by Elle James
Leslie stared at him with narrowed eyes. “How can I trust you not to do something equally silly?”
His grin broadened. “You can’t trust me. But I promise not to hurt you.”
Leslie shook her head. “Weddings are supposed to be a serious event.”
Tag nodded. “Yes, they should be serious events. And they should be fun. After all, a wedding is a celebration of happiness shared by two people in love.” He opened the truck door and handed Leslie up into the passenger seat.
“True,” she said. “Just remember that bridesmaid dresses aren’t made for manhandling.” Though she wore a stern expression, her lips twitched.
“I’ll try to keep that in mind.” Tag grinned broadly, rounded the truck, climbed into the driver’s seat and started the engine. He pulled out onto the highway. The race was on to get to the Ugly Stick Saloon before the last man arrived.
Tag broke a few speed limits and ran a couple stop signs between the chapel and the saloon. He arrived in the parking lot two seconds before Gage and Fiona. Slamming the shift into park, he leaped down from his seat and ran around the side to help Leslie down. He grabbed her hand and ran for the saloon, arriving at the same time as Gage and Fiona, laughing.
Tag opened the door and held it for Leslie and Fiona. Gage dove through before Tag could stop him. Tag entered the saloon last, shaking his head.
“Guess who’s buying the beer tonight?” Sean said.
Tag’s mouth twisted into a wry grin. It wasn’t like he couldn’t afford to buy the first round of beer. And he really didn’t mind. His friends were like his brothers. They meant the world to him. “All right, the first round is on me.”
Tag walked to the bar and slapped his credit card on the surface. “What can I get you, Leslie?”
“I’ll have a draft beer,” she said.
Once he had their beer mugs in hand, Tag led Leslie to the large table where the bride, groom, bridesmaids and groomsmen had gathered.
They had reserved the entire saloon for the dinner, setting aside two hours just for them. After that, the saloon would open to all patrons. Someone had loaded the juke box with coins, and music was playing.
They ate their meal of barbeque brisket, potato salad and beans, talking and laughing throughout.
When the food was cleared away and drinks replenished, Sean raised his beer mug. “I’d like to propose a toast.”
“Who are we toasting?” Coop asked.
“To Marjorie,” Sean said, nodding toward the wedding planner who sat with Emma’s brothers alongside the preacher. “Best drill sergeant ever. She got us to our beer on time.”
Everyone lifted their drinks. “To Marjorie!”
Tag grinned and downed a deep swallow of his beer.
Coop raised his mug. “I’d like to propose a toast.”
Emma frowned. “You’re not supposed to propose toasts. You’re the groom.”
Coop grinned. “I’d like to propose that we don’t propose anymore toasts for the evening.”
Everyone raised their drinks. “Here! Here!”
“This might be the last time I get to dance with a single woman. I’m going to take full advantage of this opportunity. My future wife has a jealous streak a mile wide.” Coop winked, downed a swallow of his beer, set his mug on the table, grabbed Emma’s hand and dragged her out onto the dance floor.
Emma laughed as Coop swung her into his arms.
Leslie set her drink on the table and glanced across at Tag. “Aren’t you going to ask me to dance?”
Tag nodded. “I was just about to do that.”
“Good. I want to see just how good you are at the two-step.” Leslie took his hand and led him out onto the floor.
Tag twirled her into his arms and danced her around the floor in a lively two-step. He was pleased at how easily she kept up with him.
“Randy didn’t like to dance,” Leslie said. “I’m glad you do.”
Before he’d lost Leslie to Randy, Tag had not liked dancing either. He’d made it his business to figure out what Leslie liked and didn’t like. He hadn’t set out consciously to learn to dance because of her. He told himself that many women liked to dance, and even more men didn’t. If he planned on reentering the dating scene, and if he wanted to find a woman like Leslie, he had to learn to dance.
The song came to a close, immediately followed by the Cotton-Eyed Joe.
“Are you game for this one?” Tag asked.
