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Poppy snorts a laugh. “Linc isn’t interested in Calla, anyway. She’s tried.” Poppy’s finger glides around the rim of her drink, then she licks the salt off it. “Lots of ladies in town have attempted to turn his head. But you’re the only one who’s gotten his attention in a long time.”

My eyes widen, relishing in the knowledge that I infiltrated the stone wall around his heart.

“Not to make it weird,” Blair says, leaning in. “But your brother is delicious. He’s a hard worker, and he’s obviously great with his nephew…so, why hasn’t he settled down?”

“No worries, I have to listen to the single moms talk about him at Tripp’s school events. I’m great at compartmentalizing.” She takes a delicate sip of her marg. “In my humble opinion, it’s a few things. One being, this is a nosy small town, and he’s a very private person.” Poppy sighs, her eyes looking distant, like she’s remembering back. “Then when our parents died so unexpectedly, and instead of grieving, he started working himself to the bone. I think work keeps his mind too busy to dwell on their death.”

Blair hums, nodding her head as she listens. I’m also paying close attention, waiting for any new details about the man who occupies all my thoughts lately.

“And this way, nothing—or no one—can hurt him.”

“Wow,” Blair whispers. “You’re better than my therapist. Do me next!”

Poppy chuckles. “I’m no psychologist, but I’m a pretty good listener.”

I’m barely listening to their banter as my chest tightens at Poppy’s observations. Lincoln guards his heart carefully, but he let that guard down for me…and I’m leaving.

In a few short weeks, my heart decided Montana was home. But I can’t just up and move my entire life here with the snap of my fingers. I have to go back to California; I need to deal with my mother; I have a trainer waiting to hear my plan for next year…I have a life, an income to maintain.

Poppy pulls me into a side hug, interrupting my thoughts. “Hey now, don’t look so sad. No matter what happens between you and Lincoln, he’ll be okay. And so will you. If anything, you showed him it’s okay to open his heart.”

Blair reaches across the table and rests her hand on top of mine. “And who knows, maybe you’ll end up back here in Montana once you figure things out.”

I blow out a breath, grabbing my drink, and taking a long sip. “Okay, this is girls’ night. No more depressing conversation.”

“Are you kidding?” Blair scoffs. “Girl’s nights were designed for trauma dumping and depressing conversations.”

Poppy nods, releasing me and easing back against the booth seat. Her eyes land on someone behind me and her face takes on a pretty shade of pink. I whirl around to see who’s making her blush, only to find Lincoln and his friends standing there. I study Owen and Jackson, wondering which one Poppy has a thing for. They’re both incredibly handsome; Owen in a rugged way that makes you think he could fix your car if it broke down, and Jackson in a completely different way, with his intelligent eyes and stoic expression.

My eyes move to Lincoln, drinking in his signature Wranglers and cowboy boots. A black henley molds against his arms and torso, giving me the sudden urge to ditch the girls and find a dark corner somewhere.

Lincoln slides into the half-circle booth beside me, while Owen scoots in beside Blair with Jackson next to him.

Blair studies Lincoln with one arched eyebrow. “We almost had to keep our girl here from committing voluntary manslaughter.”

Lincoln’s brow furrows.

“I’ve never seen her quite so territorial,” Blair continues.

I shoot her a sharp look, demanding she shut up.

Lincoln turns to look at me, a smirk tugging at one corner of his lips while the other corner stays serious.

“Were you jealous, Princess?” His eyes drop to my lips, then to my bare shoulders, and the dress that clings to my body.

I’m pretty sure he’s having the same thought about finding a dark corner and ditching our friends. But neither of us would do that. The anticipation is half the fun.

“What are you doing here?” I ask instead of answering his question. “You didn’t mention you’d be here.”

His large hand finds my thigh under the table, and he rests it there. “Owen and Jackson invited me out.” He leans in close, so close his beard brushes the shell of my ear. “But now all I want to do is drag you back to the guest cabin.” His whispered words make my tummy swirl with a thirst that no margarita can satisfy.

Blair clears her throat a little too loudly. “I’m Blair, by the way. Hattie’s best friend who traveled all the way from California to be ignored in favor of a burly cowboy.”

Owen and Jackson chuckle, then introduce themselves to her.

“Sorry,” I tell our group. “I got distracted. Blair surprised me today, and she’s staying for Hoedown.”

Owen leans back, angling his body toward her. His body language is easy to read; he’s interested. He’s a handsome guy, and very charming. I have an inkling grabbing a woman’s attention is usually easy for him. One smile and they probably fall into his arms…but Blair isn’t just any woman.