Bryce sighed. “I sure hope so. By the way, everything’s set with Lou and he’s chopped the price down another ten percent.”
“Great news. Thank you.” She beamed at him. “See what I mean? You’re always looking out for me.”
“I try.” He looped the rope over his shoulder. “I’ll go get Winston.”
“Meet you out front.”
They took an easy route and didn’t rush. His mom was making sure she didn’t reinjure her leg with any fancy stuff. They talked mostly about the wedding until they reached the turn-around spot and headed back to the ranch riding single file.
His mom scooted around so she could look back at him. “I had more than one reason for asking you out here today.”
“What’s that?”
“I hope you’ll forgive me for being nosy, but are you interested in Nicole?”
He gulped and could feel heat climbing up his neck.
“I thought so. You were wearing one of your best shirts, and last night when the two of you went upstairs—”
“Her guitar string broke.”
“Oh.”
“That’s the only reason I took her up there. She didn’t have extras and I thought I might have a set of strings. I did, so I replaced it for her.”
“Good thing you had the strings, then.” She faced forward.
“Yep.” The clip-clop of hooves and the twittering of birds were the only sounds but he swore he could hear the wheels going around in her head. “Nothing happened.”
“I saw the way you were looking at her when she sang Breathe.”
Damn. He’d been so engrossed he’d been oblivious to the impression he might be making on people who knew him. “Do you think anyone else noticed?”
“Probably not. Everyone was focused on her, including you.”
“But you weren’t.”
“Mother’s intuition. I believe you that nothing happened while the two of you were in that apartment, but you came back looking dazed, as if something had almost happened. Then you refilled her water bottle and she smiled in that special way a woman does when she’s dazzled.”
“You think she’s dazzled?”
She turned in the saddle again. “I think you both are. That can be wonderful or a recipe for disaster.”
“I’m aware of that.”
“I know you are, son.” The trail widened slightly and she moved Licorice to the right. “Come up beside me so I can talk to you without twisting into a pretzel.”
He nudged Winston into a trot and eased him back to a walk once he was even with his mom. “If you’re worried that I’ll do something stupid, don’t be. For one thing, I don’t want to be her rebound guy, and for another, she lives with an attack cat.”
“She’s told me about Jimi. But like I said, I saw the way you stared at her last night. The cat’s not an obstacle for someone as creative as you. You could find a workaround.”
That made him chuckle. “It’s scary how well you know me.”
“I should. I’ve been on the job for twenty-six years.”
“And I appreciate the dedication you’ve put into the job.”
“Smartass.”
He laughed. “Don’t worry, Mom. I like Nicole a lot, but she only broke up with Ray a few weeks ago. That’s not long enough to recover. It’s taken me almost a year to get over Charity.”
“Are you over her?”
He glanced at her. “Yeah, sure.”
“You haven’t gone back to your music.”
He hesitated.
“You have?” Her face lit up.
“Only a little bit.”
“Oh, Bryce, that’s such good news.” Her blue eyes took on a maternal glow of pride he hadn’t seen there for months.
“But I couldn’t possibly get ready for the wedding. It’s coming up too soon.”
“That’s fine. It’s more important that you ease into the process.”
“Not everybody gets that. I’ve told Trev I’ve been plunking around. He noticed my fingertips were a little red. And I’ve told you, but—”
“I won’t say a word to anyone.”
“Thanks.”
“But since it’s just you, me, Winston and Licorice out on this trail… Is Nicole by chance the inspiration for this renewed interest in music?”
There was no point in lying when she’d likely guessed the answer. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Then you probably already know what I’m going to say.”
He sighed. “You’re going to warn me to be careful.”
“That’s right.”
“I will.” There. He’d promised his mom he wouldn’t go off the deep end. That should do the trick.
He replayed that conversation several times over the next couple of days. As sensible as his words to his mom had sounded at the time, he grew increasingly impatient to see Nicole again. That was a bad sign.
He dedicated himself to the task of auditioning bands, which kept him busy even if it didn’t make him forget about her. He’d talked Lou into putting him in charge of hiring a rotating selection of groups for the weekend slots. He’d gradually replaced the mediocre ones, but he wanted a top-notch country sound for the rehearsal dinner bash in two weeks. He hadn’t found it yet.
Friday night had a good turnout, but he and Mike handled it. The crowd was nothing like Nicole had brought in on Monday night, though. Maybe she’d come by. She’d said her embarrassment over the scene with Ray was gone now that she’d performed twice at the GG.
But she didn’t show at her usual time. Probably home cuddling with her cat from hell. He grinned. His mom sure had him pegged. If anything should develop with Nicole, not that it would, he’d figure out the cat issue. Every cat had his price.
“What’s so funny?” Mike put a couple of drafts on a tray.
“Oh, just thinking about a cat.” Bryce finished an Irish coffee order with a dollop of whipped cream.
“Some of those cat videos are a riot. I don’t even have a cat and I watch ‘em.” He grabbed two more glass mugs and filled them. “I never asked before. Did Lou supply you with cable in that apartment?”
“Nope.”
