I nodded. “Yes.”
“So you lived nowhere near her when you were in Detroit,” she noted.
“Nope,” I confirmed.
She arched a perfectly sculpted brow.
I raised my hands in a theatrical gesture. “Yep. It makes no sense to normal people, but that’s my mother.”
Jerry shook her head. She crouched down and rifled around the nearest cardboard box. When she popped back up, she was holding a cake pan.
“I’m surprised you own one of these. You don’t look like you’ve eaten a piece of cake in your entire life.”
I huffed out a laugh. “You should have seen me at thirteen. I was “the chubby kid.”
She smirked and placed the pan in a cupboard. “So what do you want to do this weekend?”
“Sleep.” The drive had been excruciating, even with the hotel stop halfway through. I never wanted to get into a car again, and I was ready to slip into a coma.
“So it’s too soon for me to set you up on a blind date?” She shot me an evil grin.
I groaned and she chuckled.
“I found us a couple of cowboys,” she sang and giggled like a tween on her way to a One Direction concert.
“Where’d you find them?” My sarcastic tone was fueled by my exhaustion. “Cowboys R Us?”
“I met them at this line dancing bar. You’ll love it!” Her sales pitch was as dedicated as one of the lotion peddlers at a mall kiosk.
I sighed heavily. “Jerry…”
“You said you wanted to do something Texasy.” She tossed a dishtowel at me and a wicked grin spread across her face. “Who knows? Maybe you’ll do someone Texasy!”
I sighed once more, and she stuck out her bottom lip.
“When?” I groaned.
The bar where we met our ‘dates’ can best be described by my reaction, which was to hope I was up to date on my tetanus shot. Don’t get me wrong, I love Austin’s quirky joints, but some of them make me wonder if anyone inspects anything other than the food trucks.
In the dim lighting, I could see the place was packed. The wood paneling appeared to be from the 1970’s, and the floor was worn down to the concrete in places. There were enough ceiling tiles missing to make me wish that I’d worn a hard hat. I briefly wondered if so many patrons were wearing cowboy hats to get into the Country/Western spirit, or if they were merely trying to keep plaster out of their hair. The band onstage was playing some Reba McEntire tune, and they didn’t sound half bad. The area set aside for dancing had a well-worn floor, but it was shined to a high gloss, and the dancers utilizing it seemed to take their hobby very seriously. The space was packed with couples, and I was glad I’d worn my cowboy boots, which allowed me to blend in a little with the Western motif.
Jerry spotted our dates, and we waded toward the table they’d claimed directly next to the dance floor. Both of them stood when they saw us, and I gaped up at the two men. They had to be over six and a half feet tall and were clad in matching cowboy hats. They looked at least ten years older than we were, and I was tempted to wring Jerry’s neck.
In her defense, Jerry’s date was way better looking than mine. The one who sauntered in my direction looked like he wanted to be John Travolta in Urban Cowboy. Instead, he looked like Jon Cryer from Two and a Half Men.
“Kelly, Todd, Todd, Kelly,” Jerry said, sidling up to her date.
“Hey there, little lady. I hear you’re new in town,” Todd said, and I could tell by his bad accent that he was about as new to Texas as I was.
“Yep.” I tried to be polite but I wasn’t feeling it. Besides, I couldn’t stop watching the dancers. I’ve always been obsessed with dancing; in fact, I’m a closet Dancing with the Stars fan. I never miss an episode. For this, I blame my parents. They were accomplished swing dancers and two-steppers when I was very young, and I grew up watching them rehearse with rapt fascination. This was one childhood memory of mine that had somehow never been tainted, not by absent fathers or grieving, angry mothers.
I fondly recall sitting on my mother’s bed as she primped for their nights out. I loved watching her curl her long hair. She had mountains of blonde hair, and I thought if I wished hard enough, I’d grow up to have golden curls like hers. I always wished I’d inherited her creamy white complexion instead of my father’s olive skin. Mom had since cut her hair into a practical pixie cut, but even after all these years her skin was still amazing.
