J.D. turned to Jenna. “Would you like a drink? I’m buying.”
“You shouldn’t spend your money on me.” She knew he’d gotten an advance on his pay, but it wasn’t much.
“Are you kidding? I owe you more than a drink.”
She offered a smile. “You owe me a dance, too.”
His smile matched hers. “First a drink.”
She considered white wine, but changed her mind. “I’ll take a longneck.” She motioned to his bottle. “The same kind you’re having.”
“I’ll get it from the bar. It’ll take the waitress forever to work her way over here.” Before he left, he finished his beer, which apparently had been almost gone. One last swallow.
He stood up, and she watched him walk away. He had an awfully cute butt. But before someone caught her admiring his backside, she turned her attention to the people she was with and noticed that Manny had eyes for Maria. She seemed flattered by the attention, leaning toward him when he talked and laughing at silly things he said. Now she understood why Manny had orchestrated this get-together. He wanted to make something happen with Maria.
J.D. returned with Jenna’s beer. She thanked him and noticed that he’d gotten himself another one, too.
She hoped that he didn’t overindulge. It was bad enough that she’d assumed he was drunk when she’d first seen him, lest it come true this evening. She still knew very little about J.D and his habits. Of course he knew little about himself, too. Each day was a new exploration.
Earlier, he’d joked about having Doc tranquilize him, and she’d laughed at the time. But it wouldn’t be funny if he got carried away.
Luckily, he didn’t. He sipped his second drink slowly.
“We should share a toast,” he said.
“To what?”
“Us spending the night together.”
She blinked at him. She also felt her skin flush. Suddenly, she was racked with heat. Her nipples shot out like bullets against her bra, too. “We’re not spending the night together.”
“That isn’t what I said.”
“Yes, it is.”
“No, it isn’t,” he countered. “I said that we were spending the night out together.”
“You left off the out part.”
“I did? Are you sure?”
She nodded. She knew the difference.
“It’s noisy in here. Maybe you misheard me.”
“You goofed up, J.D.” He’d made a Freudian slip or whatever mistakes like that were called.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize...” He fidgeted with his beer.
Now she wished that she would have kept quiet. “I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have pointed it out.”
The subject was dropped, but that didn’t ease the moment.
Just when she thought it couldn’t get any worse, Manny glanced across the table and said, “When are you guys going to dance?”
“In a while,” J.D. responded.
“You don’t look like you’re having a very good time.” Manny cocked his head. “Either of you.”
Jenna piped up. “We’re just being quiet while we finish our drinks.”
“Liquid courage,” J.D. said. “I’ll probably suck out there.”
Manny replied, “You should have done a test run at the ranch and danced around the cabin.”
J.D. made a face. “Now how stupid would I have looked?”
“Pretty dang dumb.” The other man grinned. “But at least you would’ve known if you were any good.”
“I don’t think it would have been the same without a partner. I won’t know until I try it for real.”
“We’re going to dance later, too,” Manny said, and moved closer to Maria. “We’re waiting for the songs we picked to play.”
He turned back to the rest of the group, leaving J.D. and Jenna to their silent agony. Heaven help her, but she wanted to spend the night with him, to make love, to sleep beside him in the dream cabin. But she knew that being with him would create emotional havoc. Dallying with a man who was destined to disappear from her life wasn’t part of her get-married-and-have-babies plan.
“Should we pick some songs, too?” he asked. “It might help us relax.”
She appreciated his attempt to make things better. “Sure. Let’s give it a try.”
He stood up, and like a knight in shining armor, he pulled back her chair. “Chivalry” was one of the husband-requirements on her list. She frowned to herself. As always, her list was tucked away in her purse.
They proceeded to the digital jukebox and waited for the people in front of them to make their selections.
When their turn arrived, he said, “I like the old-style jukes better.”
“Me, too. But we live in a digital world now.”
“Some things should remain the same.”
Like chivalrous men, she thought, fighting another frown. Tonight, of all nights, she shouldn’t be referring to her list, especially since J.D wasn’t in the running.
He scanned the songs. “The jukebox might be new, but at least the music is classic country.”
She stood beside him. “Oh, I love this song.” She gestured to “Breathe” by Faith Hill.
“That’s a romantic one.”
“I wasn’t suggesting that we dance to it. I was just saying that it’s a favorite of mine.”
“Do you like this one, too?” He pointed to Faith’s duet with Tim McGraw called “Let’s Make Love.”
“Now you’re being smart.” And making a naughty joke about his Freudian slip. “You and that wicked sense of humor of yours.”
He flashed a dastardly smile. “Are you brave enough to dance to it with me?”
Was she?
“Are you?” he asked again.
Why not? she thought. At this point, it seemed better to acknowledge their chemistry than try to avoid it. “Go ahead and push the button. But we’ll probably smolder on the dance floor and make everyone jealous.”