Leslie nodded. “I’m game, if you are.”
“Let’s do this.”
Around and around, they danced to the Cotton-Eyed Joe, along with everyone else. As the song progressed, the music sped up until they were kicking and shuffling as fast as they could to keep up. The song came to a breathless end. Everyone on the dance floor stopped, laughed and held onto their aching sides.
The next song was slow and easy. The kind of song made for belly rubbing and belt buckle polishing. Tag held Leslie’s hands in his and stared down into her eyes. “Are you up for one more.”
She chuckled. “As long as all I have to do is stand here and sway, I’m good for another.”
Tag pulled her close. “We can sway. No pressure. No fancy dance moves.” He rested his lips near her temple and inhaled a deep breath. “Your hair smells like honeysuckle in the summertime.”
Leslie chuckled. “I hope that’s a compliment, and that you’re not allergic to honeysuckle.”
“Trust me, it was a compliment. I love the scent of honeysuckle,” he said and gathered her closer.
As promised, he stood in one place swaying back and forth with Leslie in his arms. He couldn’t think of any place he’d rather be. When the song came to an end, he pressed a kiss to her temple. Then he took her elbow and guided her back to the table where the others had taken their seats.
“Can I get you another beer?” he asked.
Leslie nodded.
Tag didn’t wait for the waitress to come take their order. He walked toward the bar and leaned his foot on the rail. He needed a moment or two away from Leslie. The more he was with her, the more he wanted to be with her. He wanted to hold her close and kiss her until they both needed a long, steadying breath.
He sighed.
Tag wasn’t sure she was ready for him to make his move.
* * *
Leslie sat beside Ava at the table, surrounded by their friends. She’d never felt so included as she did at that moment. At the same time, she felt like she didn’t quite fit in. Everyone else at the table was paired off. Everyone except her and Tag.
Ava leaned toward her. “I noticed you and Tag getting pretty cozy out there on the dance floor.”
Leslie glanced in Tag’s direction. She couldn’t deny the man was handsome. Nor could she deny that she was attracted. At that moment, Tag smiled at one of the waitresses.
Leslie’s heart pinched hard in her chest. How could she be jealous of a waitress, when she had no ties to Tag? He didn’t belong to her, and she didn’t belong to him. At that moment, Leslie found herself wishing she did belong to Tag. How weird would that be? Tag was her husband’s best friend.
“Earth to Leslie,” Ava said.
Leslie shook her head and turned to Ava. “Sorry, did you say something?”
Ava rolled her eyes. “Why are you bothering to date other men?”
Leslie frowned. “What do you mean?”
“You don’t need to date other men.” Ava tipped her head. “Everything you need in a man is right in front of you.”
Leslie glanced at her hands instead of the man at the bar. “Ava, I told you. Tag is my friend. I don’t want to screw up that friendship.”
“How are you going to screw up your friendship with Tag?”
“He’s been with me every step of the way since my husband’s death,” Leslie said. “If we throw in a romantic element between us, and it doesn’t work out, then what? That friendship will be compromised.”
Ava took Leslie’s hands in hers. “Sometimes, you gotta
take a risk.” Ava looked toward Tag. “Do you find him attractive at all?”
Heat rose up Leslie’s neck into her cheeks. “Of course, I do.”
Ava laughed. “There’s no ‘of course’ about it. I don’t find him attractive…well, as attractive as I find Sean. He is an attractive man. He just doesn’t appeal to me like my Sean does.”
Leslie sighed. “Yes, I find him attractive.”
“Then why don’t you go for him?” Ava asked.
Leslie shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m not ready. Maybe he’s too good for me.”
Her friend snorted. “You’re both good people. I believe you could make each other happy. I believe he could be your future baby daddy.” Ava looked at her. “Have you thought about that?”
Leslie watched as Tag came back across the floor, carrying two mugs of beer. Yes, she’d thought of him as the father of her children. And, immediately, she’d felt guilty. She had the sperm from her dead husband stored in a bank. “Randy and I had planned on having children. I still have the sperm we saved back when we discovered he was dying. What am I supposed to do? Just ignore them?”