She’d spritz on the orchid-scented perfume my father bought her in New York City, and I thought she was the epitome of glamour. Even now, I own a bottle of that perfume, and I wear it on very special occasions. Back then, when Mom was all made up, she looked like a movie star. That was before the late nights, chain smoking at the table while sifting through piles of bills. Before that, she smiled all the time, and the way my father whistled when she walked into the living room…I was sure that was what love was all about.
Then they’d dance, and their dancing always held me spellbound. They moved like a perfect unit, and at times it was impossible for me to discern where one of them began and the other ended. They tried to teach me when I was little, but at the time I had two left feet. I didn’t mind; I was perfectly contented to observe, and the flawless way they moved was like magic. By the time I was coordinated enough to learn, dad was long gone.
I was vaguely aware of my date wandering away as the band launched into a Luke Bryan song. Jerry squealed with delight and pulled her cowboy out onto the dance floor. Even though he was about a foot taller than she was, they made an adorable pair, with their matching million-dollar grins. Jerry could really dance, and I silently cheered them on. My date reappeared with a pitcher of beer and two glasses.
“You look like you could use one of these,” he said, sitting the pitcher down.
I nodded. If I was going to have him hitting on me, I definitely was going to need a few beers. The cloud of his obnoxious body spray made my eyes sting. With an effort, I forced a smile, not wanting to be ruder than I’d already been. “Thanks.”
“Wanna dance?” he asked, stroking his overly thick mustache. It was an awfully suggestive gesture for some reason that made my skin crawl.
“Nah. I’m good.” I picked up the glass he’d just poured for me.
“Maybe that’ll loosen you up,” he teased, pouring his own beer. I noticed he was leering at my cleavage, and with a blatant eye-roll, I turned away from him and back to the dancers. I’d just placed my glass to my lips when I saw Mac on the dance floor, and I nearly choked on my beer.
I thought he looked hot straddling his bike, but seeing him in boots, tight jeans and a button up shirt gave me momentary heart palpitations. He’d forgone the cowboy hat, which only made him stand out more amongst his peers. Based on the looks on the faces around him, I wasn’t the only woman who’d taken note of him. That was hardly surprising. He may as well have had a spotlight trained on him.
The band was still playing Country Girl, and the thunder of boots striking the ground in unison punctuated the bass line. My attention was focused on Mac and the rest of the room seemed to vanish. I was glad he was too busy to notice me staring.
The trashy girl dancing with him was doing everything she could to keep his attention. Tossing her over-teased hair, she shook her ass like she was working a stripper pole. Mac didn’t seem bothered by her display. His athletic body gyrated, twisted, and spun to the music, making my mouth water enough that I blindly reached for my beer and gulped it down. Every once in a while, he’d break out of the line to do some quasi-dirty-dancing with the blonde, and I had to admit they really were impressive. I gaped at him in shock, not only at how well he danced, but how good he looked doing it. Luckily, he was so focused on his date’s fake tits, he didn’t see me drooling.
When the song had drawn to a close and Mac had stopped swinging that ass of his, I realized that my date had been trying to engage me in conversation for the entire song. Unfortunately, that was about the time that he noticed that I wasn’t payin
g attention to a word that he was saying. He lapsed into silence, a look of annoyance on his mediocre face. I took a deep drink of my beer using my glugging time to think of a way to diffuse the situation. I was grateful for Jerry’s timely return with her date in tow.
“So how are you two getting along?” Jerry asked in a breathless voice. Todd made a noncommittal grunt and walked off into the crowd. Jerry shot me a quizzical look, and I shrugged, unconcerned. Between the noise and my utter lack of interest in ‘String-bean Cowboy,’ I really couldn’t find the energy to come up with an excuse. Jerry took the hint and whisked her date to the bar for a drink. I let out a relived sigh and picked up the pitcher, pouring myself another beer.
“Well now, small world.” Mac’s easy drawl sent shivers up my spine, and I sloshed some of the beer I was pouring. I turned to look up at him, and I’ll be damned if he wasn’t ten times more attractive than I remembered.
“You missed me so much you couldn’t stay away?” He flipped Todd’s empty chair around backwards and straddled it with a flourish. I decided he was a straddling expert, which made my mind wander to what else he might be an expert at.
“You found me out,” I joked, taking another long drink of my beer.
