Brody laid his cards on the table. “Y’all got me. I’m out.”
“Can’t believe a Dawson has a bad luck streak,” Paul said.
“We’re playin’ poker, not talkin’ women, remember?” Jace teased.
Brody punched him on the arm. “You’re as much an old woman as these two are.”
Fred laid out a full house and raked in the quarters. “I’ll have enough to buy a hamburger at the Happy Café if my luck holds out.”
A vision of Lila in those tight jeans flashed through Brody’s mind and he bit back a groan.
Lila hadn’t awakened that Saturday morning with dancing on her mind, but when the café closed, she’d turned on the radio and danced through the top five country songs with the mop as a partner. She hadn’t been out to an old country bar in years but the music brought back memories of the time when she and Brody managed to get into the Silver Spur with fake IDs. They’d drank beer and danced until thirty minutes before curfew, then drove like bats set loose from Hades to get home in time.
She was dressed in skinny jeans, boots, and a sleeveless Western shirt after she’d applied makeup and curled her hair. She’d worked hard for the past years to subdue that wild inner child, but tonight she was turning it loose and letting it come out to play. She listened to a Blake Shelton CD on the way to the Silver Spur and wiggled her shoulders to the beat. The words to his song would be her theme song for the night. She’d leave when the place shut down or when they ran completely out of cold beer.
The parking lot was pretty full when she arrived. That meant that she would have plenty of guys to dance with. Lila held her breath as she walked through the fog of cigarette smoke and ignored the whistles of several cowboys who’d already drank too much. She had her money out to pay the cover charge but the bouncer waved her on in.
“Ladies’ night every first Saturday. Free cover charge and beers are two dollars until ten o’clock. Enjoy,” he said.
“Thank you.” She shoved the money back into her small purse and went straight toward the bar.
The dance floor was full of line dancers and the sound of their boots hitting the wooden floor was music to her ears. She hiked a hip on a bar stool and ordered a beer.
A tall, blond cowboy with pretty blue eyes claimed the place beside her within seconds. “How about I buy you a drink? I’m Rick, short for Derrick, and you’re Angel, right?”
“No, I’m Lila, short for Delilah, which is about as far from Angel as you can get. But that’s a pretty good pickup line, Rick,” she answered. “I’ve already got a drink ordered but thank you.”
The line dancers made a beeline for the bar as the next song started. When the first guitar strands of “If You’re Gonna Play in Texas” began, Rick held out his hand and she put hers in it. He led her to the middle of the floor and wrapped his arms around her. She was grateful that they were the same height and his nose wasn’t resting between her breasts. He was smooth on the dance floor and dancing with him was fun.
The band’s singer stepped up to the mic. “We have a request for ‘Sideways’ by Darryl Worley. This isn’t the Rendezvous Club like he sings about but it’s definitely time to get a little sideways in the Silver Spur for most of you folks and there’s plenty of fiddle in this one.”
The blond cowboy was pretty smooth on his feet and Lila was enjoying the dance until a petite redhead tapped her on the shoulder. “Mind if I have a turn at this cowboy?”
Lila stepped back and someone grabbed her hand, spun her around in a swing dance, and then brought her back to his chest. Her heart knocked against her chest so hard that she thought it would fly out of her chest when she looked into those cerulean blue Dawson eyes.
“Brody?” Of course it was Brody. No one else created such turmoil in her body, soul, and mind.
“Lila.” He smiled.
“I thought you were too busy for a night out or maybe I should say two nights since you played poker with Fred and Paul last night. I sure didn’t expect to see you here tonight.”
“How’d you know that I was at Fred’s playin’ poker?” he asked.
“Rumors are nourished and fed at the café.” She grinned. “Paul and Fred came in for their usual afternoon snack and gossip session. I don’t know how they get anything done on their ranches.”
“They’ve each got a good foreman and lots of hired help. And I probably shouldn’t take two nights off in a row but I heard that you might be here tonight.”
