Then she abruptly turned, took a few steps toward him and stepped right into Jared's arms.
“Oh!” she said, her eyes opening wide, surprised.
Jared instinctively tightened his hold on her as both his arms wrapped around her, then felt a sudden overload to his senses. In the briefest of moments, he was shocked to find his body responding to her, instantly aroused. In another timeless moment he breathed in her perfume, some part of him wanting to remember the scent of her. Silky hair draped over one of his arms and he felt a hint of soft, warm flesh against the other. He realized his lips were automatically parting, ready to kiss her. What the hell?
Just as quickly, Jared snapped back to reality and pulled his body a several inches apart from hers, lessening the intimacy, though he immediately missed her warmth.
“I'd say you look like you just might be ready for a real dance partner,” he said. Adjusting his grasp, he placed the woman’s right hand in his left, and lifted her other hand to rest on his shoulder, smoothly guiding her into a proper dance embrace.
“Most guys start out with the quick one-two part first.” He looked down toward the deck, seeing how tiny her feet looked in front of his own, now wishing he’d at least polished his dusty, black boots. “Ready? Watch our feet. One-two, one...two. One-two, one...two. That's it.”
He looked up and watched as she forced a weak smile. He knew she was embarrassed, but even so, she didn't miss a beat.
“By George, I think she's got it,” he said in an exaggerated British accent, hoping to make her laugh. No such luck.
She returned her gaze to their feet, matching the movements, seemingly too mortified to look up for more than a few nanoseconds at a time.
***
Lacey stared at the blue-jeaned legs and the plain black boots. The boots looked comfortable and worn. But in a good way, she decided. Then she allowed her gaze to drift upward to the red western-style shirt of her unexpected dance partner.
At her eye level, a fine gold chain lay nestled in the dark chest hair at the open collar of his shirt. She could just make out a charm hanging from the chain. It was one word: Jamie.
Lucky girl.
Lacey inhaled nervously, forcing her gaze to stay level with her dancing cowboy's neck. Part of her desperately wanted to run screaming to her car, to forget her entire plan. Surprisingly, another part of her felt grateful for the forced first dance. It lessened at least some of the pressure she felt, relieved that her first dance wasn’t on the crowded dance floor and instead was out on the deck with this stranger.
Breathing deeply, in addition to the jasmine she identified the man’s scent as a mixture of apricot soap and a light cologne she recognized but couldn't quite place. A couple more breaths and she actually found herself relaxing enough to fall into a comfortable rhythm. When the music ended she glanced up into intense blue-gray eyes.
A voice called from the doorway. “Jared, we have to start in ten minutes and Luke's mike isn't working. You wanna get your butt in here and bail us out?”
He released his hold on her and stepped back. “Duty calls.”
She quickly turned to leave, thankful for the interruption that called him into the club. Though, she had to admit, there certainly was a part of her that would have liked to have danced a tiny bit little longer.
“You dance just fine,” he said, his voice fading a little at the last word as though he maybe had more to say.
“Thanks.” She turned to face him and managed a smile, then grasped the railing and hastily made her way down the steps and into the parking lot. Okay, Kandy, this is where you're supposed to show up and save me from embarrassing moments like this.
In comparison, the anonymity of the crowded club now seemed much more appealing as she made her way around the corner to the front entrance, leaving her dance partner behind to save the band from looming technical disaster.
Logic said maybe Kandy was already inside so she headed to the entrance where a small line had formed now that the band had arrived. Lacey waited behind a group of women wearing skin-tight jeans and skimpy tank tops showing a lot of skin, their breasts barely covered. The entire group was being carded as they went inside and she wondered if this generation had perfected fake I.D.’s. They sure looked young enough to need them.
“There's a ten-dollar cover charge tonight, ma'am, for the band,” a voice said as she reached the head of the line.
