Chapter 20

I whirled in my seat and heard myself gasp.

Oh, crap. There he was – an obscenely handsome stranger in an overly sexy cowboy getup. He was lugging a portable music player, and heading straight for us, strutting in a way that I knew all too well.

Praying for some sign I was wrong, I studied the guy's outfit. I saw fake leather chaps and a brown suede vest, open nearly to his navel. No shirt underneath. No cowboy boots. Just black running shoes with white laces.

My eyes narrowed. This was no real cowboy.

I whirled back to Cassie and said, "She didn't."

But obviously, she had.

Aunt Gina.

Damn it.

Cassie gave me an apologetic look. "Sorry. I didn't know." She bit her lip. "I mean, the way your aunt talked…"

Oh yeah. Aunt Gina. The one who'd promised oh-so sincerely that she was done with this sort of thing.

Apparently not.

I glanced toward the nearest exit. Happily, I was sitting at the edge of the booth, with no one blocking my path. If nothing else, I wouldn't need to crawl over anyone to make my escape.

And I was planning to escape.

From across the table, April's voice drifted through the noise. "Oh, man. A cowboy." Her voice became almost husky. "I love cowboys." I looked to see her eyeing the guy like he was the last pork chop at a meat-lovers convention.

On impulse, I said, "You want him? You can have him."

Her face broke into a huge, sloppy grin. "Seriously?"

Again, I glanced toward the exit. "Seriously." I turned to give Cassie an apologetic smile. "Sorry I'm being so weird about it." I started talking as fast as I could. "But hey, thanks for the party. And the cake. And everything. It was really, really thoughtful. I owe you one, okay?"

Next to me, Joel said, "You're not leaving."

That's what he thought. With or without him, I was bolting while I had the chance. I turned toward him and said, "Oh yeah? Why not?"

"Because you haven't given me that dance."

I did a double-take. "Huh?"

"Hey, you asked. Remember?"

Yes. Of course, I remembered. And he'd turned me down. Hadn't he?

No. That wasn't right. He'd turned me down for a kiss. About the dance, he'd never answered at all. 

Still, I recognized this for what it was – a way to avoid the stripper without hurting anyone's feelings. It was the perfect lifeline, and I was grabbing that sucker while I had the chance.

I gave Joel a vigorous nod and practically leapt out of the booth, only to collide face-first with the chest of the cowboy, who stepped back and said in a big, Texas drawl, "Sorry ma'am."

I stared up at him. "Uh, that's okay."

He gave me a wink and tipped his hat. "So, are you the birthday girl?"

My mouth opened, but before I could say a single word, April's voice, loud and clear, carried across the short distance. "It's me!" she called. "I'm the birthday girl! Howdy, howdy, howdy!"

I could've kissed her – and the rest of the table, too, when no one spoke up to contradict her.

Escape time.

I grabbed Joel's hand, and practically dragged him out of the booth. Without looking back, I pulled us into the aisle that led to the dance floor. Walking fast, I didn't look back, and I didn't stop until we'd disappeared into the middle of the dancing crowd.

We'd barely stopped when the band transitioned from a familiar rock number to a slow, steady ballad from sometime before I'd been born.

Thankful for the switch, I fell into his arms and buried my face against his chest. Soon, I was laughing with relief, and yeah, more than a little bit embarrassment.

Against his shirt, I said, "Thanks for that."

"For what?"

"For rescuing me, of course." I pulled back and rolled my eyes. "Again."

His eyes filled with humor. "Who says you weren't rescuing me?"

"What? You're not a fan of cowboys?"

"That kind?" He grinned. "No ma'am."

Again, I had to laugh. "Sorry. I guess I panicked back there."

"If you panicked, imagine how I felt."

It was a nice sentiment, obviously designed to spare my feelings. But it couldn’t be true. I barely knew this guy, but one thing was already obvious. He wasn't the panicking type.

If he'd been truly panicking, he would've taken the quicker way out. He would've simply followed me to the exit and called it a night.

But he hadn't.

So I had to ask him, "Why'd you do it?"

"Do what?"

I glanced around. "This. I mean, you could've just driven me home and called it good."

"Is that what you wanted?"

"No," I admitted. "Not really."

"Well, there you go."

Yup. There I went. And here I was, dancing with the hottest guy in the whole place. And yes, that did include the cowboy. Sure, the cowboy was undeniably hot, even in that ridiculous outfit, but Joel was something more, and not only because of his beautiful face and rock-hard body. 

He was real, and he was solid. And his hands felt amazing, resting on my hips. True, it wasn't skin-to-skin, but I liked the feel of him and the motions of him, too. But most of all, I liked how thoughtful he'd been in aiding my escape.

I gazed up at him, wondering which Joel was real – the jerk I'd left at the campsite, or the nice guy who'd been rescuing me nonstop ever since.

Searching his face, I couldn’t be sure. He was full of contradictions, and there were so many questions I wanted to ask.

Where did you come from?

How do you know Derek?

And then, there was the scariest question of all. If it weren't for the cowboy, would you still be out here, dancing with me?

But I didn't ask any of those questions. Instead, I leaned into him and rested my warm face against the cool cotton of his T-shirt. His chest was hard, and his movements were smooth and easy, soothing me into a blissful trance that felt way too good, all things considered.

I let my eyelids flutter shut, and tried to block out everything else – the drunken crowd shifting around us, the muted whoops and hollers from the booth I'd just left, and the certain knowledge that the song wouldn't last forever.

Unfortunately.