Her eyes widen as she glances at the notification. "Well, well... looks like someone's timing is perfect." She slides the phone back across the table with a knowing smirk, not reading the message but clearly having seen the sender's name. "Might want to check that."
Still thinking about that moment in the barn. Hope you're having a good night, Sunshine. - B
My heart does something stupid and fluttery. I can practically feel his hands on my waist again, hear the way he'd breathed my name like it was something sacred.
"Oh. My. God." Emma's voice is pure delight. "I know that face. That's a 'someone's making me tingle' face."
"It 's nothing." I flip the phone facedown, but Emma's already seen enough.
"Like hell it's nothing. You're glowing brighter than a neon sign, and I definitely saw 'Beau' before you went all secretive." She claps her hands together. "Our mysterious rancher is texting you sweet nothings? Girl, this is better than winning the church raffle."
"Emma, Iswear—"
"Don't even try to deny it. This is the most excitement we've had since Pastor Williams got caught skinny-dipping in Miller's pond."
She leans across the table, eyes sparkling with mischief. "Come on, what did he say? Is it dirty? Please tell me it's at least a little dirty."
My face burns. "We're not having this conversation."
"Fine, be mysterious. But for the record?" She fans herself dramatically. "I'd let that man rope me like a prize heifer any day of the week."
"Emma!"
"What? I'm married, not dead. And someone's got to keep track of this town's eligible bachelors. It's practically a public service." She fans herself with a napkin.
Her grin turns absolutely wicked. "And speaking of public servants... Sheriff. Gabriel. Maddox."
She draws out his name like it's coated in honey. "Now there's a man who could read me my rights any time he wants. And, you have that man already chasing you… literally!"
Something sharp and possessive flares in my chest. "He's very... professional."
"Professional?" Emma lets out a laugh that turns heads three tables over.
"Honey, that man is a walking sin wrapped up in a badge and good intentions. You should see him come hay season when he helps out at the ranches. Rolls up those sleeves, loses the uniform..."
She trails off, fanning herself again. "Half the wives in this county suddenly develop urgent needs for extra hands during harvest."
The image of Gabriel working shirtless under the Montana sun, muscles rippling as he hefts hay bales like they weigh nothing, sends heat shooting straight through me. I press my thighs together and reach for my Coke.
"Holy hell, you're gone for him too!" Emma practically shrieks with delight. "Look at you! First our mysterious rancher, now our brooding sheriff. Please, for the love of all that's holy, tell me you've noticed my brother's tragic appeal so I can collect on the betting pool."
"There's a betting pool.. on what…?"
"Sugar, this is Briarhaven. We'd bet on which way the wind blows if it was interesting enough." She grins like the cat who caught the canary.
"But three of this town's most eligible bachelors circling you like you're the last slice of pie at a church social? That's unprecedented."
"Let's dance before I die of embarrassment!" I grab her hand and practically drag her toward the dance floor, desperate to escape before she digs up any more truths I'm not ready to face.
The dance floor throbs with bodies and bass, couples pressed close and groups of friends laughing over the music. Emma keeps up for exactly two songs before begging off, claiming her nursing boobs can't handle the bouncing.
I stay out there, letting Garth Brooks drown out my racing thoughts. Eyes closed, hips swaying to the rhythm, I can almost pretend I'm just another girl blowing off steam on a Friday night.
That's when hands grab my waist from behind.
"Hey there, beautiful." Beer breath hot and sour against my neck. "How 'bout a dance?"
I try to step away, but his grip tightens, fingers digging into my hips. "No thanks. I'm good."
