Cade sat up a little straighter. “I never noticed anything special about him.”
“Yeah, me neither,” Tyler said, leaning back in his chair and putting his arm around the back of Lainey’s. Lainey patted his arm and smiled at him. He leaned over and kissed her, and Sarah glanced away.
“How are you feeling?” Cade asked softly. “Are you sure that wine’s going to agree with you?”
Heat stung her. She didn’t want his concern or his pity, and she hated that he’d seen her with her migraine. “It’s fine.”
“It’s actually organic and free of sulfites,” Hope said.
“Oh, great. Yeah, because all these people in here are going to drop dead tomorrow because of sulfite poisoning,” Dean said.
“Can you two not start?” Tyler said, shooting Dean a hard look. Dean shrugged and sat back in his chair, looking disgruntled but not disagreeing.
“I was thinking I might do some paperwork stuff on Monday. I’d like to organize that office. I have a long list of things to do. I probably won’t get out there with you guys until the end of next week.”
Something flickered in his eyes and his jaw clenched. “Okay, that’s not a problem. Let me know if you need help.”
“I won’t. You have your hands full anyway.”
He nodded. She was vaguely aware of the conversation floating around them, and Cade kept his voice low as he turned to face her. She wanted to reach out to him so badly and wished he felt the same way. “I’m glad you’re out with Lainey and Hope.”
Right. Because she needed friends. “I hope you don’t mind. I know they’re your friends.”
“No, no. I’m glad.”
“Great.”
“Tyler, my favorite song,” Lainey said loudly, drawing them out of their own private conversation.
Sarah pulled her gaze from Cade’s, happy for the distraction. Sitting so close to him reminded her of their night at the motel, how that had been the closest she’d ever been to anyone. And as the days went by, she ached for him. Though she still saw him all the time, the wall was up. He wasn’t approachable. That night, she’d had a glimpse of a man who was emotionally untouchable. But she still saw the sparkle in his eye as she teased him with the germy pillow, she still felt the strength in his warm body, his citrusy scent. She wanted it again.
Tyler grimaced and stood, holding on to Lainey’s hand. “You know I hate dancing, right?” But he’d already started moving in the direction of the dance floor, the question obviously rhetorical.
“We hate watching you dance, too,” Cade called after them, a small smile at the corner of his mouth.
Lainey tugged on Tyler’s hand, and he put his arm around her as they both walked to join the others on the dance floor. The soft, sultry sounds of the music only added to the palpable connection between Lainey and Tyler. She found herself watching them, wondering what that was like, that obvious attraction and comfort with each other they both had. She couldn’t imagine being that close, that connected to another person. Tyler bent his head and kissed Lainey. Sarah tore her gaze away, feeling silly and intrusive witnessing an intimate moment. That’s when she noticed the odd dynamic at her table.
Dean was steadily drinking his beer like it was soda, while Hope was motioning to the handsome bartender that she needed a refill of her wine. Sarah was pretty certain that her wineglass had been full before the guys had walked in.
“Sarah, do you like dancing?” Hope asked.
Sarah finished her own glass of wine. Desperate measures. She really wanted to have an answer that a normal person her age would have, but saying that she danced in her room, in her childhood home, by herself, was sad. “Oh, no. I have two left feet. I avoid dancing at all costs,” she argued.
“Cade loves dancing,” Dean said before lifting the glass to his mouth.
Sarah turned to Cade, shocked. He was sitting back in his seat, his legs stretched out in front of him, scowling at his friend. “We both know I’d rather be run over by a herd of cattle than dance.”
Dean barked out a laugh. “I know; it was just worth it to hear the remark. I’m the only one of us who can dance.”
“I can dance,” Hope said, sitting a little straighter, her eyes narrowing on Dean.
“Sarah, would you like to dance?” Dean asked her, ignoring Hope.
Sarah’s head was spinning. Something was happening here that was way beyond her knowledge base of these friends.