“If I don’t step all over your feet.”
“That would certainly ruin the ambience.”
“I can’t guarantee it won’t happen.” He chose the song. “Any more?”
“I think one is enough, considering. Don’t you?”
“Yeah. We probably shouldn’t bite off more than we can chew.” They stepped away from the jukebox and he said, “Did you know that Manny has a thing for Maria?”
She looked across the room and toward their table. “Yes, I noticed that he’s into her. She seems to like him, too. They’ll probably start dating after tonight.”
“That will make Manny happy. Who knows how long it will last, though?”
“They’re young. They have lots of time to find who they’re meant to be with.”
“Do you think everyone is meant to be with someone?”
“No. But only because some people seem happier when they’re single.”
“I can’t imagine being married. Just thinking about it makes me panic.”
Absolute proof that they were wrong for each other. “It has the opposite effect on me. The thought of being married makes me feel calm.”
“Do you have the ceremony planned out in your mind? The style of dress you’ll wear and whatever else women daydream about?”
“Actually, I don’t. I purposely haven’t done that. Otherwise the wedding becomes more important than the marriage.”
“That’s a grounded way of thinking.”
She appreciated his praise and even preened a little. “Thank you.”
“Look at you. All pretty and smug. I still think your list is goofy.”
“You’re just miffed because I won’t let you see it.”
“Has anyone seen it?”
“I sho
wed it to Tammy after she and Doc got together.” She’d needed to confide in someone, and Tammy had been the logical choice. Sharing it with Donna would have been way too awkward.
“Can you blame me for wanting to see it? How am I supposed to leave the Flying B without knowing what type of man Jenna Byrd wants to marry?”
“You can come back someday and meet my husband.”
“And tell him that we danced to ‘Let’s Make Love’?” You should pick that for your wedding song.”
“Ha, ha. Very funny. And for the record, we haven’t danced to it yet.”
“We will. But if I’m a lousy dancer, it’s going to ruin the song for you.”
Maybe having it ruined would be better than feeling its sensual effect, she thought.
Just then, “Save a Horse (Ride a Cowboy)” came on, adding a bit of fuel to the fire. What timing. The crowd exploded with hoots and hollers and country wildness.
J.D. gestured to the table. “Hey. Manny and Maria are getting up.”
She followed his line of sight. Sure enough, the younger couple was headed toward the dance floor.
“They must have picked this song,” J.D. said.
“So it seems.”
“Can’t say as I blame them. They’ll probably have a great time with it.”
Jenna nodded. No doubt they would.
He kept watching. “Yep. There they go.”
She watched, too. They were definitely having a great time. Whenever Maria would bump her hips, Manny would flash a big happy grin and mimic her movements. Jenna couldn’t fathom scooting around to the song, while she was in the presence of the cowboy she’d vowed not to ride.
“Should we go back to the table?” he asked.
She nodded, and they resumed their seats. Then J.D. leaned over and quietly asked, “Do you think it’s becoming obvious that we’re attracted to each other?”
“Obvious to whom?”
“Whoever is around us.”
She glanced at the Flying B employees who were left at the table. “I’m sure it will be when we dance. We’re going to smolder, remember?”
“If I don’t blow it.”
“You won’t.”
“They’ll probably talk about us.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Instead of fretting about the curiosity that would ensue, she justified being gossiped about. “It’s just an innocent flirtation. It’s not as if we’re going to go home together tonight.”
He turned quiet, and the anxiety of waiting for the song they’d picked was almost too much to bear.
Then, about fifteen minutes later, it happened. The first melodic chords of “Let’s Make Love” began to play.
Their gazes locked. Hard and deep.
It was time for them to dance.
Chapter Six
J.D. reached for Jenna’s hand. “Ready?” he asked, even if he wasn’t sure if he was ready himself.
“Yes.” She accepted his hand and they walked onto the dance floor.
He took her in his arms and drew a blank. Here he was, holding a beautiful woman, and he still didn’t know if he could dance. He couldn’t seem to move, so he simply stood there, locked in position.
“Are you all right?” she asked.
“I’m more nervous than I thought I’d be.”
“Do you want to forget it? You’re under no obligation to—”
“No. I want to try.” He listened to the melody, the lyrics, the singer’s voice, letting those elements guide him. Slowly, he began to relax and dance with her.
A gentle, heart-stirring two-step.
Mercy, they were good together. Beyond good. Beyond imagination. They gazed at each other the entire time.
“You absolutely know how to do this,” she said.
So did she, but her skills were never in question.
As they rocked and swayed, the other dancers barely existed and neither did the bar. Everything was out of focus, melding into misty colors and scattered light. All he saw was Jenna, her fair skin and golden hair.
