear."
Cassie dragged us to a high-top table near the trivia setup and immediately flagged down Donna.
"Three shots of tequila and a round of Coors!"
"Tequila?" Beau looked alarmed. "Already? It’s 7:05."
"It’s trivia night, Sterling. We don't fuck around." Cassie grinned at him, sharp and challenging. "Unless you can't handle it?"
"I can handle it," he said, that competitive gleam sparking in his eye.
Donna set down our drinks with a smile. "Hey, Winnie. Cassie. And Beau! Good to see you again, honey."