Lacey involuntarily winced at the “ma’am” but then decided it probably wasn’t intended to make her feel old. Looking up, she stared at the man who’d spoken, then took in a quick breath. She had an extensive male clientele at Shear Delight, but none compared to the head-turner who was holding out his hand, waiting for her money. His eyes were an almost too bright turquoise blue—contacts, maybe? Long, layered blond hair was expertly blown dry. His black hat was tipped back, revealing a clean-shaven face except for a soft, droopy mustache. A handsome cowboy with a baby face, dimples and all.
She smiled. This guy certainly looked like the quintessential cowboy. Glancing for a wedding ring, she saw none, then reached into her bag for a ten, feeling a rush of warmth in her cheeks along with a few unexpected butterflies in her stomach.
“First time here?” he asked
Lacey nodded.
“Thought so. I think I would have remembered a pretty little thing like you. What's your name, pretty lady?”
Was his smile friendly or just a tiny bit more than that? She quickly dismissed her thoughts, deciding she was just overreacting. Truth was, the only men she was used to being around these days were in her work environment. And there, well, she was always in control. The way she liked it.
Relax. Forcing herself to keep smiling, she realized how out of practice she was in handling a simple social situation. How sad was that?
“What's your name, pretty lady?” he repeated, his gaze never leaving her face.
“Lacey.”
“Pretty girl, pretty name. Well, I'm Hank, Lacey. Welcome to the Rockin’ Ranch. We’ve got a great band tonight and you better watch out for all those wolves on the dance floor, if you know what I mean. I'll keep an eye on you—and you just let me know if I can be of service tonight.”
Lacey marked his words as cordial, resisting her first impression that he was giving her extra attention. After all, she was a first timer and it was perfectly appropriate for him to be friendly to her…or any other woman coming into the club, right? He probably was the same with every female who came through the door.
He took her money, then held her hand in his—giving it a flirty swipe with his thumb before he stamped a red star on her wrist to prove she’d paid the cover charge.
“Catch ya later, Lacey.” Hank offered a sweet, dimpled grin, released her hand, then turned his attention to the group waiting behind her.
Definite possibilities, she thought, ignoring the flutter in her stomach from his touch. He was handsome and confident. Two traits that would be ideal. She’d look for him later when he wasn’t working the entrance, when he might be more apt to listen to her request.
Lacey squared her shoulders and took a few steps into the noisy room and looked around to see if Kandy and the others had somehow arrived and she hadn’t noticed. Maybe Kandy had tagged along in a friend’s car.
After scanning the room, there was still no sign of her.
Taking in yet another calming breath Lacey reminded herself she certainly should be able to walk into a bar alone without falling apart. Her insecurities were getting ridiculous. Really.
And she hated that she felt so out of place, but, the truth was, every part of her didn't want to be there. Now she wished she’d backed out of the assignment altogether.
Now what? Well, either get a drink or find the bathroom, she decided. She chose the latter, gazing around the room, looking for a restroom sign.
Finally spotting the bathrooms, she paused a moment to prevent from stepping into the path of a waitress carrying a tray crowded with frosty glasses
of amber-colored beer. Instantly Lacey recognized her as a regular client from the salon. Perm four times a year, highlights during the winter.
The woman caught her gaze. “Well, hi, Lacey! I've sure been meaning to call you. I need to make an appointment before my sister's wedding next month.”
Lacey smiled and immediately felt more at ease, slipping comfortably into her stylist persona. “Call me Monday, Gloria, I'm sure I can squeeze you in.”
“Are you here by yourself or are you meeting someone?” Gloria shouted as she served half the drinks on her tray to the table next to Lacey. “Do you want a drink? A beer?”
“Meeting friends,” she responded, then added, “sure—a dark beer, I guess. Negra Modelo?” Lacey had to pretty much scream her answer as the volume of the music increased while Gloria finished unloading her tray.
“Stay there, I'll be right back.” Gloria turned away and headed to the bar.
Lacey scanned the room again for Kandy, just in case. I can do this. I can do this.
