Her face changes from a smile to terror. “Am I overdressed? I thought this was understated. Do I need to change? I think I have a pair of jeans somewhere,” Brynlee says.
“No, you look amazin’,” I say and shake my head. “You always look amazin’, but I think this might be my favorite outfit so far.”
Sighing in relief, the smile returns. “I was worried I still looked too city. Everything in my closet screams it, but this felt a bit country. I like my wardrobe, but until people get used to me, I’d like to try to blend in a bit.”
“Bryn, I hate to break it to you, but I don’t think you’ll ever be able to blend in. And that’s not a bad thing,” I say, walking over to offer my arm as she descends the stairs. “You could show up in sweatpants with bedhead hair—which some women might tonight—and you’d still draw attention to yourself. Not in a bad way.”
I open the door for her and offer my hand. I spent an hour scrubbing off as much caked-on dirt and grease as I could, and she takes my hand without hesitation. I swear she blushes at me, and I force it to the back of my mind. There’s a solid chance I won’t be the one bringing her back home tonight, so it’s best to make sure my expectations are in check.
Shutting her door, I hurry to my side and climb in. I smile before pulling away from the house, and I want so much to reach over and take her hand. Instead, I lower the window and hang my left arm out while driving with my right to keep my hands to myself. And to help air out the cab more.
“So, Carter’s wife, Darla, will be all over you when she meets you. She’ll want to know your life story,” I say. “As will many others, I’m sure.”
Brynlee turns with wide eyes. “There’s not much of a chance of remaining mysterious here, huh?”
“No, not really. It might just be best to give them as much as you’re comfortable with. It’ll make them feel more comfortable around you,” I say. “Let’s come up with a signal I can try to keep an eye out for if you need to be saved at any point tonight.”
Yeah, like I plan to take my eyes off her for a moment longer than I have to.
“Are you planning on abandoning me?” she asks, turning slightly to face me. “Got a hot girl you want to hit on?”
The only girl I want to talk to, let alone hit on, sits right beside me in a dress that rides up her legs as she moves. It’s impossible to stop thinking about how much I want my face between them with her wedges hooked over my shoulders.
Shifting, I try to hide my growing arousal. “You’re goin’ to be the center of attention, which I think Carter’s bankin’ on, actually. He can do his own thing instead of havin’ to entertain people because they’ll be focused on you. Consider yourself a celebrity tonight.”
“Oh, good,” she says, shifting to look out the window again. “How about if I play with my earring?”
I glance over to see her tugging on her earlobe before playing with the silver dangling piece. “That works. I’ll keep an eye out for that.”
“What’s Darla like? Is she nice?”
She sounds nervous, and I feel badly about it. I caused it. The truth is the truth, though, and I’d rather her be prepared than be taken by surprise.
“Darla’s a perfect fit for Carter. They’ve been together since the eighth grade. His twin brother, Everett, will be there, too, but Carter makes it known the party’s forhisbirthday to annoy him.”
“They don’t get along well?”
That’s a conversation for another time. The last thing I want is to completely humiliate myself right now. “They get along, but they had a fallin’ out about two years ago.”
Thankfully, we pull up outside the bar, and I hurry to open the door for her and offer her my hand. She’s not short by any means, and if I have to guess, I’d say she’s about five foot seven, flatfooted.
“Such a gentleman,” Brynlee says as she smiles at me.
It feels like an adoring smile, but I push that thought away, too. I need to stop finding things that aren’t there. Not if I want a chance of keeping my heart intact tonight.
“I’m Southern, sweetheart,” I say, exaggerating my drawl and making her giggle before I open the door to the bar.
That giggle has me ready to float away, but I come back down to earth as the chattering inside comes to a screeching halt. I knew she’d gain attention, but not even Jason Aldean received this reaction when he stopped in after his bus broke down after playing in Atlanta years ago. Her eyes look up at me, and I hate the panic in them.
“It’s because you’re the prettiest girl that’s ever walked in here,” I whisper in her ear.
She smiles and dips her head as a blush appears on her cheeks. Something that happens quite a bit, I’m noticing. Spotting Carter, I guide her to the only other friendly face in the room, and I shoot looks at everyone who gapes at Brynlee when we pass by.
We’re supposed to have the reputation of Southern hospitality around here, people.
“Baby, this is Brynlee Carmichael. Brynlee, this is my wife, Darla,” Carter says with a smile.
“It’s nice to meet you, Darla. And happy birthday, Carter. Thank you for inviting me tonight,” she says.