He brought her closer. “I’m glad I met you. I’m even glad I lost my memory.”
“I’m glad we met, too. But you shouldn’t say that about having amnesia.”
“It’s giving me a chance to start over.”
“This isn’t starting over, J.D. It’s a break from your other life.”
“I don’t care about my other life.”
“You shouldn’t say that, either. It’s important to care about who you are.”
How could he care about something he couldn’t remember?
They didn’t talk anymore, and he was grateful for the silence. He didn’t want to disturb the bond. He wanted the luxury of knowing her in this way.
He was in the moment. He was part of it. John Doe and Jenna Byrd, he thought. He danced with her as if his amnesia depended on it, the heat between them surging through his veins.
This was a memory he would never forget.
When the song ended, his vision cleared and the bar came back into focus. But it didn’t put him on solid ground. He longed to kiss Jenna, to taste her ruby-
red lips.
“I need some air,” he said. “How about you?”
“Definitely.” She looked as dazed as he felt.
He escorted her outside, and they stood in front of the club, with a view of the parking lot. Other people were out there, too, standing off to the side and smoking, the tips of their cigarettes creating sparks.
Speaking of sparks...
J.D. was still feeling the fire. Apparently so was Jenna. Her voice vibrated. “I warned you that we were going to smolder. I’ve never danced with anyone like that before.”
“I doubt I have, either.” He struggled to put it in perspective. “How long do you think that song was?”
“Three, maybe four minutes.”
“That’s nothing in the scheme of things.”
“I know. But it was beautiful.” Her eyes drifted closed.
“Maybe you really should use it as your wedding song.”
She opened her eyes. “I could never do that, especially not after dancing with you to it. That wouldn’t be fair to my husband.”
“Would it be fair to him if I became your short-term lover?” He couldn’t help it. He wanted to have a dazzling affair with her. “I’d be good to you, the best lover I could be.”
“I’m sure it would be amazing.” She crossed her arms over her chest, and the protective gesture made her look achingly vulnerable. “But if we slept together, it would complicate my feelings for you, and I would miss you even more after you’re gone.”
Her reaction made him feel guilty for suggesting the affair. But he still wanted to be with her. Regardless, he said, “You’re right. It wouldn’t work. It wouldn’t solve anything. We need to focus on being friends, like we agreed on from the beginning.”
She nodded, but she didn’t uncross her arms. She still looked far too vulnerable. He wanted to reach out and hold her, but he refrained from making physical contact. He’d done enough damage for one night.
He glanced at the smokers. They kept puffing away. As he shifted his attention back to Jenna, the headlights from a departing car shined in his eyes. He blinked from the invasion.
“I’ve never actually had an affair,” she said.
He blinked again. He hadn’t expected her to offer that kind of information.
She continued, “I’ve only been with two men and they were my boyfriends. Neither of them was right for me, though.”
“They weren’t husband material?”
“I thought they were at the time, but I misjudged them. That’s part of why I created the list. I needed something definitive to use as a guide. I’ve always had specif
ic ideas about family, considering how messed up mine was, and writing everything down was the best way I knew to stay focused on my priorities.”
He considered the time line. She’d told him that she’d started the list when she was twenty-five and she was thirty now. “You haven’t dated since then?”
“Yes, but just casually.”
“So, you’ve been celibate for five years?”
“I’d rather wait for the right man. Besides, I haven’t been overly attracted to anyone, not until...”
Dare he say it? “I came along?”
“Yes.”
He blew out a gust of air from his lungs. She did, too, only in a softer manner. Still, they were mirroring each other.
Then, awkward silence.
The smokers stamped out their cigarettes and returned to the club, making it quieter.
More awkward silence.
“Maybe we should go back inside, too,” he said.
A strand of hair blew across her cheek, and she batted it away. “I think I should go home, J.D.”
And get away from him and their madly wrong-for-each-other attraction, he thought. “I’ll walk you to your truck.”
“Thanks.” She led the way.
They didn’t speak. The only sound was their booted footsteps.
Once her pickup came into view, she stated the obvious. “We’re here.” She hit the alarm button on her key fob.
If they were dating, this would have been the time to kiss her.
He made a point of keeping his distance. “Be safe.”
“I will.” She got in her truck and started the engine.
As she drove away, he gazed into the dark, feeling much too alone.
* * *
Jenna paced her room and finally ended up in the kitchen, heating milk in a pan on the stove. When she was little, her mother used to give her warm milk and now she thought of it as comfort food.
She poured it into a coffee mug and wandered the halls in her pajamas. It was after midnight, and she didn’t expect to run into anyone else at this hour.
She was wrong. She noticed that one of the empty guest-room doors was open and a light was on. Jenna poked her head in and saw her sister.
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