The bartender scooted a couple of frozen margaritas toward them. “Thanks,” Candy whispered and took a sip. It was strong and gave her an instant brain freeze. “Wow! That hurts.”
She didn’t want any more. One drink was her usual limit—a completely social thing. Normally, she nursed that half the night. Glancing at her watch, she said, “Really. He’s a no-show. It’s forty-five minutes now.”
“Levi isn’t like that.”
The bar Erica had chosen was a busy place on the far edge of town with an urban cowboy feel. The strains of Boot Scootin’ Boogie by Brooks and Dunn began, and a flurry of Barbies, belt bunnies, and bimbos rushed the floor with a questionable crowd of boot wearers right behind them. Candy was temporarily distracted by the sudden urge to go and give the boot scoot a try. Squelching that temptation as fast as it came, she turned on Erica with her disappointment in life in general.
“And he is so thoughtful he called the minute he got held up.” Candy sighed. “Really, let’s take stock here. He wasn’t asking for a date. You set him up with a girl he’s never seen and never cared to meet.”
“That’s not true.” Erica reached over and tucked Candy’s bra strap in. It peeked repeatedly from under her boat-neck cotton T-shirt. Apparently, it was driving Erica crazy. She’d fixed it three times.
Candy pushed her hand away. “What’s wrong with him, anyway? A guy who’s thirty-one and single, lives on the family farm. What’s that say to you?”
Erica frowned. “He’s a farm boy?”
“And I’m a city girl. I’m seeing problems already. But no. There’s more than that. If he’s so good, why hasn’t somebody snapped him up and given him four kids by now? Isn’t that what farm boys do?”
“He’s not really a boy anymore,” Erica muttered. “Even if he is a cousin, I’m telling ya, the guy looks good in his jeans, with or without a shirt. You gotta see him.”
Erica averted her eyes, staring at the door, as if willing her cousin to appear. Her friend was a big believer in manifesting destiny, making things happen by wishing them to be. But this desire for them to be related by marriage just wasn’t working out. Levi was the fourth cousin Erica had set her up with. Noah, Kyle, Danny, and now, Levi. Admittedly, the others had been hot but missing something she needed—like a total love at first sight thing. Now, Candy’s heart had lost hope. After all, if Levi was all that great, why hadn’t Erica hooked them up first?
“You gotta meet him.”
Candy studied Erica’s profile. It was a head turner. Erica had bleached blonde hair, perfect aquiline features, and looked a lot like Morgan Fairchild and Paris Hilton. Not quite as skinny but thin enough to spin men in circles. Candy hated that and loved it at the same time. She got a lot of fall-out attention when Erica passed guys off. But neither of them could find true love. It was so disheartening. What did it take?
She was a little too curvy to be happy with her body. Not that she was fat exactly, but no one would call her thin. She had full hips. Her waist wasn’t bad, but her breasts weren’t all that great. Nothing a farm boy could call melons. So, what most people noticed was her wide ass, and it was pretty flat. That’s about all she could say for it. Erica swore she looked great in her jeans, though. And who was she to argue with the fashion queen?
“Why are you keeping it such a mystery?” Candy tried not to be annoyed, but with every ticking second, she felt more and more unwanted.
“I told you how old he is and that he has blue eyes and black hair, and that he isn’t a bum. And he’s not into sheep.”
Sipping her margarita, Candy glanced around, nearly choking on it when Erica reminded her of the worst question she’d ever had to ask about a man. Worry had been replaced with snickering laughter when Erica assured her, “No. He’s a cow boy.” Candy had wondered about the guy ever since.
Erica reached over and gave her back a wallop. “I wish you’d get over that.”
“Swear you won’t tell him I asked about sheep. I mean it, swear.”
“You want my blood oath?” Erica shook her head, happy, way too happy. “I don’t think it would be prudent for me to give a promise on this. I’m sure I’ll need the dirt sometime in the future.”
That was how Erica was. And now that Candy thought about it, it was probably how Levi had been twisted into agreeing to the blind date. Suspicion filled her mind. What did Erica have on him?