Suddenly, Cade stood. “No one deserves that kind of torture.” He held out his hand to her, and her mouth went dry. “Sarah, care to dance with me?”
Hope smiled, her eyes twinkling, and Sarah knew her new friend had done this on purpose. Sarah stared at Cade’s tanned hand in front of hers. As if she’d ever say no to a dance with him—well, a week ago that is. Now, things were different. She couldn’t just jump up and eagerly nod like an infatuated tween. This was the guy who’d turned her down flat.
She crossed one leg over the other and idly picked up her wineglass and then put it down when she saw that it was empty. “I’m not sure I actually feel like dancing. It’s probably too strenuous for someone with my delicate health issues.”
She spotted Dean smiling and leaning back in his chair from the corner of her eye. Hope was watching the exchange, wide-eyed. When she finally glanced up at Cade, his face seemed a little ruddy. “I’ll make sure you’re taken care of.”
“I don’t need a caregiver.”
“Fine.”
“Wait. Okay, I’ll dance with you for the sake of maintaining professional relations at work,” she said, finally standing.
His jaw seemed to clench harder at the sound of Dean’s laughter. She sighed loudly as she reached for his outstretched hand. Before they were out of sight, she noticed Hope standing while Dean had his head buried in his phone. As much as she wanted to think about her new friend, her mind was on the man who was leading her to the dance floor, the one whose large, warm hand was wrapped around hers as though he’d been holding her hand for years. She resented that he had this effect on her.
When they were enveloped by the crowd, he wrapped her up close enough that her body melted against his in a way that made her breath catch. His one hand grasped hers securely while his other wrapped around her waist. She wanted to rest her head in the crook of his neck or maybe, if she were someone else, would press her lips to the exposed, tanned skin of his throat.
She needed to stop thinking of him like this. Maybe if she looked up, they could engage in some kind of distracting conversation. He was probably irritated with her.
“I hope a herd of cattle doesn’t trample you tomorrow because of this dance,” she said.
“Right now, I’m thinking it’s worth the risk.” She felt his smile against the top of her head as he pulled her in closer. “I hope you’re not overexerting yourself,” he said, his voice laced with humor as his breath brushed against her ear.
She may have had a shiver run through her body. Maybe.
She cleared her throat and kept her head where it was. “I’m managing. If I didn’t have to keep avoiding having my feet stepped on, it might make the situation less taxing.”
“Taxing. Huh. There’s another word I haven’t heard in ages.”
She stiffened at the reminder that she basically had no life and was out of the loop on how people their age spoke. “Oh, is that supposed to make me feel bad? Fine. If I had more time, I’d try and become familiar with some more colloquial slang that you’re accustomed to.”
She felt him smile against the side of her head. “You started this.”
“No, you started this when you told me nothing could ever happen between us.”
“Ah, so this is all about that. If there’s one thing I could change, it would be that.”
She sucked in a breath and pulled back slightly to look up at him. His features were hard, and his eyes g
littered in that way they had at the motel.
She’d never once expected that he might reciprocate those feelings. Hoped, yes. Expected…well, that would have been more than she could have asked for. All the little things, the looks, the smile, that tip of his hat, that concern for her… She wanted it. But when he’d hinted at his life, she couldn’t see her fitting into any of it.
She knew she was smart; she knew she was capable and strong even though that was not how she’d been living. It was the other stuff, the other areas she was so lacking in…like real life. Up until last month, the only woman she spoke to daily was a very conservative widow who was seventy-five. All of this, these new friends, this bar, this man…this was so foreign and so right.
Maybe it was that deep, sensual voice that made her discard her inhibitions, but she met his aqua eyes. “You have second thoughts?”
“Every second of every day. The moment you closed the door and walked away from me. Lying in bed that night. Waking up the next morning. Yes, I have a helluva lot of second thoughts. Seeing you sitting there with Hope and Lainey when I walked in? Standing up here, holding you, feeling your body against mine? Second thoughts, second thoughts.”