“Francis didn’t mention you were coming into town.” His pale eyes swept over me, and when they lingered on my cleavage, I found myself far less judgmental of him than I had been of Todd.
“He doesn’t know,” I replied. Mac’s eyebrow rose, and his lips slid into an infectious smile. I briefly wondered if his lips tasted as rich and delicious as they looked.
“I can keep a secret.” The way he said it made heat spread across my chest and up my throat. This man was always pushing, and I was surprised to realize that I liked it.
I quickly explained about my new job and that I’d just been in town for a few days.
“Well, welcome to the neighborhood. If you ever need to borrow a cup of sugar, I’m your guy.” He held out his beer bottle, and I clinked my glass against it. He pinned me with his gaze as we both lifted our drinks to our lips. It was clear that Mac could make anything look sexual, even swallowing.
“Where’s your date?” I asked, clearing my throat. I glanced around for the trashy girl, but she was nowhere to be seen. When I turned back to him, his watchful blue gaze was still on me.
“Where’s yours?” he asked, laughter evident behind his eyes. His deep voice was a major turn on, and I caught myself twirling my hair.
“He’s around here somewhere,” I responded. Surprise overtook his features, and I realized he’d presumed I was alone.
“It’s a blind date,” I blurted and immediately felt like an idiot. His lips twitched with a ghost of a smile.
“He must be blind if he walked away and left you sittin’ here alone.” Mac leaned forward and brushed a tendril of my hair away from my cheek. I told myself to laugh it off, but I was held captive by the probing way he was looking at me. The moment went on and on, and just when I thought he might lean in closer and kiss me, he sat back.
“He’s a lucky guy,” Mac drawled, and seeing some commotion over his shoulder, I ripped my gaze from his. My stomach plummeted when I realized Todd had spotted Mac at our table. He purposefully strode in our direction and dropped his hand on Mac’s shoulder.
“Hey there, Mac. Move along now, this little lady is with me,” Todd said tightly in his affected Texan accent that seemed to come and go. Mac twisted in his chair, and he looked pointedly down at the hand on his shoulder. Then he smiled, but his eyes remained stone cold.
“Todd,” Mac tilted his head sideways a bit. “Kelly and I are catching up. We’re old friends.”
“Is that so?” Todd gave me as suspicious look. I ignored him, I didn’t need to explain myself to a guy I’d known for all of fifteen seconds. “Well, I think you can catch up later. She’s my date.”
“Seems to me, the ‘little lady’ can decide who she wants to sit with. I don’t see a ring on her finger…and I know you’re not her father. Though now that I think about it, you’re probably around the same age he is…”
Todd’s face turned bright red, and I felt hands on my arms. Jerry had appeared out of nowhere to pull me away from the two men. I looked at her like she was off her meds, but then Mac slid out of his seat and rose to face Todd, and I realized Jerry was far more in tune with the undercurrent of the situation.
Mac blinked hard a few times as he stepped closer to Todd and I realized he had just crossed into the ‘body spray zone’. He waved his hand between the two of them as if to disperse the stench, and Todd shot him a dirty look. As they stood face to face, I noticed that even though Todd had a few inches of height on him, Mac was much broader and way more intimidating. Todd seemed to notice this too and appeared to be rethinking his territorial claim on me. After a glance in my direction, he cracked a crooked grin.
“Well, hell. I didn’t realize you were a friend of hers.” His accent had vanished once more, and he looked over Mac’s shoulder at Jerry’s date and jerked his head toward the door. “I’m gonna call it a night, man. See ya later.” Nodding to Mac, Todd made his exit, giving me a tip of the hat as he walked away.
“What the hell just happened?” Jerry asked, her eyes following Todd as he scurried out the door.
“Jerry, meet Mac. Mac, this is Jerry,” I said with a sigh.
“Wait! The Mac?” Jerry gave me a sideways smile, as she moved in to offer her hand to Mac.
“Oh, she mentioned me, did she?” Mac asked, giving her his signature Captain America grin. Or perhaps Captain Morgan might have been a more fitting description.
“Only about a hundred times,” Jerry confided, her dazzling smile revealing her perfect dimples. “I’ve heard all about you.”