“Please say you’re serious that he doesn’t have a weird thing going on with animals. Sheep or cows, or anything else.”
“He does have a dog he’s pretty partial to. Or two.” Erica’s lips slid sideways, and she rolled her eyes heavenward. “Please. He’s great. And, believe it or not, I don’t have any knowledge of anything being wrong with him…except one thing, and that’s not too bad, really. But it’s the kind of thing he’ll have to tell you himself.”
A fairly handsome guy headed toward them, but Erica caught his eye and shook her head with a frown and a wave, sending him in a veering direction away from them. Several men had come over, but Erica had staunchly sent them away, announcing they were meeting someone. Now, they were looking pathetic. Stood up.
And that last one, to Candy’s mind, was the final straw. “I just want to go.”
“That drink’s putting color in your cheeks.” Erica smiled at her. “You really look good, Candy Laine.”
Ah, the stupid nickname. “Please don’t call me that when he shows up, if he shows up.”
Erica’s pep talk made Candy want to cry. She was twenty-six and dying.
“I think he talked to your other cousins and found out stuff about me, then decided not to show. Why doesn’t he have a cell phone? What guy in this day and age doesn’t have a cell?”
“There’s no service where he lives, I think. He has a land line in his house. Maybe his truck broke down on the way in. Who knows? Oh. There he is!”
Erica practically fell off her barstool, standing up, waving. Candy did not believe her eyes. The guy at the door was beyond sexy. A Marlboro man without the cig. A romance cover model with his shirt on. And oh, how tight was that black T-shirt? Tight enough to outline a serious set of abs and to stretch across arms that were obviously used to weight lifting or some other strenuous activity.
He was tall, too. Who couldn’t like that lean but bulked up look? Candy reached up, checking the errant bra strap, pasting a hopeful smile on her face, reminding herself not to hope too hard. He’d probably stay for one beer and be gone.
Holy heavens. She couldn’t help noticing his below-the-waist-action when he caught sight of Erica and strode toward them. Levi’s jeans said cowboy, cowboy, cowboy. They were long and boot cut but appeared well-worn. Not commercially aged. No holes. Clean. That was the biggest thing Candy noticed about him. He had a fresh look, like he was his own man—straight from the farm. An old world sort of guy. Honest. Everything Erica had promised.
Her gaze dropped. His black, pointed toed boots screamed real, real, real cowboy. They were freshly polished. Candy didn’t know any men who polished their boots. Or any men who had those kind of, honest to God, shitkicker boots. Certainly none who had boots that might have walked through a corral or climbed on a horse. She was a city girl, born and bred. So, this guy appeared to be an enigma.
He wouldn’t want anything to do with her. They would never get along. All her doubts and fears came to the fore, but rushing behind those were bold faced sexual attraction. With every step he made, Candy felt her insides coiling tighter, spiraling downward, a wetness pooling lightly in her panties.
The minute he got within two feet of them, Erica wrapped her arms around him. “Levi! I thought you stood us up!”
It was weird, how Candy’s gaze focused low and her mind went straight to the gutter. She couldn’t manage to take her eyes off the way he automatically slid his arms around Erica, squeezing gently then letting her go and setting her back on her feet in one smooth move. The need for a caressing hug caused a pang in Candy’s heart.
“Hey. I wouldn’t do that to you. I said I’d come. Thanks for waiting. I got hung up.”
His voice, sexy, slid over her in a warm way, even though he was talking directly to Erica. But it was his hands stealing her attention—long fingers, big, strong looking—and his forearms…how did a man get forearms that muscular? Lifting hay? How much did hay weigh, anyway?
The tongue-twisting thought made her want to giggle. She tamped down the urge.
“Let me introduce you to my friend.” Erica pulled Levi the last step or so toward her. “Candy…Candace Merrill. This is Levi Bishop, my cousin.”
The fact that she tacked on their relationship made Candy grin. Erica was so silly. Of course he was her cousin. How many times had that been stated before?
