Fiona held out her cup and his fingertips grazed hers as he poured. Her expression left no doubt she’d felt them, too. Well, hot damn! At least he wasn’t rowing this boat alone.
“Deke thought we should leave at seven tonight. Is that okay with you?” Jud set the pot down.
“I suggest you hurry up and swallow the rest of that coffee and we get busy with what we got to do right now rather than worrying about tonight,” Truman said shortly.
“Sounds good to me.” Fiona’s voice had deepened. “Are we going to pick up Deke and the girls or what?”
Jud shook his head. “Everyone is meeting here so we don’t have to drive folks home.”
Fiona rolled her eyes toward the ceiling. “If they’re too drunk to drive, those girls are sleeping in Sharlene’s van.”
“Well, I should say so,” Dora June agreed.
“Hussies, the both of them,” Truman muttered.
“Now, Truman, it’s Christmas and besides the preacher said we have to love our neighbors. Where would we be if Katy hadn’t shown us some love and if these two kids weren’t being nice to us?” Dora June fussed at him.
“I don’t like Christmas and never will.”
Jud winked at Fiona and she gave him a thumbs-up.
Chapter Twelve
Cover charge, ten dollars. Beers for ladies on Friday night, three bucks. Since this was not a date, Fiona was insistent on paying her own way, though thirteen dollars was more money than she had spent on entertainment in more than a year.
“I’m buying the first round of beers to get us loosened up for dancin’.” Deke motioned for the bartender to bring them five beers.
“Thank you,” Fiona said.
Sharlene claimed the first one set on the bar. “Nothing better than a good cold beer drawn up in an icy mug.”
Mary Jo reached for the second one. “Unless it’s a single cowboy who’d like some company.”
Fiona cut her eyes around to Mary Jo, but neither she nor Sharlene were giving Jud a come-hither-and-sleep-with-me look. Deke downed part of his beer and zeroed in on a tall blonde across the room. By the time the band started the next song, he was hugged up so close to her that they looked like one person with two heads.
A short red-haired cowboy with freckles across his nose and a winning smile sidled up to Mary Jo and she wasted no time wrapping her arms around his neck and swaying to the slow country song the band played.
“See that lonesome cowboy in the corner? The one with the red and black plaid shirt? He looks like he needs to unburden his soul and I’m just the woman to listen to him.” Sharlene turned up her mug and drained it.
“You have a boyfriend,” Fiona reminded her.
“Won’t hurt to listen to troubles and have a few dances with him. I’m making you the guardian of my soul, Fiona. If I get drunk, carry me out, throw me in the truck, and take me home but don’t let me go home with that boy or anyone else.”
“I don’t want that job,” Fiona said.
Sharlene patted her on the cheek. “You don’t have to like it. You just have to do it or else you’ll suffer the consequences.”
“Which are?”
“I won’t have a boyfriend tomorrow and then I’ll go after yours,” Sharlene said just loud enough for Fiona’s ears.
“I don’t have one for you to go after,” Fiona said tersely.
“Bullshit!” Sharlene motioned for the bartender to bring her four shots of tequila and she expertly wove in and around the dancers until she reached her destination. The cowboy grabbed a shot in each hand and threw them back one after the other before he pulled out a chair for Sharlene.
Jud held out a hand. “Guess that leaves you and me. How ’bout a dance?”
“That’s what I came here to do.” She put her hand in his, much like she did most nights when he walked her across the landing. But tonight the excitement in the place, the loud music, the warmth in her belly from the beer all combined to make the vibes between them even hotter and wilder.
He led her to the edge of the floor, pulled her arms up around his neck, and then dropped his hands to the lower part of her back. The female singer in the band sang “Breathe” and every lyric in the song felt as if it were written especially for Fiona and Jud for that night.
When the song ended, a male singer took the microphone, and Jud buried his face in her hair and sang the lyrics to “Amazed,” along with the lead singer. Lord have mercy! Was every song going to be a love song? Was that all the band knew how to play and sing?
