Page 22 of Buck ’Em Cowgirl

“I’ll have an espresso martini,” I told the bartender, who nodded at us and turned to work on the drinks.

I pulled out my phone and fired a text to Harleigh to let her know I was safe.

A second later, he grabbed the small menu tucked behind the bar and scanned it briefly. “I’m starving,” he declared. The bartender turned back around, and without waiting for my input, he added, “And we’ll take the chips and dip.”

He was so damn sure of himself, it was hard to argue because I looked up to that kind of confidence, just knowing what you wanted and taking it.

The bartender returned with his beer and handed me a glass. I picked it up and took a sip. It was rich, smooth, with the right balance of bitter and sweet. As I set the glass down, I froze momentarily. I’d drunk from an open glass. No hesitation, no urge to sanitize my hands or overthink. I let the thought settle, surprised at the strange sense of calm that followed.

“So, Chicago girl,” Beau said, interrupting my thoughts, “what do you do?”

I laughed lightly, brushing a strand of hair out of my face. “I’m a project marketing manager at Bucking Energy.”

His brows lifted, and a crooked grin spread across his face. “Oh shit, our sponsor, then.”

“Yeah. My best friend and I pitched the project to the company. Her dad, Roger Harris, used to work as a⁠—”

“No shit,” Beau cut in, nodding. “I haven’t heard Roger’s name in a minute.”

“Harleigh told me she lived near you.”

“She’s younger than me, but yeah, we grew up in the same area.”

I leaned back slightly. “What a small world.”

“I hadn’t realized she moved up here. I would’ve come up and said hi if I knew they were around.” He sat back in his seat and took a sip of his beer. “Tell me something else, Cowgirl.”

The bartender returned with the chips, and my stomach twisted the second the smell hit me. Skipping food at the event had left me starving.

Beau slid the basket closer, nudging it toward me.

“I’m fine,” I said automatically, even as my stomach betrayed me with a loud little growl.

Beau’s brows lifted. “Come on. I can hear your stomach from here.”

“Hey,” I laughed, swatting his arm like that would shut him up.

He only chuckled, grabbed a chip, and dipped it into the creamy dip before holding it out in front of me. Patient and annoyingly confident.

“Eat,” he said. Then, like he hadn’t just caught me red-handed, he leaned back in his seat. “And don’t dodge my question. Tell me something else, Cowgirl.”

I swallowed and grabbed the chip. “I recently came out of a serious relationship.”

Recently? Pff. That was putting it lightly, but that was a small fact I didn’t need to share.

“He was an idiot for fumbling someone as beautiful as you.”

I froze, staring at him before bursting into laughter so hard that parts of the chip I was chewing flew out of my mouth.

“Oh my . . .” I gasped between laughs. “I am so sorry.”

He laughed too, shaking his head as he grabbed a napkin and handed it to me.

“Thanks,” I mumbled, dabbing at my lips. “But I’m not beautiful. I’m . . . weird.”

Beau didn’t say a word. Instead, he reached out and grabbed the edge of my stool, dragging it toward him with enough force that I was suddenly caught between his thighs. My breath hitched, and the chip in my hand slipped.

He didn’t stop there. His gaze locked onto mine, and his mustache twitched slightly with the faintest smirk. Slowly, he ran a hand through his hair before reaching out and brushing his thumb along my cheek. His touch was warm, rough, and it sent a jolt straight through me.