“Oh, really?” She raised both dark brows.
“The café isn’t the only place that gossip flourishes.” He smiled. “Molly was fussin’ about you and it got back to Kasey.”
She should walk away and not look back but she was enjoying being close to him too much to do that. “I don’t imagine your granny and your mama will appreciate that,” she finally said.
“Right now I’m not real concerned about what anybody thinks.” He drew her closer and buried his face in her hair.
Every nerve in her body was aware that she was in his arms and all her hormones kicked into double time, begging her to drag him out to the truck and fog the windows. When the song ended, another line dance started. He kept her hand in his and led her back to the bar, where they claimed the last couple of stools at the very end. He held up two fingers and pointed to the Coors bottle the guy beside him held. The bartender nodded and brought two ice-cold longnecks to them.
“Talk to me,” he said.
“About?”
“You. Why didn’t you call me after you moved?” he said.
“My heart was shattered, Brody. Why did you stand me up that night?” She couldn’t tell him that she’d called the ranch but when his mother answered, she’d hung up.
“I didn’t want to see you cry again, so when the guys asked me to go with them, I went. And...” He paused, leaving a big empty space hanging over their heads.
“You didn’t want to be seen in public with me without a crowd around us, right?”
He nodded. “I’m sorry. I wish I could go back and redo that night, Lila. But there was another reason.”
“And that is?”
“I didn’t want you to see me cry,” he said. “I really do wish I could get a redo.”
“Sometimes it’s too late to do what you should have been doing all along, Brody.”
It had taken a lot of therapy for her to realize that Brody had been a complete jerk. That the way he treated her wasn’t her fault and that she had been worthy of a decent relationship even if they were just teenagers.
“I tried to sweet-talk a phone number out of Molly and Georgia both. I still can’t believe that she retired and moved so far away. She and Molly were an institution at the café. I knew they’d have some way to get in touch with your mom but they wouldn’t budge. Then I sent a letter to you, thinking they would forward it to your new address but it came back stamped with ‘refused’ in big red letters.”
“Mama was tired of watching me get hurt. She knew we’d been sneaking around and that I was…that I’d had a big crush on you for years.” She couldn’t make herself say that she’d been in love with him. “Then when you finally asked me out for real, you stood me up. If a letter had come, she would have burned it.” She lowered her voice. “And your folks thought I was a bad influence on you and everyone else. I just wanted you to like me, Brody, but that ship has sailed and I burned the bridge between me and you. It’s too late for us.”
“Then we’ll have to build a new ship and a new bridge.” He ran a rough hand down her cheekbone. “You’re still as beautiful as I remember and it’s never too late.” He parroted Fred’s words from the night before. Or was it Paul who’d said that? Either way, it was good advice.
Sitting so close that his arm grazed hers when he took a drink of his beer, looking like sex on a stick, smelling exactly like that white cat in Henry’s barn—the wild child inside her wanted to come out and play so badly. But she wasn’t that girl who’d fall all over herself for a little attention
from Brody Dawson. When she’d started college at Penn State, she’d become the girl who studied hard, got good grades, and graduated with honors. According to her therapist, she’d been out to show everyone that she’d amount to something.
Brody opened his mouth to say something but a young woman who was probably right out of high school pushed her way between them and motioned toward the bartender. Evidently he knew what she drank because he grabbed two mugs and began to fill them with beer. While she waited, she turned her face toward Brody and flashed a brilliant smile. “Hey, there. Want to dance?”
“Not tonight. I’m with this lady right here.”
“This old gal”—she eyed Lila up and down—“is way below your league.”
“No, thanks,” he said. “And don’t talk about my…my…”
“Your mother?” the woman giggled.
Lila would bet that her ID was fake and she wasn’t a day over eighteen. The joke about her age wasn’t what lit a fire under her anger—it was that nasty little remark about her being way below his league.
