“Dewey’s.”
“Yes! Let’s go there tomorrow night. Will Seth be alright with that or do you have plans?”
“We don’t have plans that I know of. If we do, I’ll let you know. If not, I’ll meet you there around eight.”
“Perfect. Where else to find the perfect muse for a cowboy than in a cowboy bar?”
“True. Talk soon. Love you.
“Love you too.”
Skylar stared at the document and hit delete. She knew she’d have to start over, so she’d go with a clean sheet.
Saturday night, Skylar perched on a stool at the bar, the low hum of conversation and the clink of ice rattling in glasses all around her. She shifted uncomfortably, trying to tune out the cowboy behind her, his deep voice weaving pickup lines through the pulsing country track on the jukebox while the band was on break. He’d been working his way into her peripheral vision since she’d arrived to wait for Ryan. When her friend finally slidonto the stool beside her, they flagged down the bartender and ordered drinks.
“So, have you found your muse yet?” Ryan teased, brushing the condensation from her glass as Skylar lifted her whiskey sour to her lips. The tangy aroma of lemon zinged beneath the bar’s warm, amber glow.
Skylar laughed. “You love asking me that.”
“Well, I’m trying to help you keep up with this, ‘I’m not looking for a real man, just my muse’ bullshit you say all the time.”
“I’m an author. I have to research,” Skylar said, shrugging.
“Yeah, okay. So, have you found him?”
“Not yet.” Skylar shook her head, eyes scanning the room as she took a careful sip. Then her gaze fixed on the cowboy. “Oh, my. Yes, I have.”
Ryan arched her eyebrow. “Which is it? You have or haven’t?”
Skylar set her glass down and leaned forward. “I hadn’t, until right this second.”
“Where?”
She tilted her head toward the front of the bar. “He’s standing at the bar, black cowboy hat pulled low, red T-shirt stretched over broad shoulders, and good Lord, those arms. He has his elbows braced on the bar as though he’s hunting for a bartender.”
“Oh, I see him. Damn.” Ryan’s eyes lit up.
“Exactly.” Skylar grinned back.
“The woman on the stool beside him can’t take her eyes off him.”
“I can’t either,” Skylar confessed with a laugh. “She’s actually talking to him.”
Skylar watched the slim brunette lean in close; words lost in the bar’s din. The cowboy’s face turned toward her, and Skylar felt her pulse quicken when he let his weight settle on one elbow,fully concentrating on the woman’s face. No scanning the crowd, no bored glances, just him, fully focused on her.
“Now, that man knows how to make a woman feel like she’s the only person in a crowded room,” Skylar whispered, voice low. “See how he’s holding her gaze? She has his full attention. I wish I could see his eyes better. His hat casts a shadow, but that square jaw, wow.”
“I love scruff,” Ryan sighed, tracing the rim of her glass.
“Me too.” Skylar’s gaze sharpened. “And his hair’s dark. I want to know what color those eyes are.”
A bartender appeared, sliding a frosty mug of beer toward the cowboy. When he grinned at the woman, Skylar almost toppled off her stool.
“He has a gorgeous grin,” Ryan murmured, eyes dreamy. “Like Seth’s.”
“Yes,” Skylar agreed, voice soft. “Seth’s smile is beautiful.” She watched as the cowboy paid and motioned for the bartender to pour another amber brew, this one clearly for the woman. “Someone might get lucky tonight.”
“Too bad it’s not you,” Ryan said with a playful shove.
