I crossed the dance floor and stepped directly into his path.
He pulled up short and broke into a wide grin when he saw me.
“Well, hey there, Shelly-Rae,” his voice full of easy swagger as he lifted the cowboy hat off his own head and settled it onto mine, tilting it just slightly.
Then he caught my hand and spun me once, pulling me into a loose two-step shuffle to the song that had just started up, his hand firm on my waist and his chest close enough that I could feel the heat of him. “You come to dance with me, darlin’?”
“I came totalkto you,” I said.
“Mm-hmm.” He was already glancing past my shoulder. “I see that bossy look on your face. You’re about to tell me how wrong I am for having a little fun tonight.” Then he leaned in and whispered in my ear, cupping my shoulder while he did it. “But life’s all about fun. If you take that away, what’s left?”
Then he winked at me. “You can give me your speech tomorrow. Right now, I’ve got some business to attend to.”
He stepped away and started heading over to Pink Shirt.
Any normal Friday night, I would have just stuffed my feelings deeper inside and moved on to chat with one of my other friends.
But the yearning that had been sitting quietly inside me for years simply refused to stay silent any longer.
“Amos.”
He turned back, still smiling.
“Why haven’t you ever takenmehome?” My voice came out sharp, my eyes flashing.
His smile didn’t disappear exactly, but it dimmed, the energy between us changing in an instant.
The bar buzzed on, oblivious to the landmine I’d just dropped at his feet.
I wanted to take it back.
Or laugh it off.
But his eyes were holding mine with a look I’d never seen on his face before, a guarded expression underneath all that easy charm.
More importantly, he wasn’t looking at Pink Shirt anymore. He was looking atme.
Chapter 2
Amos
“What did you just say?”
The words came out of my mouth, but my brain was three seconds behind, trying to catch up to what Shelly had just asked me.
The din of the Bear Den kept going on around us. Somebody fed the jukebox, and a new song kicked up, one with a heavy boot-stomping beat.
Nolan and Cedar erupted in laughter when someone sank a shot at the pool table.
The whole bar was alive, buzzing with Friday night energy.
But suddenly none of it registered, because every single cell in my body had just locked onto Shelly Anderson.
My cock went hard so fast it nearly knocked the sense clean out of me.
I tried to laugh. I could hear myself doing it, a short, deflecting sound that I used when I needed to buy a second to think.
“Shelly,” I said her name like it explained everything. “You know you’re not just some woman at the bar to me.”
