Hoping my discomfort isn’t palpable, I respond with a smile. “Thanks, Norinne. He has Ryder tonight.”
“Well, lemme see the ring, girl!” she insists, leaning forward to get a peek at my hand. Well, crap.
Frankie, bless her soul, comes to my rescue. “The ring was shit, so Skye and I told him to take it back, but he just couldn’t wait to pop the question.”
Skye’s smile is painful at best. “Yeah. He’s never bought jewelry before, so he was flying blind.”
“I can’t believe y’all knew he was proposing and didn’t tell me!” Norinne buys it, hook, line, and sinker.
Skye repeats her lip-lock gesture, and I force a smile at Norinne, to which she flutters her eyelashes and says, “Damn, do I love a good happy ending.” Everyone mutters lukewarm sounds of agreement. Then we order another round and wait for Norinne to leave before we all lean in again.
Frankie harrumphs, her jet-black hair falling forward as she drops her chin. “This sucks. I was looking forward to having you as a sister-in-law, Shelbs.”
I grin at her because who wouldn’t get the warm fuzzies from a comment like that, but Skye is the one to respond. “Our brother doesn’t have a romantic bone in his body, Frankie. His idea of wooing a woman is springing for a Hershey bar with his box of condoms at the drugstore checkout.”
“Good lord, Skye.” Josie Mae snort-laughs. But I notice nobody tries to correct Skye.
“Speaking of condom-buying hound dogs…” Frankie trails off, and we all turn to where she’s looking.
Sure enough, Dallas stands across the way, leaning against the bar like it was constructed solely for the very purpose of supporting his fine self. He’s wearing a western snap-up shirt and the same jeans as earlier, his feet covered by his favorite scuffed boots. His eyes are glued on me like cat hair to a black dress.
Shit. Why did my heart just jump? I can’t even begin to count the number of times he and I have met up at this exact bar. His lips curve in a knowing smile like he just read my damn mind, and the man proceeds to raise his beer bottle in a pseudo toast to me.
“Daaaaamn. Somebody isnotmessing around,” Jo drawls.
I turn my back to Dallas to face my friends again. I can’t have them thinking his presence is affecting me in any way. Forcing a laugh, I bring my beer bottle to my lips for a fortifying gulp.
“Hey, Dallas!” Frankie chirps a few seconds later, causing me to choke on my drink. I sputter, drawing Skye’s watchful eye. Dammit.
“If you’re here, where’s Ryder?” Skye asks, giving me a moment to get my shit together.
“He’s with Pops.”
I finally turn in my stool with what I hope is a believable smile. It falters when I realize every pair of eyes in the whole damn place is trained on us.
Sensing my panic, Dallas leans in real slow, setting his beer on the table and planting a soft kiss on my cheek. “I got this. Don’t worry,” he whispers in my ear. His breath tickles, causing goose bumps to rise on both of my arms.
Charlene Russell sidles up to the table, Norinne right on her heels. Those two are rarely seen apart, especially when there’s new gossip to be found. Not to be rude, but doesn’t Norinne have an entire bar full of patrons to wait on?
“Now that I’m off the clock, I can focus,” Charlene says with a ravenous grin. Oh, yikes.
Dallas drapes a casual arm over my shoulders and greets both women. “How are you fine ladies doin’ tonight?”
“I’ll be better once I hear how you proposed,” Charlene volleys back, her wide-eyed gaze shifting to me. “Was it everything you ever thought it would be, Shelby?” Before either one of us can respond, she barks, “Oh! The ring!” causing everyone at our table and beyond to startle in our seats. “I forgot to look at the ring!”
Unaffected, Norinne leans into her bestie with a stage whisper. “Ix-nay on the ing-ray, Char. He screwed the pooch and bought a clunker.” Charlene gasps, and Dallas stiffens beside me. Oops. Well, I guess that’s what you get when you spin a web of lies, Mr. Gatsby.
I pat the hand resting on my shoulder. “Hey, a guy can’t be good ateverything, right? He makes up for it elsewhere.” I immediately curse myself when Charlene and Norinne’s mouths curve in identical knowing grins. It does have the desired effect, though, as Dallas’s frame relaxes again.
“I’m taking care of it,” he improvises.
“Well?” Charlene demands, clearly moving past the ring and onto the proposal story. Her expression reminds me of Augustus Gloop from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, although Charlene has much better hair.
“Yes, do tell,” Skye adds with a smirk at Dallas as she props her chin on her hand. These Gambles are all a bunch of shit stirrers. I glare at her and start to panic, but I needn’t bother.
“Well, ladies, I’ll tell you,” Dallas begins, causing Charlene to teeter forward on her high-heeled sandals. “I thought to myself, ‘What would be Shelby’s dream proposal?’ It took a bit, but then inspiration just struck.” He snaps his fingers, and a riveted Charlene flinches but never loses focus.
“Oh, I can’t wait to hear this,” she croons.