“Nice to meet you.” She held out a hand and finally forced her gaze upward to really take in the man’s facial features. As he took hold of her fingers, his eyes lasered through hers. Feeling at a distinct disadvantage, and shorter than ever, she slipped from her stool and went weak in the knees.
He didn’t hold onto her hand, but she couldn’t remember him letting go or touching her more than that first second. But her whole system zipped with electricity from the contact. Her heart raced. She noted the feminine wetness again, and blood rushed to her cheeks.
Could a man be that pretty and that rugged at the same time? Besides the fact that his eyes were a true sky-blue, the long black lashes surrounding them accentuated the pupils. His hair was collar length and didn’t look like it had seen a barber in a while. Most of the guys Candy dated were short trimmed. Levi had long sideburns that pointed in a bit toward his lips.
Which moved, pursing a second before he spoke. She keyed in.
“I’ve heard a lot about you.” His voice had such a smoothness, quiet and low, the tenor of it sent another coil of need through her center.
“Really? I’m sure it was all lies.” She had no idea why she said it. Nervous? Yes. A smart crack to cover it up, and maybe because she didn’t trust Erica completely. Her friend wanted this to happen so bad, she probably had embellished the truth some. “She’s made you out to be the mystery man of the century. Weird, huh?”
“Is that right?”
His gaze slid toward Erica and seemed suddenly unsure. Candy watched the emotion flit across his features. He’d looked so confident, waltzing in, striding across the bar with purpose. But now, she couldn’t put a finger on it, but he was awkward.
That expanded as Erica looked between the two of them and said, “How ‘bout we get a booth and just talk for a few minutes?”
“All right.” He seemed agreeable, glad for the suggestion.
Candy grabbed her drink. She was going to need it, probably. She was grateful he’d given her time to get through one before showing up.
The guy was too handsome. Too perfect for a girl like her. She had so many flaws. He was a hard body and she was too soft. He was picture perfect and she…oh why had she done this stupid spiral thing with her hair? Her hand tangled in the ringlets hanging at her temple. Her newly manicured solar nails got caught and it took a second to get them out. She pretended to scratch her head.
Great. He’ll probably think I have head lice or something.
She thought about the odd emotion that had slithered over his face. It had unsettled her. He had to have something wrong with him. Some secret or the mystery man comment wouldn’t have made him uneasy.
Candy didn’t know if she was out of her league or what, but she felt uncomfortable. Mostly because she desperately wanted to see something wrong in him. Self-sabotage climbed into high gear. Look for it. Look for it. There has to be something.
He probably has an ex psycho bitch girlfriend that Erica never heard about, a girl in his past like all his cousins had. How could a man that looked like that not have an ex or two hanging on?
“You want something to drink?” Erica picked up hers.
“Let me think about that.” His lips turned up a bit at the corners, adding to his appeal. Again, she noted his voice had a deep but easy resonance that titillated Candy as if it had reached right inside her belly and squeezed her pussy. She felt a tingle down below. That was a new experience for her. Turned on just by a man’s voice? That didn’t happen to her every day.
Geez. She darn near went sky diving in his baby blues. Swimming in the crystal ponds. They didn’t look like there was any guile behind them. Maybe she’d imagined that look of discomfiture. Candy sighed, glancing at his tight, body hugging T-shirt again. The moment stretched, it seemed, to breaking point in a slow-mo that had Candy thinking way too much about running her fingers over every inch of his upper body. She wondered if he had a “farmer’s tan” or was just as tanned under his shirt.
What was on his mind? Did he like what he saw? Would he care to know her skin was milky white everywhere?
She wanted him to think about all sorts of things, all having to do with her—her eyes, amber; her hair, auburn; her build—as it was. God, she wanted him to like what he saw, just half as much as she liked what she saw in him. Once again, her gaze skipped to his. Could a guy get eyes any bluer? Or hair any darker? More silky? And she damn near wanted to drool over his biceps. Skittering nervous glances. One thing was for sure, she was afraid to make eye contact for more than a second.
