She narrowed her eyes. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“I think you know I would,” he said. “Rocking Wells is right down the road.”
“Ugh,” she groaned. “Wells is gross and dingy. The last time I was there, my shoes stuck to the floor all night.”
“Alright,” Lincoln interjected, reaching over to turn the truck off. “That’s enough of that.”
“Hey!” Bishop called, leaning across his console, but Lincoln was already hopping out of the truck.
He stopped outside my door, opening it and offering his hand. I stared at it for a moment before placing mine on top and letting him help me.
“You know, I never got the chance to tell you how good you looked tonight, darlin’,” Lincoln said, letting his gaze drop down my body.
I didn’t go out much these days, so it’d taken me a while to find an outfit Cleo and Lennox deemed appropriate. They’d both opted for cute summer dresses, but that wasn’t much of my style; the ones I saw in my closet were far too formal to wear to my hometown bar. Instead, I’d settled on a pair of black bell-bottom jeans with boots and a distressed, cropped t-shirt with the Black Springs Ranch logo. Cleo curled my hair in loose waves, letting it flow freely down my back.
“Well, I wanted something that’d be easy to dance in,” I said, forcing a smile.
Lincoln pulled me out of the way before helping Cleo out next. “I didn’t know you danced,” he said.
“I grew up in a small town in Texas. There isn’t much else to do on the weekends but show up here with fake IDs and learn to dance.”
“Makes sense,” he said. “Wish I would’ve known sooner.” He placed his hand on the small of my back, and I relished the brush of his skin against mine.
I hated how his touch made me feel, how easy it was for him to have complete control. It took all my willpower not to curl into his arms and beg him to take me home.
Instead, like the good girl I was, I took a deep breath and lethim guide me forward. Cleo and Lennox hooked their arms with mine, leaving Bishop and Lincoln behind.
The Lone Star was an Ashwood staple. I wasn’t sure how long it had been around, but I knew my dad used to sneak in when he was a kid, and that was long enough for me. During the day, half the building doubled as a restaurant. Then, once the sun went down, the second half opened—that side was more in line with your typical bar decor.
Up front, there was a stage for live music. Two bars were built into the sides, allowing easy access for patrons focused on the band. The dance floor was in the middle of the room, taking up a large majority of space—which was fine with me.
Don’t get me wrong, I loved listening to the music, but I mostly came to dance. It was just my luck that the two often went hand in hand.
We stepped up to the second entrance, which led us straight into the venue portion. The house band was on, playing a mix of nineties country barely audible over the hum of the crowd. I could already feel my excitement kicking in—the need to move my body to the beat of the music threatening to take over.
When we reached the front, Bishop stepped forward to shake the bouncer’s hand. “Davey! How the hell are ya?”
“Busy night,” Davey grumbled, slapping a wristband on each of us. He gestured toward the door without charging us the cover. “But y’all are in for one hell of a show.”
Bishop thanked him, holding the door. “I’m going to get some beers. Y’all want anything?”
“I’ll go with you, man,” Lincoln said, turning toward me and leaning to whisper in my ear. The heady scent of leather and sandalwood filled my nose, making me dizzy. “What sounds good? Are you in for another whiskey night?” he asked, pulling back just enough to see my reaction. His eyes twinkled under the neonlights, no doubt remembering that the last time we drank together ended with us fucking on a pool table.
“Surprise me. I’m in the mood for anything,” I replied, trying like hell to get the memories of Lincoln’s whiskey kisses out of my mind. “We’ll grab one of those tall tables by the dance floor.”
He nodded, looking over my shoulder where I pointed. “Sounds good. Be right back.”
I watched him go, dropping my gaze to his Wrangler clad ass. God, it really was a great ass—one that looked even better out of clothes. It was almost criminal.
Get a grip, Josephine. Don’t lose your head.
It was easier said than done, especially when I was almost ready to ask him to pull me into the nearest alcove and force me to remember what being with him had been like.
Cleo and Lennox were already at the table. I sat down with a huff, running my hands through my hair. My phone vibrated in my pocket, and I groaned. Goddammit, why couldn’t he take a hint? Ellis’ name flashed across my screen, and I hit decline. With each call, my decision became a bit clearer.
As I slipped my phone back into my pocket, it vibrated again. I wanted to take it out, screaming at the screen to be left alone.
“Gimme that,” Lennox said, reaching over the table for my phone.