Within just a couple minutes, Gloria returned with a bottle of beer. “This one's on me. See you later.”
Lacey smiled her thanks and watched as Gloria expertly worked her way through the crowded room toward the dance floor. A few couples were already two-stepping to the recorded music, waiting for the band to finish setting up. On the left-hand side of the stage she noticed her dancing cowboy working his magic, unwinding a microphone cord as he nodded reassurance to the rest of the band who stood nearby watching, arms folded against their matching red-shirted chests.
She let out a little sigh. Too bad, she thought, reluctantly checking him off her prospect list. As always, she’d noticed his hair, which was a nice texture—though a little conditioner would make it even better, she decided. The slightly callused hand that had held hers during their dance had definitely felt like he worked for a living. Arms muscular beneath his red shirt, skin tanned. Really pretty eyes and an easy smile. Surprised she’d noticed so much, she felt an involuntary blush heat her cheeks. No, her dancing cowboy was obviously attached, according to the name charm he wore at his neck. Too bad, she thought again, thinking too that he would have been so easy to ask…somehow she’d felt he would be as easy to talk to as he’d been to dance with.
After another sigh, she looked to the right of the stage again at a neon sign pointing out the women's bathroom near the back door. Hoping for a little liquid courage, she took a few healthy swallows of her beer, then made her way to the other side of the huge room straight toward a line of men who loitered just outside the Ladies' Room.
She straightened her posture and walked past them, keeping her gaze on the bathroom door.
“Oh, babe, loosen up a little—.”
“Hey, come back—wanna do a shot?”
Lacey glanced over her shoulder at them. They looked young, very young…and more than a little intoxicated already. Even so, their attention was a tiny ego boost, one that she really needed. More than she realized. It had been long enough since she'd been in a singles environment to seriously wonder if anyone would even find her attractive.
She didn’t want to care, but the truth was, she did.
Pasting a neutral smile on her face she walked past another small group of men, this additional test in self-confidence coming a little too soon. Once again she tamped down the desire to turn around and walk away from the entire evening.
But she knew she’d stay—she had a responsibility. A promise to keep. It wasn’t something she could walk away from, not really. And besides, there certainly were plenty of cowboys in the room. It shouldn’t take that long, right?
When Lacey reached the bathroom, inside she scrutinized herself in the mirror. So, I'm a babe who should loosen up a little. She gathered her wavy hair and twisted it into a loose bun on top of her head. Its weight quickly caused the bun to fall, sending her hair falling back down around her shoulders and down her back. Ironically, she didn't enjoy working with her own hair at all and kept it long, slightly layered and easy.
After she’d touched up her lipstick, she took her beer and walked out the bathroom door. But, instead of walking back through the bar, she ducked out the back door to kill a little more time in the peace and quiet until Kandy arrived. It just felt too awkward wandering around and waiting for Kandy and her posse of girlfriends who’d also promised to meet up at the Rockin’ Ranch that night. And besides, from the deck Lacey would easily see her drive up, and then easily join her once Kandy and her friends got inside.
Out on the deck she took a couple more swallows of her beer, then put the bottle on the rail, feeling immediately more at ease. She’d just keep an eye out for Kandy’s pink jeep. It was a perfect plan.
The air was still and balmy, really a beautiful summer night. The recorded music drifted out from the club and she swayed to the beat. This time, the mysterious dancing stranger was nowhere in sight, most likely still helping the band. She had to admit she’d liked the snug feel of his arms around her. He'd been the perfect first dance partner and she hoped her next partner made her feel as comfortable as he had. As the music paused briefly while the band did a sound check, the sound of Kandy's distinctive and infectious laughter grabbed Lacey's attention. She must have arrived while she was in the bathroom. Relieved, Lacey smiled and hurried back into the club to find her friend.
Instantly she spotted Kandy standing at the end of the bar with a group of young women.
“Hey, everybody, there's Lacey! Sorry we're late. I know, I know. You can set a watch by me always being half an hour late.” Kandy laughed at her self-characterization and then introduced her friends, recognizing a few as Kandy’s clients.