“I thought it was just me,” she said softly.
He stopped dancing and wrapped his hand around the nape of her neck. “Never.”
He slid his hand down her arm and took her hand, then started walking back to the table. Her heart was beating so fast, she was grateful for the noisy bar. Every second of every day. So what was their plan? Was this what the rest of her life was going to be like? Falling for her foreman? It sounded like the name of a romance novel. Just before they walked up the steps to where their friends were, he stopped and turned to her. “What are you doing tomorrow afternoon?”
Stay cool, Sarah. “Things.”
His lips twitched, and she would have loved to reach up and kiss that mouth. “Important things?”
She shrugged and brushed some imaginary dust off her shoulder. “Depends who’s asking.”
“A…close friend.”
She tilted her head toward their table, not willing to let him off the hook. “I have lots of friends now, so…”
He laughed. “Okay. Me. Do you want to spend the afternoon with me?”
She needed some clarification so she didn’t get her hopes up. “On the ranch?”
He shook his head, his gaze going from her eyes to her mouth. “Technically, no.”
She hoped he couldn’t see how fast her heart was racing. “Fine. So we’ll do friendly things together tomorrow?”
He gave her a smile.
She smiled back at him. “All right.”
When they rejoined everyone at the table, the conversation was animated as they all placed food orders. She sat beside Cade as though he hadn’t just told her that he wanted her. Every day. And tomorrow, they were going out somewhere. Instead, she had to try and concentrate on the conversation.
“Here comes Aiden. Sarah, I’m not sure if you noticed the”—Hope coughed and leaned forward—“mysterious scar.”
Sarah’s eyes widened, and she tried not to laugh. She glanced over at the men, who were noticeably silent. Dean was frowning. Tyler was rolling his eyes. And Cade just looked perplexed.
“He’s so nice. He always does a little something extra for us,” Hope said. “He’s a great candidate for Sarah, and if not, maybe for me.”
Dean scowled at the man, and Cade’s eyebrows furrowed. “Is that so?”
“We don’t really know the origin of the scar,” Hope whispered, ignoring the men, her eyes a bit glassy from the wine.
“Oh, he didn’t come to your office for a scar-fixing potion?” Dean asked, leaning back in his chair.
Lainey choked on her wine.
“I don’t sell potions,” Hope snapped. “I’m not Gargamel.”
Dean shrugged, but Sarah was pretty certain he was fighting off a smile.
“I’m sure it’s no big heroic story,” Cade grumbled. “He probably got the scar from shaving.”
Tyler laughed. “Probably.”
Lainey elbowed him. “Quiet, he’s coming with our order.”
Everyone turned to Aiden. Sarah had to admit, he was quite good-looking, and there was a particular charm he had that was indeed mysterious.
“Hey, guys. Here’s your order. I don’t have time to talk—I’ve got a bit of a situation I need to deal with,” he said, efficiently passing their plates around the table.
“That’s fine, no need to linger here,” Dean grumbled.
“What’s the situation?” Hope asked, leaning her cheek on one hand.
Aiden let out a sigh and ran a hand through his black hair. “It’s live music night, and the band called in sick. I hate disappointing people, especially a full house,” he said.
“You should do karaoke!” Hope said.
Dean made a choking sound. “Not unless he wants to put up a foreclosure sign next week.”
Aiden laughed. “Yeah, I don’t think this is the crowd, Hope, sorry.”
Hope shrugged, picking up a fry. “No worries. Oh, wait, Sarah, didn’t you say you used to play piano?”
Sarah’s stomach dropped and she shook her head rapidly. “No…I mean, yes, technically I play, but I haven’t played in front of a crowd in more than a decade and come on, this isn’t exactly a piano soloist crowd,” she said with an awkward-sounding laugh, looking up at Aiden, hoping he’d agree with her. Why had she even mentioned that she played? Oh, right. Because she was awkward and didn’t know what to say to people.