“I am amazed by you,” Jud whispered.
“Why?”
“Hell if I know, but like the man says, everything that you do amazes me more than the last thing you did,” he answered.
“Is that your best pickup line?”
“No, but wait.” He pulled her even closer and swayed to the next song. “This one is talking about a wild child with a whole lot of gypsy.” Then as the tempo picked up, he swung her out and brought her back to him in a twirl as the words said that she drove him wild. “That would be my pickup line if I was trying to talk you into going home with me. I’d ask you if you were a wild child with that gorgeous red hair and green eyes.”
Fiona laughed. “Where do you get this stuff?”
“Had lots of practice and tutoring from my older two cousins. They are the pros at women. Me, I just listened and learned, but they were the ones who were never going to settle down. I’ve always wanted to fall in love with the right woman.”
Fiona wasn’t sure how to answer that comment. Thankfully the female singer in the band stepped up to the microphone.
“Hey, you ladies, this one is for you. You cowboys plant your boots, stand still, and let the ladies strut their stuff.” The first guitar strands introduced “Any Man of Mine,” and the singer did a fine job of sounding like Shania Twain.
Fiona got lost in tormenting Jud with her dance. He folded his arms over his broad chest and he flirted with her with his eyes the whole time she twirled around him, gyrating to the beat, touching his cheek and running her hands across his wide shoulders. She was so involved in the dance that she didn’t notice when the rest of the dancers dropped out of the crowded circle one by one.
Shake a little more red in her hair and she could be Shania’s kid sister. The angles in her face were basically the same, but her smile was unique to Fiona Logan and she had far more curves than Shania did.
Jud couldn’t have taken his eyes off her if he’d wanted while she expertly moved to every word the singer belted out. Every time she touched him, he wanted to throw her over his shoulder and drag her back home. He didn’t want any of the cowboys in the place getting any ideas about her dancing like that for any of them. When she moistened those sexy red lips and ran her forefinger down his jawbone, he was so involved with her that he didn’t notice they were the only ones on the dance floor until the song ended and the applause started.
“Now, folks, let’s all get back out on the dance floor and you ladies stand still and let your cowboys show you their swagger.” The steel guitar came to life and the singer started Josh Turner’s “Your Man.”
Fiona started for the bar but Jud grabbed her hand and twirled her around to stand before him. “My turn. Listen to the words, darlin’.”
Jud’s granny always said what was good for the goose was good for the gander, so he moved slowly, teasing her with his eyes and his dance moves but not touching so much as her pinky finger. Her shallow breathing told him all he wanted to know.
When the song ended, they were alone on the floor again and the band broke into another Josh Turner song, “Why Don’t We Just Dance.” The singer told them this one was for both parties and it was a fast swing dance. Jud had never danced with anyone like Fiona. She totally lost her soul and body to the beat of the music, as if no one was around but her partner.
The scent of her coconut shampoo mixed with a floral perfume perfectly to take his imagination to a beach where they were dancing under the star
s. The sand was warm on their bare feet and his heart kept a steady beat with the sound of the ocean waves lapping at the seashore. He opened his eyes to realize they were in a bar full of people and not all alone on a deserted island with no one else around. His hand grazed the curve of her waist as he adjusted his hold on her and his breath caught in his chest. He’d held women in his arms, so why was this one different?
A question that would take some pondering but right then all he wanted was to never let go of Fiona, to dance off into eternity with her still in his arms. He remembered his conversation with the guys when they were painting. Not one of his previous women were anything near as hot as Fiona and none of them had ever made him turn a blind eye to everyone else in the bar.
Jud caught Sharlene’s eye as she was going back to the bar for more tequila shots and she winked. Deke bumped him on the shoulder during one dance. Jud dreaded giving up the best dance partner he’d ever had, but Deke just gave him a thumbs-up and two-stepped away with his tall blond lady.
The song ended and Fiona blinked, grabbed Jud’s hand, and started toward the bar. “I’m thirsty.”
