Walk The Line (The Dawson Brothers Book 6)

by Ali Parker

  Then, he started to move in my direction until finally he was standing right in front of me.

  “Howdy ma’am. Would you like to dance?” he asked, in his very cute Texas drawl.

  I looked him up and down. He was even taller now that he was in front of me, at least 6’2 or 6’3, but was he a cowboy?

  “I don’t know. Are you a real cowboy?” I asked.

  “Pardon me ma’am?” he asked, sounding confused.

  “Are you a real cowboy?”

  “Yes’m. I suppose I am,” he said, still unsure.

  I laughed. Even if he weren’t a real cowboy, he was cute and a dance wouldn’t hurt.

  “Yes, I’ll dance with you, cowboy.”

  “Thank you, ma’am,” he said, politely.

  I laughed. I’d never been called ma’am before, but it was endearing. He held out his large hand. The moment I placed mine in his, I immediately felt callouses. So yes, he was definitely a cowboy. He helped me down off the table, putting his other hand on my waist. I immediately felt the warm rush of heat move through my body. This cowboy had me feeling a bit flustered already, he was just so damn sexy.

  He grinned as he led me out onto the dance floor. That sideways grin was very devious, yet charming. I was intrigued.

  Then, with one of his hands on my waist and the other holding my hand, we started to dance. It was a two-step and he was very skilled. He never took those light green eyes off of mine.

  “You’re not from around here,” he said.

  “No. Not really,” I said.

  “No. I definitely would have noticed you before,” he said, flirtatiously.

  “Oh, that’s smooth. Is that a line you use on all the girls, cowboy?”

  He laughed. “No, I’m being honest with you.”

  “Sure you are,” I said.

  He sighed. “You—you’re something else.”

  I felt his strong hand move on my waist. The grin fell from his face as he locked eyes with me. I felt hot and flushed all over. Suddenly it felt like we were the only two people on the dance floor. He was pulling me in, holding me in his strong arms. Without realizing it my lips parted slightly. His eyes darted to them. Without warning, he kissed me—hard. For a moment, I forgot he was stranger, but just for a moment.

  I pushed him away.

  Slap! My hand smacked his cheek.

  “What in the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  I didn’t give him time to answer. Stomping off the dance floor, I made my way through the crowd. What the hell was that all about? It was one thing to look at me the way he was, but to think he could just kiss me? It was downright rude and he was a pig!

  Turning every which way, I finally saw the sign for the ladies room. My lips were still burning from that heated kiss and my waist still felt like his hand was on it. I liked him, but why did he have to go and be such a pig?

  “Whitney! There you are,” I said, as she came out of the ladies room.

  “Sorry, look at that line!” she said.

  “Ugh. You won’t believe what just happened. These men might be real cowboys but they are not gentlemen.”

  “Why? What happened?”

  “I’m starving. Can we go get something to eat and I’ll tell you all about it,” I said.

  “Sure. There’s a late night diner nearby where we can stop,” she said. Whitney grabbed my hand and led me through the massive dance hall. As we were walking, I looked around for the cowboy kissing bandit so I could point him out to Whitney. A part of me hoped that maybe she knew his name, but I didn’t see him at all. I didn’t even see the group of guys he had been standing with.

  In the parking lot we got into Whitney’s car and slowly began to pull out. There were people lingering about and chatting all over the place.

  “Fight! Fight!” We heard the chant and saw people running off to the side.

  “Oh Lord, it looks like there’s a fight somewhere,” Whitney sighed as she slowly drove out of the lot.

  “A drunken bar brawl, how cliché,” I said. I looked in the direction of the group that had gathered as Whitney drove us out of the lot. In the dim light I thought I saw the cowboy that I danced with. It was just a moment and I wasn’t sure, but he looked to be the one fighting.

  I sighed and shook my head. “Heathens. These cowboys are brash, all of them. At least city guys have manners.”