“I’m not his mother, darlin’,” Lila said.
“Sister, mother, friend, neighbor. It don’t matter.” She worked a quarter from her skintight jeans and laid it on the counter in front of Lila. “Here you go. Go call the senior citizens’ van to take you home.”
“What did you just say to me?” Lila’s temper flared as she tucked a leg behind the woman’s knee and gave a slight kick. The girl crumpled to the floor in a heap.
“You bitch,” she said as she tried to regain her footing.
Lila hopped off the stool and pulled her up. Then she leaned in close to her ear and whispered, “If you want to play with the big dogs, you’d best get your rabies shots.”
“I was just teasin’ and havin’ a little fun. My friends dared me to get him to dance with me,” she whimpered.
“Be careful who you insult next time you want to have a little fun,” Lila said.
“God, I’ve missed you,” Brody laughed as the girl limped away. “She thought she was tough.”
“She’s just a kid out with her friends.” Lila could remember acting just like that more than once, but it hadn’t been her girlfriends she’d wanted to impress—it’d been Brody Dawson.
“I guess we’ve all been young and stupid. Did you ever think about all the good times we had before you moved away? Want another beer?”
She shook her head and put a hand over the top of the beer so the bartender could see. “Sure I thought of you. I taught in a high school in Memphis where I was the junior class sponsor. That meant I had to attend the prom as a chaperone. I thought of you that night and how handsome you looked in your tux when you escorted Gloria Tanner into the room. Hmmm.” She tapped her chin with a finger.
“I told you back then that I wanted to take you but…,” Brody stammered.
“It’s water under that bridge that I burned down.” She slung her purse over her shoulder and slid off the bar stool.
“Don’t go. I’m sorry, Lila, for everything,” Brody said.
“When I come back home, I’m still the wild child and you’re Brody Dawson, the most popular cowboy in Happy, Texas,” she said. “You were the quarterback of the football team, the high-point shooter in all the basketball games, class president, and voted most likely to succeed. If they’d had a tough cowboy title, you would have won it too.”
“We are the cowboys,” he reminded her. “Do you remember everything about everyone?”
“Of course. I remember dancing with you one time right here when we snuck in with fake IDs. You didn’t mind holding me close in a bar but you wouldn’t even sit with me in church. What does that tell you?” She wanted to dance with him again so badly that she could feel his arms around her, but wild horses or a Texas tornado couldn’t drag her back out onto the floor.
“Stay until I finish my beer and I’ll walk you out to your truck. I’m about ready to call it a night too. Just five more minutes, please?”
She fought with herself for a moment before she sat back down on the stool.
“So you’re a teacher now?” he said.
“Yup. High school English.”
He took a long draw from the bottle. “Where do you teach?”
“Taught in Memphis and, believe me, in the neighborhood where I taught, the fourteen-year-old girls were as tough as nails. Then I taught in an inner-city school in Little Rock that was even rougher and the past two years I’ve been in an upscale place in Panama City, Florida.”
“I can’t imagine you in a classroom,” he said.
“Where did you imagine I’d be in twelve years? Living in a run-down trailer park with six or seven kids and a drunk for a husband?”
“No, you were too smart for that. I just figured you’d be a lawyer or maybe the mayor of Philadelphia or something really big and important. Not that a teacher isn’t a fine job. So you never got married, right?”
“Your beer is done. To answer the question, though—I told you in the café I wasn’t married.”
“Yes, you did but that’s not what I’m askin’. You aren’t married now but have you been at some time?”
She shook her head. “My therapist says I have commitment issues.”
It was the truth and Brody was the one who’d caused those issues.
“You?” she asked.
“Nope, my sister says the same thing about me and commitment. She’s probably right.”
Lila slid off the stool. “How’s Kasey? Adam’s death must have hit her hard.”
“She’s trying to move on but it’s not easy. Three great kids help but she misses Adam a lot.” Brody threw a few bills on the bar and followed her.