“Wi-Fi?”
“Nope.”
“That sucks. You’re living like one of those Buddhist monks in Tibet.”
“I don’t spend much time in the apartment.”
“I wouldn’t either if I didn’t have cable or Wi-Fi. What’s the point?”
“Exactly.”
“You should talk to Lou about it, though. That’s cruel and unusual punishment.”
“Maybe I’ll ask him.” Except now that he was fooling with his guitar, he had plenty to keep him occupied in his hideaway.
He started mixing a couple of appletinis. He could remember a time when the GG served mostly beer and sometimes house wine, but that was before tourists had discovered Eagles Nest. They liked the Old West ambiance, but they still wanted fancy cocktails when they had drinks in the down-home country bar.
Right after he set the appletinis on Jenny’s tray, he glanced at the corner table and there she was. Nicole Williams was in the house. Despite all the lectures he’d given himself about staying cool when she was around, he was short of breath. Maybe his mom had something to worry about, after all.
Chapter Seven
Nicole had rationalized the heck out of her decision to have a late dinner at the Guzzling Grizzly. She’d stayed at the salon an extra hour because one of her clients was desperate for a cut and color before the weekend. She was mostly out of food and she’d been too tired to shop. But not too tired to go home, shower and change clothes. She’d had plenty of energy to put on makeup and blow-dry her hair.
Walking into the GG, which was filled with light, music and the tantalizing aroma of food beat munching on cheese and crackers with Jimi, right? Then there was the gorgeous cowboy behind the bar who’d dressed in black tonight. He rocked the Johnny Cash look. What she wouldn’t give to hear him perform Ring of Fire.
Her favorite table in the far corner was occupied. She got one on the opposite side which put her closer to the bar. Not a bad trade.
Jenny was as friendly as all get-out. “What can I get you to drink? You can have something, right? Since you’re not performing?”
“But I’m driving. Maybe one margarita if I have some food to go with it.”
“Frank makes some amazing cheese enchiladas.”
“Then I’d love a plate of those plus a house margarita.”
“Coming up.” Jenny beamed at her. “It’s good to see you.”
“It’s good to see you, too.” She settled into her chair and listened to the band. They were good, better than most who’d played here. The lead singer was excellent, although she’d rather have Bryce up there. The concept of eventually hearing him perform had become a minor obsession.
Her margarita arrived with a small message attached to the lime slice with a plastic toothpick. If you can stick around, there’s fresh peach cobbler. She glanced up and saw Bryce watching her. She raised the margarita glass in his direction.
He smiled. Reply acknowledged.
He could have mixed her drink and sent it over without the message attached. His offer of peach cobbler suggested he’d missed her as much as she’d missed him. Was it wrong to want to spend time with him when they had so much in common? The longer she sipped her margarita, the more she was inclined to grab the opportunity and be grateful.
As Jenny promised, the cheese enchiladas were primo. Nicole had finished three-quarters of the food on her plate when a tall cowboy came to her table. He mentioned hearing her sing on Monday night and asked her to dance. She gazed up at him and fell back on an excuse one of her friends in Idaho Falls had taught her. “Thank you for asking.” She gave him her best smile. “But I have someone special in my life.”
“Oh. Is he sick?”
“No. He’s…working.”
The cowboy nodded. “I respect your loyalty to him, ma’am.” He touched the brim of his hat. “Enjoy your evening.”
“Thank you.”
The scene repeated itself several times. She hadn’t factored in being more visible to the male population of Eagles Nest after performing here.
Later, when she’d finished her meal plus her margarita and was sipping water while she waited for closing time, Bryce appeared at her table looking like a cowgirl’s dream in his all-black ensemble.
“It’s slowed down enough that I can leave Mike in charge.” He gestured to a chair. “Mind if I sit?”
“Of course not. Glad to have you.”
“I’m just curious.” He took a chair catty-corner from hers. “I noticed you’ve had a lot of guys asking you to dance and you’ve turned them all down. Don’t you like to dance?”
“I do, or rather, I used to. I’m out of practice, though. I didn’t feel like stumbling over some poor stranger’s feet.”
He gazed at her. “Guess it doesn’t take a genius to figure out why you’re out of practice.”
“No, probably not.”
“I have a few minutes and I’m not a stranger. Want to practice with me?”
She hesitated.
“Come on.” He held out his hand. “It’ll be fun.”
“Okay.” Nervous anticipation made her all fizzy inside as she put her hand in his and stood. “But I should warn you that if we go out there, all those guys who asked me to dance are liable to get the wrong idea.”
“Why’s that?”
She repeated her standard response to unwanted advances.
“So you pretended to be spoken for and they’ll think it’s me.” He shrugged. “I don’t care.”
“It wasn’t pretending. I do have someone special in my life. His name is Jimi.”
“Ah” He grinned. “But you said he was working. That’s not true.”
“Sure it is. He’s on guard twenty-four-seven. Even when you think he’s sound asleep, he’s not. One tiny sound and he’s up and investigating. In fact, just the other day, he—”
“You wouldn’t be stalling, by any chance, would you?”