  A few minutes later we were pulling into a diner. The neon sign looked like it had been there since the 1950s, and I even saw a soda bar when we walked inside.

  “Two?” the waitress asked.

  “Yes please,” Whitney said.

  We slid into a booth at the back of the diner as the waitress handed us two menus and walked away.

  “Wow, this is a flashback diner for sure,” I said, looking around.

  “Yeah, it hasn’t changed one bit. I used to come here and get milkshakes and fries with my sister every Sunday,” Whitney said. “Now, tell me what happened—

  “Can I get you started on drinks?” the waitress asked, interrupting.

  “Can I get a black coffee and glass of water,” Whitney said.

  “I’ll have the same,” I added. She nodded and walked away from the table.

  “We’re gonna need that coffee for the ride back and all,” Whitney said, “Now, what went on—”

  “This cowboy asked me to dance and I agreed. Once we were out there, it was fun, but then he kissed me out of nowhere!” I said.

  “What?! Why?” Whitney said.

  “I don’t know. Because he’s a pig, I guess. He kissed me right on the mouth and my mouth was already open a bit. It was too familiar! It wasn’t a kiss on the cheek or anything, it was square on the mouth!”

  Her eyes were wide. “That is pretty brash. What did you do?”

  “I slapped his face and walked off, of course.”

  She burst out laughing. “You didn’t?!”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “I wished I could have seen that. Damn my bladder for making me miss it. Was he ugly?”

  “Well, no. Hardly. But that’s not the point.”

  “What did he look like?” she asked.

  “Two black coffees and two waters. Take your order?” The waitress placed the drinks on the table.

  “Yeah, I’ll have a cheeseburger and an order of cheesy fries,” Whitney said.

  “I’ll have the chicken strip basket with fries and gravy,” I said, ordering the Texas staple.

  “Alright,” she said, grabbing the menus and leaving us once more.

  “So, what did he look like?”

  “He was tall, like really tall, and handsome. Typical cowboy look, tattoos on one arm, light green eyes. His smile was that crooked side grin. Sort of mischievous and dashing. Oh, and he kept calling me ma’am, which I thought was funny and—”

  “Oh my god, you are smitten!” Whitney said.

  “What? No I’m not!”

  “Yes, you are! You are describing him like you’re reading some sort of romantic poetry.”

  “Am not!”

  “Are too! What’s his name?”

  “I don’t even know. We didn’t exchange names. He kissed me, but he hadn’t even asked for my name! He’s a pig!” I said.

  “That’s it, we need to go back and find him,” she said, excitedly.

  “No, we are not. He’s not for me. He’s brash, too young for me, and not my type—not anymore,” I said.

  “What is that supposed to mean? And too young? You are twenty-seven!”

  “I know, but I’m looking to date a man that already has his shit together, someone in their forties at least. Not some young’un that’s always bar fightin’ and still figuring things out. That is why I date men in the city,” I said.

  “Date? You don’t date. You wait.”

  “Well, I’m waiting for someone I like to come along.”

  “Here we are, ladies. Cheeseburger and cheesy fries, and the chicken strip basket,” the waitress said as she put the fo
od in front of us. “Let me know if you need anything else.”

  “Thank you. Gosh Whitney, this looks really good and smells even better. I’m glad we came here,” I said.

  “So am I, and I don’t mean the diner. I mean to Safety. I think a little excitement was in order, and getting kissed by a hot cowboy may have been just what you needed,” Whitney said.

  I rolled my eyes at her and dug into my food. But deep down inside I knew she was right. I did enjoy that kiss. I was still thinking about it. Dang it.

  3

  Connor Dawson

  I couldn’t get that kiss out of my mind. Who was that woman? I didn’t know what came over me in that moment, but I couldn’t help myself. It was my rogue nature taking over that made me steal that kiss. I regretted it afterward, of course. She slapped me, rightly so, and then moved off the dance floor. The good news was that I won some money from the bet with my brothers for getting her to dance, but I didn’t win Wyatt’s bet for a kiss. Stealing a kiss didn’t count.