He pointed toward the bottle someone was holding and then held up two fingers to the bartender. His long arm shot over the top of a dark-haired Latina beauty to get the beers. The sultry way she stared him up and down, starting a few inches lower than his belt buckle and then up to his face, would have had him inching closer to her a few weeks ago. Tonight he noticed, but he wasn’t interested.
When he turned around, Fiona was gone and the dance floor was filled with line dancers. He finally caught sight of her making her way through the crowd to Sharlene’s table. Taking the longer but faster route around the edge of the room, he made it to the table at the same time she did.
She took the beer when he offered it and sat down beside Sharlene, leaving him the one empty chair in the whole place. Sharlene touched Fiona on the arm, leaned over, and cupped her hand around Fiona’s ear to say something, threw back the last tequila shot, and patted the kid on the cheek when she stood up. Evidently, the therapy session was over and Sharlene was ready to dance.
“She’s a good lady,” the kid slurred.
“What’s your problem, cowboy?” Jud asked.
“Woman problems. What else would drive a man to drinkin’?”
Jud held up his beer and the kid nodded; then suddenly the dullness left his eyes and he pushed back his chair. A woman wearing a long denim skirt and a bright green Christmas sweatshirt stopped right in front of him. With her ponytail swinging and her mouth set in a firm line, she popped her hands on her hips and glared at the grinning kid.
He laid a hand on her shoulder. “Darcy, darlin’.”
She flipped it off like it was an irritating fly. “This is your last chance, Tommy. Next time, the wedding is off.”
“I’m so sorry,” he slurred. “I won’t ever do it again.”
“If you do, it’s over. Go home, sober up, and I’ll see you in church Sunday morning.”
“Will you walk me out to my truck?” he asked.
She took his arm and they disappeared into a fog of smoke and line dancers.
One of the perks of a loud bar is that a person has to get close to another to be heard when they speak. Jud moved his chair around so he was right beside Fiona and touched his beer bottle with hers.
“To never needing one last chance,” he said.
“Wonder how many chances he’s already had?”
“I’d say by the look in that girl’s eyes that it’s been too many. What’s the odds they’ll make it to the altar?”
“Pretty good. The girl evidently wants a wedding. It’s the odds that they’ll stay married that are slim,” she answered.
“Speaking from experience?”
“I didn’t give a damn about a wedding. Got married at the same courthouse where we got our divorce. So, no, I’m not speaking from experience.”
Deke slid into the chair the kid had left and set a fresh mug of beer on the table. “Band is fixing to take a ten-minute break, so figured I’d better get something to drink before the bar is so crowded that I couldn’t get to it. Y’all looked real good out there.” The last song ended with a fancy bit of play from the drummer and then the noise factor dropped by fifty percent.
“Thank you.” Fiona flashed a smile across the table. “I haven’t been dancing in such a long time.”
“How long’s it been since you were in a bar? Those fancy clubs in Houston don’t count, either. I mean an old country bar like this one.”
“Seven years,” she said honestly. “I had to use a fake ID last time, but you should remember that. You were with me.”
“Whole bunch of us had a good time that night, didn’t we?” Deke laughed.
The blonde tapped him on the shoulder and crooked her forefinger. “It’s hot in here. Let’s take our break out in the cool air. Maybe in your truck? I bet you’ve got a really big truck.” She all but drooled on his shirt.
“I came with some other folks, so I don’t have a truck here,” Deke said.
“Then we’ll see if my car is big enough to hold a sexy cowboy like you,” the woman said.
Deke pushed his mug across the table. “Here, Fiona—don’t let this go to waste.” Then he was gone into the same fog that the kid and his girlfriend had vanished in.
“It’s cold out there? They’ll either freeze or die of carbon monoxide poisoning if they leave the car running long enough for…” She hesitated as a blush worked its way up from her neck to dot her cheeks with crimson.