Unfortunately, Aiden was already smiling. “Hell, that would be amazing. I’m sure you’ll win the crowd over. Live music is live music. What do you say? Piano is tuned and sitting over in that corner,” he said, nodding to the small stage.
Sarah put her elbows on the table for a moment, covering her face. She couldn’t do this. Everything about her music was wrapped up in memories of Josh, of the family that no longer existed. All the joy in her music had been buried with her brother. She didn’t think she could play without him.
She felt a hand on her shoulder and knew it was Cade. She turned to him, and he gave her a smile that made her forget their “nothing more than friends” arrangement.
“You can do it,” he whispered in that voice that made her feel like the only woman in the room.
“You’ll be great,” Lainey said.
“I promise we’ll cheer and give you a standing ovation after each song,” Hope said.
“I have to do more than one?” she croaked.
Aiden smiled. “You can stay up there as long as you want. But let’s say at least one song. Let the crowd decide.”
Great. How was this happening? Just a month ago, she barely knew a single soul besides Mrs. Casey, and now she had all these people in her life, pushing her out of her comfort zone. They believed she could do it. She turned back to Cade. “I’m going to make a fool of myself,” she said quietly enough that she hoped he was the only one to hear.
He leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on the side of her temple. “Never, you could never do that. Just let go,” he said in a voice so tender and so intimate that goose bumps flickered over her arms.
The only other person who mattered wasn’t here, but she already knew what he would’ve said. Josh would have already blurted out that of course she could do it.
Sarah took a deep breath, gathered her resolve, and looked up at Aiden. “Okay.”
“Yes! Thank you,” he said. “Come and I’ll walk you over there and introduce you.”
Sarah stood on jelly legs. Her new friends all called out that she’d do great, and Cade gave her a serious nod, his gaze following her as she walked with Aiden. “You don’t actually have to introduce me,” she said as they walked. “Maybe I could just start playing and no one would notice. I’ll start
soft and get louder.”
He gave a short laugh, his eyes sparkling with warmth. “Not a chance. I have a feeling you’re a person who should be introduced.”
“No, I’m really not. I’m more like the person who blends in with a crowd.”
“Then you’re short-changing yourself, darlin’. You’re going to win this saloon over after one song, I know it.”
She didn’t even bother arguing. He was very sweet and very charming. She almost laughed, knowing exactly what Hope and Lainey had been talking about.
They stopped in front of the piano, and he ran his hand over the dark, dusty top. “It’s a little beat-up, but it gets used regularly. Why don’t you sit down and warm up? Give me the thumbs-up when you’re ready, okay?”
Sarah nodded and pulled out the bench. She sat and immediately shut her eyes, then took a deep breath, the noise from the restaurant fading out. Focus. Stop thinking, stop worrying. She had been able to do that before with music. She could block everything out and only think about the notes in front of her. She could do it again. She could play for real.
She counted to ten and forced her eyes open. She placed her trembling hands on the keys, feeling the smooth ivory beneath her fingertips, letting the familiar sensation take her to where she needed to be.
A bead of sweat trickled down her spine, and she removed her hands, wiping her sweaty palms on the front of her jeans. She couldn’t focus. Couldn’t do this. Panic bubbled inside her, a wave of nausea hit her, and the urge to run gripped her.
Get it together, Sarah. Deep breath. You’re an adult now—you can play for you, and you can play for Josh.
She glanced over her shoulder and found Cade’s gaze, the reassuring strength in those aqua-blue eyes. The panic slowly eased. Turning back around, she reminded herself that she’d performed more than fifty recitals from the time she was five until…until Josh died.
Afterward, playing felt like grief, holding her hostage and weighing her down.
But there were other people here tonight, people she liked, people who were starting to care about her. As isolated as she’d been, she knew that this was right, being with people, with friends, caring about people. People needed people. Flawed and imperfect as she was, as they were, she needed them.
Cowboy For Hire Page 17