  Now I went downstairs to get started on the day, but noticed the familiar smell of breakfast cooking was not hitting me as I descended the stairs.

  “I don’t smell breakfast. What gives?” I asked, as I walked into the kitchen. Abi was sitting at the table with my father. Both were drinking a cup of coffee and talking about something or other.

  “Well, you’re the first one up besides your sister, so get to cookin,” my father said.

  “I am?” I looked at the clock, realizing I was a good thirty minutes earlier than my usual time. Damn, I couldn’t sleep, so after tossing and turning all night, I finally just got up.

  “Yep you are. Now help me get started,” Abi said, getting up from the table. “Wash and peel some potatoes and I’ll put the biscuits in the oven. Father isn’t listening to me anyway.”

  “I’m listening, Abi. I’m just not agreeing with you,” my father said.

  “Agreeing with what? What do you want now?” I teased her.

  “Oh, hush up. It’s not just for me, it’s for all of us,” Abi said.

  “This house was built by your great grandfather and all the things in it have lasted since then,” he said.

  “Exactly, it’s all the same, nothing has changed. We need a bit of a makeover,” Abi said.

  “These things mean something to this ranch,” my father said.

  “I’m not going to throw away anything important, or an heirloom. I’m just talking about some fresh paint. Some new couches maybe, and look at this kitchen, we need a new dishwasher and refrigerator. The washer and dryer in the laundry are just about done. They can only handle so much ranch dirt and grime from all of our clothes,” she said, as she mixed the biscuit batter vigorously.

  “A coat of paint? Your brothers can do that,” he said, unfolding his newspaper and bringing it up to his eye line, letting us know he was done talking and just wanted to relax with his paper.

  “Your brothers can do what?” Wyatt asked, coming into the kitchen to pour a cup of coffee.

  “Paint,” I said.

  “Paint what?” Dylan asked, coming into the kitchen.

  “The walls,” I said.

  “What? That sounds like a project. We’ve already got enough to do around here,” Wyatt said, as he washed his hands to help with breakfast.

  “Exactly. That’s why I’m trying to get Father to agree to let me hire a professional to make some updates around the house, like an interior designer,” Abi said.

  “Works for me, as long as someone else is doing the work. We’ve all got too much to do already,” Wyatt said.

  “I don’t see the point, the place is fine,” our father said.

  “I’m with you, Father. Don’t need no one changing things around here,” Dylan said, as he sat down at the table. Bam! He fell to the ground. We all burst out laughing.

  “Dang it! What the hell?” Dylan said, getting up.

  “That chair has a bad leg. See Father, I told you,” Abi said, making the point despite her laughter.

  Our father just groaned and continued reading.

  “Now don’t go using the excuse that you’re hurting from that fall to get out of work today, because rest assured, you’re helping me with the cows later,” I said. Pointing the potato peeler at Dylan all the while.

  “Yeah, yeah, I know. You’ve been reminding me since Friday,” Dylan said.

  Twenty minutes later we were sitting down to potatoes, scrambled eggs with onion and bell peppers, plus biscuits and gravy. Abi was still making her pitch about redoing the house. I was getting my fill of breakfast, preparing for a hard day of work.

  “I’m just saying a few things here and there,” Abi said.

  “Granddaddy’s clock?” Dylan asked, with a mouthful.

  “No. Of course not. Granddaddy’s clock would stay. All the heirlooms would stay. I would be real careful. Just that old couch and lighter paint throughout, some new curtains, things like that,” Abi said.

  “She does have a point. Those curtains have been there since the seventies,” Wyatt said.

  “Yes, and just think, it could be country modern, still country, but new and fresh,” Abi said, getting excited.