Reality snapped. He wasn’t ordering a drink right away. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to stick around for a whole drink? No problem. She understood. One look and he wasn’t interested. It happened.
Disappointment skewered through her. She couldn’t help feeling a little sad as they went toward the first open booth Erica spotted. The guy towered over her, keeping close, bringing up the rear. Candy didn’t look back. She didn’t stop to think about who should sit where. She just slid past Erica and in, ending up in the middle, in the back. Erica scooted left, sat down and pointed.
“Why don’t you sit there?”
Levi didn’t have any choice. He dropped into the booth on the other side. And the minute he was in, his knee bumped Candy’s.
“Sorry,” he said, but he didn’t move it away.
“It’s okay.” She sucked hard on her skinny straw. She needed another drink, maybe.
This close she could smell him. He had on some heavenly aftershave, and it wasn’t some cheap pharmacy brand either. She didn’t know what it was, but the richly blended scent of pine and musk made her senses swim.
“So, you work on a farm?” It was the only thing Candy could think to say.
“Yep.”
Lazily, he leaned back and eyed her. She knew the minute her hair totally registered. It was too short now and the perm had gone a little tight, although it still hung past her shoulders. Candy hated the fact that she’d given in to fear that her “regular” hair was turning men off. The bouncy curls were a big difference from the long straight stuff’s natural look. Erica swore it was a fun, cute style that suited her features really well.
Self-conscious, Candy pushed the springing curls out of her eyes. “I work in the call center for a phone company.”
“Where Erica works. Right?”
“Yep.”
Candy felt sure the whole thing was a bust. Two sentences out of the gate and they’d had a couple of yeps already. One word answers were never a good sign.
“Do you like it?”
She winced. “Kinda.”
Did it sound lame to like a job where all she did was call strangers? Probably. But she liked chatting without physical appearances bogging things up.
“Do you like working on your farm?”
He gave her a full-toothed smile, and she melted. Sitting up straighter, then leaning closer, he asked, “What would you think if I said I loved it?”
He loved it? She couldn’t swallow. She couldn’t think. He was in her face, daring her to call him…something. Daring her to argue the point or to judge him.
She cleared her throat. “I’d say a man should love what he does…for a living.” Then she stuttered. “I m-me
an wh-what’s the point if you don’t?”
“Exactly. A man shouldn’t be miserable all his life.”
Did that mean he was miserable or not? Or had been at some point? She wasn’t sure.
“You want a drink?” Erica, pusher of alcohol to ease the situation, got up. “Let me get you something.”
There was a waitress, but she was on the other side of the room and apparently not in any hurry to leave the table full of men.
“What do you want?” Erica pushed the issue, flicking her blonde hair away from her face.
Levi smiled evenly. “How about a Coke?”
“A rum and Coke?”
“Nope. Just a soda.” Levi stared Erica down.
Disappointed, Erica gave in. “Oh. Okay.”
They watched her walk away. Candy wanted to know what made him late but felt it would be rude to ask.
“I’ve never been on a real farm.” It sounded stupid even to her own ears, but she had a great need to fill the silence, to keep from thinking too hard. That always got her into trouble.
“Probably never wanted to be, then. Huh?”
So much for getting the home tour. Candy played with the straw in her drink.
“No. I mean, I never knew anybody from the country. It was never, you know, an option.”
“Serious city girl, huh?”
She wondered if he liked brown eyes. Did hers remind him of cows? They were big. Her dad used to tease her about that. Her big cow eyes. Cows don’t cry, he’d say just to stop her tears. To make her argue that she wasn’t a cow. She felt like one, though.
“I don’t know about serious.” She gave him a little smile. “Are you a serious farm boy?”
He chuckled out loud. “Boy?”
His bulging biceps and forearms snagged her attention again. Oh, hell no. This was no boy.
She squeaked. “It went with the girl thing.”
Was he counting every freckle or what? He stared through her skin or something. Could he see her insecurities? The heart of her? If he could, he’d know it was running ninety miles an hour and tripping all at the same time.
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