“It’s just sperm. Frozen sperm, at that,” Ava reminded her.
“It’s more than that.” Leslie’s gaze still on Tag, she continued, “It’s like there are babies waiting at that sperm bank. Babies who are relying on me to realize the dream Randy and I had for children.”
“If you have those children,” Ava said, “you run the risk of complicating any other relationship you hope to have with another man. After all, it’s hard for a man to accept the children of another man.” Ava added quickly, “However, since Tag was a close friend of Randy’s, wouldn’t he be more accepting of Randy’s children?”
Leslie didn’t get the chance to answer that question, but Ava’s observation rolled around in her mind. How would Tag feel about raising Randy’s children? Was it fair of her to ask Tag to raise Randy’s children?
Tag arrived at the table and set the two beers down in front of her. “You must be thinking some very heavy thoughts,” he said.
“Why do you say that?” Leslie asked.
He brushed a thumb across her forehead. “You’re frowning.”
She focused on smoothing her brow. “Is that better?”
“It’s a start.” He held out his hand. “Ready to dance again?”
Emma grabbed Coop and dragged him toward the floor. Sean plucked Ava from her chair and joined them. Moose and Jane were next. Gage and Fiona followed. Even Emma’s brothers found waitresses to dance with. Everyone hurried to the dance floor for a line dance.
She glanced up at Tag, feeling vulnerable and overwhelmed. “I don’t know this dance.”
He smiled. “It’s the Cupid Shuffle. It’s easy. I’ll help you.”
“I don’t know,” she said, her thoughts roiling with everything she and Ava had discussed.
He held her hand tight in his, refusing to let her backslide into herself. “Come on, darlin’. One more dance.”
When he put it that way, how could she resist?
She couldn’t. Leslie let him pull her to her feet and out onto the dance floor.
Within moments, she was holding his hand, laughing and dancing along with the others. For a brief time, she could forget everything and enjoy the few minutes she spent with Tag.
When the song was over, she tugged his hand. “Take me home, please.”
His brow furrowed. “Are you feeling all right?”
No. “Yes. I’m just tired, and tomorrow will be a long day.”
He nodded. “Let’s say our goodbyes and hit the road.”
After hugging Emma and Coop, and waving at the rest of the group, Leslie and Tag took their leave and left the saloon, pushing through the crowd waiting outside for the doors to open to the public.
Leslie was glad they were leaving before the saloon was overrun by the usual Friday night crowd. She had a lot to think about, and a crowded room would only make it harder.
They’d been in the truck driving toward Austin for ten minutes before either one of them spoke.
Tag broke the silence with, “The wedding will be nice tomorrow. Coop and Emma make a great couple.”
“Emma deserves all the happiness,” Leslie agreed. “I’m honored to be a part of it.”
“Your wedding to Randy was much smaller,” Tag noted.
“We didn’t know a lot of people at the time. We had those who were important to us there.” She smiled across at him. “You were there.”
He nodded. “I’m happy for Coop and Emma, but I think I’d want a different kind of wedding.”
“Yeah?” She studied him from her side of the cab. “What would you do differently?”
“I’d have it at my ranch, surrounded by family and friends. A quick ceremony to tie the knot, and then a barbeque and music. No fuss. Not a lot of work.”
Leslie laughed. “Even that would be a lot of work. You’d want to have a photographer present to take photos of you and your bride. Someone would have to contract a DJ or band for your music. The barbeque wouldn’t happen on its own. Someone would have to cater to bring it in and clean up afterward. And you’d have to schedule a preacher, JP or someone certified to perform the ceremony.”
Tag’s lips twisted. “Wow. And I thought it would be simpler.” He shook his head. “I guess that’s why Coop and Emma hired Marjorie.”
“I talked with Emma when she started planning the wedding. That’s when we found Marjorie.” Leslie smiled. “She’s good.”