  “I actually think that would be a good idea. We do need a few new chairs since these can’t even hold Dylan,” I said, enjoying the opportunity to tease him.

  “Nothing can hold me,” Dylan proudly bragged.

  I rolled my eyes at him.

  “See, Connor knows what I’m talking about,” Abi said.

  Our father groaned again. “You’re not touching my office, or the library.”

  “Father?”

  “Or the bedrooms,” he continued.

  “Does that mean—” Abi said.

  “All the family heirlooms still need to be on display in that living room and hall like they are, but you can do paint, curtains, couches and new stuff for the kitchen and laundry.”

  “Yes!” Abi said.

  “And Connor is going to help you with this project,” he continued.

  Dylan and Wyatt laughed.

  “What? Why me?” I said, shocked.

  “Because you agreed with Abi, and you are generally good with budgets. You do well with the feed stock for the animals and all. But Abi here is not so good with budgets, at least when it comes to shopping,” he said.

  “Dang it,” I muttered.

  “Thank you, Father!” Abi jumped up and gave him a hug.

  Dylan and Wyatt were mocking me with their eyes and ridiculous grins. I sighed. How the hell was I going to do something like this? Feed stock was one thing, but this I knew nothing about.

  After breakfast we all dispersed around the ranch to go do our various chores. I was in charge of the animals for the most part, along with other responsibilities. Everyone else had assignments as well. I walked out to the stables where Abi was grooming the horses. She took on most of the horse related chores.

  “Thanks a lot,” I said, grabbing a saddle off the wall.

  “What?” she said.

  “You just put me on the house decorating committee, something I’m not at all interested in,” I said, putting the saddle on top of Thunder, the stallion, and buckling it on.

  “That doesn’t surprise me. You never want to do anything with me,” she muttered.

  “What? That is not true. Where are you getting that from?” I asked.

  “From my experience, where do you think? You know the only thing we do together is chores around the house. Make breakfast, ranch duties—that’s it,” she said, sounding angry.

  “What, you want me to go get your hair done with you?” I teased her.

  “Oh, hush up. You don’t have to turn into a girl to spend time with your sister.”

  “Well, you may have to turn into a boy to spend time with me. I’m down to play flag football anytime,” I said, hoping to earn a smile at least.

  “Be serious,” she said, putting the saddle on Sunshine.

  “I’m doing this damn thing aren’
t I? The whole house thing.”

  “Only because Father is making you,” she said.

  “Yes, that’s true, but he’s not making me race you to the back forty,” I grinned at her.

  “You’re on,” she said.

  We finished saddling the horses and pulled them out of the stables. I mounted Thunder, already feeling like he was ready to bolt like lightning. He had some pent up energy to get rid of and I was feeling the same way. Ever since I held that platinum blond in my arms and she slapped me across the face, I’d had a fire burning inside of me. It was consuming me, and I couldn’t shake her from my mind.

  “No cheating,” Abi said, as she mounted Sunshine.

  “I don’t need to cheat. I’m just good,” I said.

  “We’ll see about that,” she said. “Hee-yah!”

  She pushed Sunshine into a run. I did the same with Thunder. We bolted across the ranch and into the pastures heading for the back forty acres of cornfields. This felt good. I had not done this in a while and it was definitely what I needed. I pushed my straw hat down further onto my head to keep it from flying off. Suddenly Thunder pushed harder and got ahead of Sunshine.

  “Yeah! Woohoo!” I shouted, as we got to the first row of the back forty. I pulled on the reins, slowing the big horse down. Abi was right on my heels on Sunshine.

  “That was a good run!” she shouted.

  “Yeah it was, and I declare myself the official winner,” I said, grinning.

  “Yes, you did. You won, fair and square,” she said, rolling her eyes.

  We walked the horses back along the pastures, slowly cooling them out. They’d had a good run.

  “I think Father wants you,” Abi said. I followed her gaze, and saw Father in the back of a pickup truck, waving.