“This hat.” She raised our clasped hands and tapped the brim with one finger. “We’re in North Carolina, not Texas.”
“Y’all don’t wear these here?”
“No, but I appreciate you takingy’allfor a test drive.”
I grinned. “Well, if I’m wearing the hat, I guess I’ll never fit in.”
With that, I took off the brand-new Stetson and popped it on her head instead. “You already fit in, so you can pull it off.”
She looked affronted for half a second, then shrugged. “We are in a country western bar. It probably won’t hurt my reputation too much.”
“That’s the spirit,” I forced out before clearing my throat. She looked entirely too good.
The flannel she wore, I’d seen before. The jeans, too, though they did incredible things for her ass. But her features were softer in the rainbow lights bouncing around the dance floor, pale eyes otherworldly as they reflected the spectrum of colors. Her short hair had a wave to it tonight. Like she’d taken the time to curl it, but her impatient hands had tugged all but the most stubborn coils loose. This was the first time I’d ever seen her wearing makeup. Joan’s stern, expressive brows were defined and elegant. Her lips, plump and shiny with gloss. I knew the dramatic winged liner was Larry’s handiwork. Mac’s sassy, outspoken cousin had done up all the women tonight.
Even with the changes, I could still see the real Joan beneath. The truth was there in the fierce narrowing of her eyes, the sharpness of every expression, the way she seemed to always see through me.
And with my hat on her head, looking the way she did, I wanted to break my promise about kissing her in front of everyone.
The truth was, she’d fit in anywhere in this town, cowboy hat or not. She was welcome in every establishment, esteemed by any business owner. The Judds were staples in Kirby Falls, and everyone knew and respected Joan. It was just the way of things here.
What did it feel like to be so accepted, so embedded in a community? I knew small towns could be hell on reputations. People got labeled at young ages. I was sure there were screwups who wished they could change how they were seen, bad apples who’d long since shaped up. But did the people of Kirby Falls allow for second chances? Or did they cling to the past in favor of the future?
I wanted to know.
I’d never made sense to my parents or my sister. My hometown was just somewhere I was from. Los Angeles was simply a destination for the career I’d always wanted. A pin on a map where dreams were made.
For as much as I liked and wanted Joan, I envied her, too. She knew exactly who she was and where she belonged. And I’d never managed to fit in anywhere.
“Do you wear cowboy hats in Los Angeles?” she said, and I realized this was the first time she’d ever asked me about my life in California.
“When the mood strikes. Or if a role calls for it. I did play a rancher once.”
“Is that where you learned to line dance?” she wondered. “I can’t imagine that comes up often in your line of work, though.”
I laughed. “No, it doesn’t. But my job is basically glorified memorization.”
Her fingers suddenly stopped dancing across my nape. I wondered if she’d even been aware she was doing it.
I sure was.
Very aware. And I didn’t want her to stop.
But she resumed after a moment and said incredulously, “You mean you learned all those line dances here? Tonight?”
I shrugged, surprised that she seemed so taken aback. It was just dancing. “I’ve always been good at remembering lines and hitting my marks, blocking for scenes. This was just memorizing steps and following along.”
“Huh,” she replied, completely dumbfounded. “That’s amazing.”
It would have been nice if she was impressed by normal things, like award nominations or biceps. Still, I was pleased that she found something about me to praise, even if it wasn’t my new ability to wash a load of laundry on the gentle cycle.
The slow set ended as the upbeat notes of “A Bar Song” filtered through the speakers.
Joan released me, and I reluctantly let her step out of my arms.
“Thanks for the dance,” I told her.
“Guess I better herd these cats and get them home.” She wouldn’t meet my eyes, and I felt a sense of urgency to stretch out a hand and draw her back to me. That if she took another step away, she’d be out of my reach, and we’d be back to square one.