“I guess I’d have to do that as well. I wouldn’t expect my bride to be stuck with all the planning.”
“Unless she wants to do it,” Leslie murmured, thinking about the other dates BODS had matched him with. What if one of them was the future Mrs. Bronson?
Her chest tightened. She wanted Tag to be happy with whomever he chose as his bride. Though she wasn’t sure she was ready for such a big commitment for herself, in the back of her mind, her subconscious was waving her hand, saying, Pick me! Pick me!
They dropped into silence again, remaining there until they arrived at her house in Austin. Leslie didn’t wait for Tag to open the door for her. She pushed it open and dropped down out of truck. By that time, Tag had rounded the front and held out his hand to her.
She took it and let him hold it all the way up to the door. It felt right she didn’t let go, even when she handed him the key to her door. She held onto his free hand as he unlocked her front door.
Holding his hand felt so right that she didn’t want to let go. When Tag leaned down to kiss her cheek, Leslie turned her face at the last second.
Their lips met.
She leaned into him, wanting to know what it felt like to be kissed thoroughly by this man, to be held in his arms and pressed up against his body.
His hands swept down her back and pulled her close, their hips touching, the hard evidence of his desire nudging her belly.
She’d thought kissing Tag would feel weird, somehow a betrayal of her love for Randy. But it didn’t feel that way at all. It felt good, hot and addictive. She couldn’t get enough.
Leslie wrapped her arms around his neck and deepened the kiss, opening to him.
Tag’s tongue slipped past her teeth to sweep the length of hers, caressing hers in long, sensuous thrusts.
What had started as curiosity had morphed into frenetic lust that couldn’t be satisfied while they were on her front porch and fully dressed. She wanted to be naked with this man.
That thought entering her head served as a splash of ice water on her senses. She pulled free, her heart beating hard, her breathing ragged. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”
Tag reached for her. “Leslie—”
“No, it was my fault.” She shook her head. “I…I…have to go.” She dove past him into her house, slamming the door behind her.
She leaned against it, twisting the lock, without looking back. Not so much to keep him out, but to keep her from openi
ng the door and flinging herself into his arms.
What had she done?
A knock sounded. “Leslie. Open the door,” Tag called out softly.
She shook her head. “No,” she whispered.
“Leslie, I’m not sorry that happened,” Tag called out. “I’ve wanted to kiss you all night long.”
Tears filled her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. Her thoughts were a mess of what she wanted, what she’d had and how the hell she could unravel the two to make a future for herself.
“I’ll pick you up tomorrow,” Tag said. “And, Leslie, everything is going to be okay.”
“How can it be?” she murmured.
She heard his truck door slam and the engine start. When she was sure he’d gone, she left the door and walked through the house she’d shared with Randy, touching the photographs of the two of them together, staring at the one of all three of them. Finally, she entered her bedroom, toed off her cowboy boots, pulled one of Randy’s old flannel shirts from the closet and wrapped it around her shoulders.
He wasn’t there to tell her everything would be all right. Tag was doing that now. He wasn’t there to tell her that it was okay to kiss Tag. She had to come to grips with that on her own.
All she knew at that moment was that she missed Randy and hadn’t wanted to quit kissing Tag.
Man, was she messed up.
Chapter 9
Tag had headed to his penthouse apartment in downtown Austin after dropping off Leslie at her house. He was so wound up from her kiss, he couldn’t begin to settle down and sleep. Instead, he’d poured himself a whiskey and sat in his recliner, staring at a photo of himself, Leslie and Randy.
“Randy, if you didn’t want me to have her, you shouldn’t have left us so soon.” Tag tipped his glass, swallowing a long draught of the clear amber liquid. His gaze shifted to Leslie, with her sandy-blond hair, gray eyes and laughing smile. She was everything he needed and more. She made him want to be a better person.
He wanted to be with her, to take care of her and make her happy. She deserved all the happiness in the world. Which raised the question: Can I make her happy?