Now, surrounded by young happy faces—Kandy’s included—Lacey already felt more at ease in the club's environment. And for that she was grateful.
Lacey accessed the group quickly. She guessed that they all had most likely been carded at the door by the baby-faced cowboy—Kandy, even at twenty-two, looked more like eighteen. All were in faded jeans and tight tops accentuating perky breasts, their makeup perfect and their hair in the latest styles. She felt like a fifth wheel—as though she were someone’s older sister keeping an eye on them all.
“So, Kandy, which one is the guy you like?” one of the young women asked.
“The gorgeous one.” As Kandy stared at the stage, her expression transformed into one of almost girlish worship. It was obvious she was infatuated and was thoroughly enjoying the experience. “Look for the best ass and the cutest face.”
Lacey joined the others in looking at the stage, admiring Kandy's honest appreciation of the object of her desire. She knew her type. Kandy liked men who were a little rough around the edges, but also big and cuddly as teddy bears. There were three men standing near the center microphone and one fit the description perfectly.
“That's Luke, in the black hat.” Kandy's voice almost oozed the words. She laughed and then added, “And the thing is, he's a nice guy too.”
Lacey found Kandy's hand and gave it a squeeze. “He's adorable. Have you given him a ‘Complimentary Hair Cut’ card yet?” Over the last year she had helped Kandy build quite a sizable salon clientele by encouraging her to utilize “the first one's free” technique.
“I plan to slip one into the pocket of those tight jeans tonight. I just can't wait to give him a really long, long, long luxurious shampoo.”
The group collapsed into girlish squeals and giggles at Kandy's remarks. Lacey smiled, feeling much more calm now that she was part of a group, albeit a rather young one.
“And don't you even think of trying to snag him for the bachelor auction, either. He's mine,” Kandy whispered to Lacey. “You'll have to find some other handsome cowboy bachelor hunk to ask.”
Lacey rolled her eyes. Yes, their mission tonight was indeed to convince two men—cowboy-types to be exact—to participate in the “Most Eligible Bachelor” charity auction at the mall. It could have been worse, she thought. At least they hadn't been assigned to fire
men or construction workers. Lacey shuddered as she pictured herself walking into the local fire station or onto a construction site to recruit a couple of single men. In comparison, cowboys should be easier, right? And when Kandy volunteered to secure one, well, that lessened her task to finding one cowboy for one night.
Lacey groaned dramatically. “That's the absolute last time I send you to cover for me at a manager's meeting without specific instructions to sit on your hands and resist the temptation to volunteer for anything.”
“Oh, stop worrying,” Kandy said. “All I promised we'd do was find a couple more eligible men for their silly auction. Besides, it'll do you good to get out and circulating again.”
“You have ulterior motives, my friend.” Lacey gently punched Kandy's upper arm. “Don't you?”
Kandy flashed a smile. “You, girlfriend, have been celibate much too long. It’s time!”
In response, the group of women surrounding them whooped in unison, echoing their approval.
Lacey covered her eyes with one hand. “Do you think everyone heard you or would you like to use the microphone?”
Kandy grinned. “Okay, I'll be good. Let's sit at the bar. Is that okay with everyone? We're too late for the good tables. Next time I promise to be early so we can sit close to the dance floor.” She led the group skillfully through the crowd to some open stools at the bar.
“And, because I was late, the first round's on me.” Kandy good-naturedly pulled out her debit card, ready to treat her friends.
“Nothing for me right now, Kandy. I'll be right back.” Lacey suddenly remembered the beer she'd left on the deck, and turned to go back outside and retrieve it.
When she reached the back door and stepped onto the deck, the bottle was right where she'd left it but was just being picked up by her dancing cowboy.
“Ah, I was just about to try to find you…I saw you bring it out here...and—”
COWBOY FOR SALE--A Second-Chances Spicy Romance Page 2
