For the last couple of years, whenever Macey decides our once-a-year “thing” is on, she wears a hot little pink top with Texas Y’all written across the chest. Her breasts pop out the T and the Y in a way that makes my jeans uncomfortable, and the way the thin fabric clings to the soft skin I know is underneath—double turn-on.
“Texas Y’all,” I say with a grin. “Good way to advertise our home state to any tourists.”
I slide out from between her legs, already missing her heat. As I hop up onto the fence beside her, I tip my head toward The Cowherd. “I need a cold beer and some A/C. Can you help a cowboy out?”
She jumps off the fence first. “Right this way, sir.”
Leaving my brothers and cousins behind, I walk side by side with Macey to her family’s bar. I hold the door open for her as we step inside.
“So.” I slide onto a stool, lay my cowboy hat on the empty stool next to me, and reach over the bar for an empty beer mug. “What’s shaking?”
Macey hurries behind the bar to grab the mug out of my hand. She brings the mug underneath the tap and fills it up. When she slides the full mug of beer toward me, I nod my thanks and bring the frosted glass to my lips.
Macey’s whiskey eyes turn liquid with heat as we lock gazes. Her lips part, and she inhales sharply.
I lower my beer mug to the counter.
And then, I lean in slowly, making sure I can read her signals.
She takes the tiniest step back. So tiny almost anyone else would’ve missed it.
But not me.
I’ve spent my life memorizing everything about this woman. And today, she’s hesitant. She wants the same thing I do, but something’s got her pulling back.
“Everything all right?” I ask her.
“Sure.” She averts her gaze and goes to wipe down the bartop.
I catch her wrist so she stops her movement. She raises her eyes, those thick dark lashes half-hiding the tormented look in her gaze.
“Hey.” I run my thumb along the inside of her wrist, the one with the scar, and she shivers. “Don’t hide from me, Mace. What’s up? Maybe I misread your signals, but you looked like you wanted to…”
She bites her lip hard and then releases it. “I did. I do.”
“Well…” I let go of her wrist and hold out both of my arms. “I’m here. Ready and willing.”
“Logan.” She lowers her voice to a whisper even though there’s nobody around.
“What is it?” I ask in concern.
She leans her elbows on the bar counter so she can get closer to me. Once our noses are nearly touching, she says in a conspiratorial whisper, “I’m assuming you heard about the Wild Darcy Derby your daddy agreed to host this weekend.”
“My dad said something about sectioning off part of the ranch on Saturday.” I shrug. “We were grappling with a steer at the time, so I didn’t hear much of what he said.”
“It’s a big nightmare.” She frowns. “All the cowboys in town will be in the race, and meanwhile, I’ll be in Elizabeth Bennet attire, dressed up like I’m from freaking 1812 England. My parents want to pair the riders with partners for dinner and drinks at The Cowherd.” She pauses and gives me a look I can’t quite decipher. “Including me.”
I wave my beer in the air. “Relax. It’s just one dinner. And you’ll be sitting right here in this room. It’s not exactly a romantic atmosphere. Plus, if the guy tries anything, just remind him you’re the target champion of Hunt County.”
“You’re riding, right?”
I shake my head. “Have fun with that. No way in hell I’m signing up. I’ll set the course, and then I’m out.”
Macey swallows. “Logan.”
Her cheeks flush as she gazes at me intently.
I narrow my eyes. “What. Is. Going On?”