“Tell her hi for me. See you around.” Outside, she inhaled the clean night air and wished that she could get him out of her mind and heart as swiftly as leaving a bar full of the smell of sweat and beer.
“You’re two different people. One is the smart teacher. The other one is the girl who left and they’re fightin’ with each other,” he said.
“You got it. And the winner takes all.” She walked faster.
He matched his long strides with hers. “Which is?”
“The prize.” She stopped abruptly. “Don’t feel like you have to walk me to my vehicle. I’m a big girl and I’ve been takin’ care of myself for years.”
“You’ve always been able to take care of yourself, Lila, but I want to walk with you.” His hand went to her lower back.
The intense heat would probably leave a print on her back that would look like a bright red tattoo for days, but she didn’t argue or shrug it away.
When they reached her bright red truck, he whistled under his teeth. “Nice vehicle.”
She dug around in her purse and found the keys. “I left the motorcycle at home.”
“Oh, really?” His expression said that he didn’t believe her.
“Yep, I didn’t want to arrive with helmet head.”
“Are you serious?”
“Why would you be so surprised? I am, after all, the resident bad child of Happy, Texas. I’m surprised there’s not a picture of me beside the city limits sign warning everyone to steer clear of Lila Harris. If you rub shoulders with her, you get an instant ticket to hell. Do not pass go. Do not collect two hundred dollars. Just get on your poker and get ready for the ride.”
“Motorcycles are dangerous. You shouldn’t—”
She laid a finger over his lips. “I stayed on a bull for eight seconds and climbed to the top of the water tower. You didn’t fuss at me about those things because, wait, you were right there with me. Well, darlin’, buy a Harley and we’ll terrorize Happy before we have to use that quarter and call for the senior citizens’ bus. Good night, Brody.”
With a hand on each side, he pinned her against the truck door. She put both hands on his chest with intentions of pushing him away, but she made the mistake of looking into his eyes. Lashes slowly closed to rest on his cheekbones and she barely had time to mo
isten her lips before she was swept away by a scorching hot kiss.
She should push him back but instead, her arms went around his neck and she touched his bottom lip with her tongue. He groaned and opened his mouth, deepening the kiss into fiery hot passion. She would have been there until daylight, but he finally stepped back, picked up her hand, and kissed her palm twice.
“One kiss for the Lila I remember, the other for the woman she’s become. Both are very special.” Then he turned and disappeared into the darkness.
With weak knees, she hit the button to unlock her bright red truck and crawled into the driver’s seat, leaned her head back, and sighed. Her whole body tingled and every single frayed hormone was crying out to call him and tell him to meet her at the springs. But instead she started the engine and drove south toward Happy at five miles under the speed limit.
She pulled into the garage and got on her cycle, rode it out to Henry’s ranch, and parked it at the barbed-wire fence separating Hope Springs from Texas Star. Jumping a fence was like riding a bicycle—once done, it was second nature to do it again, even after a dozen years. She put a hand on a wooden post and gave a hop, cleared the top strand, and came down on Brody’s property.
Hot! Damn hot! If hell is seven times hotter than this, the devil might already be cooling off in Hope Springs, she thought as she made her way from the fence to the cold spring that bubbled down over a tiny little waterfall into a pool. The water came from an underground spring that flowed all year and no matter how hot the weather was the water was never warm.
She jogged a quarter mile back to the springs, where she jerked her boots and socks off and waded out into the icy water until it reached her knees, not caring if her jeans got wet. That didn’t help the place where his hand had been on her back. It was still too warm, so she went back to the grassy shore, shucked out of every stitch of clothing, and dove into the icy water.
“Oh. My. God!” She gasped when she surfaced. “I forgot how cold this is even in the summer. Are you happy, my inner wild child? I’m a thirty-year-old woman out here trespassing and skinny-dippin’.”
Toughest Cowboy in Texas Page 5