“I don’t think either of them is going to mind the chill in the air or stay long enough to die of any kind of poisoning,” Jud chuckled. “You ever go outside to cool off after dancin’?”
“Honey, I was only in a bar twice. Once on graduation night and then again the weekend I left for college. My life plan was set in stone and I didn’t have time to screw around with boot-scootin’ cowboys in those days.”
“And now?” he asked.
“And now I’m enjoying this night and not thinking about any of that. I’ve figured out that even the best laid plans can be wrecked.” She picked up Deke’s beer and tasted it, then went back to the bottle. “But nowhere in any of my plans, past, present or future, do I expect anyone to crawl up on the water tower and paint ‘Dry Creek, Texas, home of Fiona Logan’ on it in John Deere green or even Christmas red.”
“Hey, can we sit with y’all?” Mary Jo and her red-haired fellow, each holding a margarita, appeared behind Deke’s chair.
“Sure thing. Got room for two more folks here,” Jud said.
“Tables are hard to get,” Mary Jo said. “Y’all, meet Scooter. Scooter, these are my friends Jud and Fiona.”
Scooter tipped his hat and held a chair for Mary Jo. “Pleasure to meet you.”
“Likewise.” Jud nodded.
“Who left their beer?” Mary Jo asked.
“Help yourself to it. Deke’s cooling off outside,” Jud answered.
Mary Jo’s laughter was loud enough that several people turned to look in their direction. She slapped a hand over her mouth until she could get control, then picked up the pint glass and downed half the contents. “Poor old Deke. I know that woman he’s dancing with. He’d best be careful or he’ll be listening to the pitter-patter of little feet. She’s got wedding dresses on the brain right now.”
“Seems like everyone does,” Fiona said.
“You got something to tell us?” Mary Jo pushed her brown hair behind her ears and licked the salt from the rim of the margarita glass.
“Not me! The band is getting set up again. I came to dance,” Fiona said, taking a long swig of her beer and then standing up.
“We’ll hold the table.” Mary Jo moved close enough to wrap her arms around Scooter’s neck and share the taste of salt with him through a long kiss.
The two singers each picked up a microphone, but the woman did the talking. “And now for the next hour we’re going to kick off the ho
liday season with country music Christmas songs, starting off with Blake Shelton’s version of ‘Jingle Bell Rock.’”
Fiona’s moves were right on, but her heart and soul weren’t in it like before. Now she was more aware of Jud. Never, not even one time, had Fiona not been able to get lost in the music. It didn’t matter if her partner was smooth on his feet or if he stumbled through the steps, she loved the way the music made her feel. But tonight the sound of the guitars and drums took a backseat to the way Jud held her against his buff body. Melting into him, listening to his heart beat against her breasts, feeling the heat of his hands on the small of her back was more important than the rhythm of the steel guitar and the drums. When that fast song ended and “White Christmas” started, Jud pulled her into his arms and started a slow waltz.
“Have I told you that you are beautiful tonight?” he asked. “That green shirt is the exact color of your eyes.”
“Thank you,” she mumbled.
“What are you thinking about? Your face is a mixture of emotions right now,” he asked. “Are you tired of dancing?”
“Not at all. I’d forgotten how much I missed this,” she answered.
“We could do this every weekend,” he said. “Talking about dancing put a happy look on your face.
“Hey, don’t tempt me.” She smiled. “Do you read all women so well or am I that transparent?”
“It must be the vibes between us. You can’t deny that they are there,” he said.
“Let’s talk about something else or just dance.” She tucked her head into his shoulder.
“Long as you are in my arms and we’re dancing, we can talk about anything. Do you want a white Christmas?”
“Do you?” she asked.
“I don’t care if it snows on Christmas or if it’s eighty degrees and the sun is shining. I just want family all around us.” He stepped back, did some fancy footwork, and twirled her around a couple of times. “This is good holiday music.”
“I like Blake Shelton. Met him once, and he’s as country as his songs,” she said.
Merry Cowboy Christmas Page 14