Feeling betrayed, I was tempted to pour the remainder of the pitcher over her head. I might have gushed a little to her about how funny and hot he was after the night at Molly and Joe’s rooftop extravaganza, but she didn’t need to tell him that.
“Nothin’ but compliments, I hope.” Mac raised he eyebrows at me, and I folded my arms, not amused.
“Hmmmm…well…everything she said could be construed as good in the right context,” Jerry affirmed, and with a deeper, pointed look my way, Mac released her hand and turned to me. He casually slipped his arm around my shoulder, and his touch made every nerve ending he came into contact with tingle pleasantly. He smelled very nice. Clean, musky, masculine. He was eyeing me thoughtfully, and leaned closer, opening his mouth to speak. That’s when BleachBlonde McFakeboobs reappeared.
“There you are,” she purred, her raccoon eyes assessing and dismissing me immediately. “Ready for another dance?”
“Actually, I was fixin’ to dance with her,” Mac replied, pulling me closer against his side. I put my hand out on instinct, and when it came into contact with his hard chest, I felt my temperature shoot through the roof. McFakeboobs suddenly decided I was worth a second glance, and after she re-evaluated me, she huffed.
“Whatever,” she spat and walked off in the direction of the door.
“Mac, I don’t…” I started to explain that I didn’t dance when the current song ended. The crowd roared, and the band launched into a ballad.
“Come on,” Mac insisted in that panty-dropping drawl of his. Before I could protest further, he was guiding me out onto the dance floor. Once there, he took my hands, draping them around his neck.
“That was a bit harsh,” I said, cautiously watching his date storm out the front door.
“What?” Mac turned his ear to me, as if he were having trouble hearing me. I leaned in so I could put my mouth closer to his ear.
“First you get my date to leave, then yours,” I replied. “What’s next? Are you planning to pull the fire alarm?”
He pulled back and nodded.
“Well, it is getting hot in here,” he murmured, and I couldn’t suppress a smile.
“She’s probably outside looking for my car so she can key it. Good thing I didn�
��t drive,” I said, trying to keep things light. My intense physiological response to him disturbed me, and I worked to keep myself in check.
“She wasn’t my date. I came here alone,” he said in a distant tone, his expression hardening a little. He said it just loud enough so I could make out the words. As we moved in a slow circle, I noticed Jerry and her date inching toward the door. She mouthed ‘bye’ and gave me a little wave. I glared after her as I watched them leave. She’d driven, and now I was trapped.
“Looks like I’m chasing everybody’s dates away,” Mac said, with his signature Cheshire grin.
“She’s no longer my friend,” I grumbled. “I don’t suppose I could take you up on that raincheck.”
His eyes narrowed.
“I didn’t catch that.” He presented his ear to me once more, as the band decided to bring home the ballad, and the lead singer was wailing at the top of his lungs.
“I said, ‘I might need to take you up on that raincheck.’” I paraphrased. He turned his face suddenly toward mine, and our faces were just inches apart. His eyes uncrinkled, and his devious grin evaporated. I saw need in his eyes and something far more elusive. For one very long moment, I was certain he was going to kiss me. I may have even closed my eyes in anticipation of it. The sound of his laughter jolted me out of my trance.
“Oh…yeah. The ride.” His chuckles died down with a sigh, and I felt relief radiating off of him in waves.
What the hell?
“Sure.” He jerked his chin in the direction of the door. “I’ll give you a ride.”
Minutes later, he led me out of the bar and into the sweltering August evening. A crowd of people crossed our path on the sidewalk, and he wrapped his arm around me and pulled me aside so I wouldn’t get trampled. He maneuvered me down the block with his arm around me. He did it comfortably and confidently, as if we’d been out together a thousand times before. When he stepped off the curb, I recognized his black motorcycle, and my heart thudded in my chest. I wish I could say it was because it was so cool and he looked so sexy climbing on, but in truth I was scared shitless. Minutes later, we were zipping along through heavy traffic. Thankfully, Mac had insisted I wear his helmet, and having never been on the back of a bike, I clung to him as if at any moment I’d blow off into the night.
Wood U (Carved Hearts #4) Page 4