She took a deep breath. “It’s just that the song is really fast and I’m worried that I’ll step all over you.”
“Then let’s wait for the next one. It’ll be slower.”
“How do you know?”
“I have psychic powers.” He squeezed her hand and let go. “Have a seat. I’ll be right back.” Skirting the dance floor, he stepped to the side of the stage and said something to the bass player who nodded as he continued to play.
She gazed at him as he walked back to the table with a loose-hipped stride. Yep, he’d be smooth out there on the floor. “What did you ask them to play?”
“Let’s Fall to Pieces Together.” He sat down next to her.
“Oh, Lord, it’s a waltz. I’ll screw that up for sure. I haven’t waltzed since…forever.”
“Look, if you really don’t want to do this, we don’t have to.”
“I really do want to do this. I used to love it. But I haven’t danced in so long that I’m not sure I’ll remember how.”
“Don’t worry. It’s like riding a bike.” He pushed back his chair as the song ended.
“It’s not anything like riding a bike.”
He stood and once again held out his hand. “Trust me. It’ll be fine.”
“If you say so.” Adrenaline poured through her as she followed him to the dance floor. For one thing, she could make a fool of herself. For another, they would be in close proximity for the length of the George Strait song, which was just shy of three minutes. Three minutes could be an eternity when a woman was trying to waltz and keep a lid on her libido at the same time.
“We had a special request from the manager,” the lead singer said. “Enjoy your waltz, Bryce.”
“Thanks, I will.”
Nicole glanced around at the deserted dance floor. “Wait a minute. Where is everybody?”
“Dunno.” Bryce scanned the crowd. “Hey, folks, we don’t need the floor to ourselves. You’re all welcome to dance this one.”
“Go for it, Bryce!” someone called from the back.
“Yeah, show us some moves!” another person yelled out. “We know you’ve got ‘em!”
Nicole panicked. “What are they talking about? Are you some sort of dance legend?”
“Nah.”
“But it sounds like—”
“Never mind them. At least we won’t run into anybody.” Placing his hand in the middle of her back, he drew her closer, but he left a small space between them. “Keep your eyes on me and follow my lead.”
She didn’t have much choice. Walking off the floor would be almost as embarrassing as stumbling through this dance with him. Lifting her chin, she met his gaze.
“You’ve got this, Nicole. Remember, it’s one, two, three, one, two three.”
She nodded. The music began and he applied firm pressure to her back. At first her movements seemed wooden in comparison to his fluid grace. She stumbled once, but recovered quickly. About thirty seconds in she got the hang of it.
At the one-minute mark she began to have fun. After two minutes, she was whirling and dipping with abandon. But she never broke the connection with those electric blue eyes as he spun her around and around the dance floor. When the music ended, he twirled her one last time. Then he stopped but didn’t let go. He was breathing fast but she was gasping for air.
Applause erupted from the crowd, along with a few whistles.
He smiled. “Like it?”
She smiled back. “Loved it.”
“We’ll have to do it again sometime.” His eyes sparkled as he gazed down at her. Then he escorted her back to her table, excused himself and went back behind the bar.
As she sat there fanning herself and drinking the rest of her water, several people came over to comment on the waltz demonstration. She assured them she’d just been along for the ride.
One of the cowboys who’d asked her to dance stopped by. “I did
n’t know the somebody special was Bryce McGavin!”
“Well, actually, he—”
“Makes sense, though, with you both being musicians. At least he used to be. If you can talk him into playing again, you’d be doing us all a big favor. I purely hate seeing talent like his going to waste.”
“Me, too. But I don’t know how much influence I have.”
He laughed. “I’ll wager you have a lot.” He tipped his hat. “Nice talkin’ to you.”
“Same here.” As he walked away she almost called him back to explain that the someone special in her life was a black cat with a monumental chip on his furry shoulder.
She doubted the cowboy would believe her. Not after the show that she and Bryce had put on. She’d lived in a small town all her life and she understood the dynamic. By tomorrow rumors would be circulating about the supposed matchup between the songbird and the bartender. Trying to squash those rumors would only make them pop up somewhere else like a game of Whack-a-Mole.
When the last customers drifted out the front door, she made her way over to the bar where Bryce and the other bartender were straightening up. She stuck out her hand. “I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Nicole.”
He wiped his hand on a bar rag before shaking hers. “I’m Mike. I didn’t catch your Sunday gig but I was behind the bar for the one on Monday. Awesome. People are still talking about it.”
“That’s good to hear.”
“Have you made an album yet?”
“Um, no. I’m not good enough to start thinking about that.”
“Are you kidding? Have you been online recently?”
“Truthfully, no.”
“Well, jump on there and listen to the garbage that’s out and then tell me you’re not good enough.”
“But I need original material. I’d rather not make an album covering other people’s work.”
“Good point.” He shot a glance at Bryce who was at the opposite end of the bar. Then he dropped his voice to a murmur. “He writes songs. I mean, he used to.”
“I know.”
“Just sayin’.”
A Cowboy's Heart (The McGavin Brothers Book 4) Page 6
