"So she doesn’t mind that you have her?"
"Jeff was pretty specific about his wishes. Dolly respects that. The only thing she asked of me is to keep in contact so that Charlotte will know her." And to stay in Texas, but he didn't say that. If he did decide to go back to Montana, airplanes could easily close the distance of miles so that Charlotte could know her grandmother.
Heather glanced toward the door. "Uh-oh. Incoming."
Lyle followed her gaze, then gave a wave. "Hey, Frank. Over here."
Heather all but groaned. "Now you've done it."
"What? Did you think they wouldn't see us?"
Heather pasted a smile on her face and stood to hug her brother and sister-in-law.
"I'm so happy you're here," Lori said. She was a beautiful woman, petite and fit and bubbly. She wore a denim mini skirt, a tank top and sparkly cowboy boots. It was easy to see why her brother was so in love. They were hoping to have children, had been actively trying for the past two years. Lori never let on that she might be discouraged and Heather really hoped it would happen for them soon. She wanted to be an auntie.
"Well, a girl's gotta eat," she said, scooting over so Lori and Frank could slide into the booth.
"And drink," Lori agreed. "And dance! This is going to be so much fun! We don't get to see you enough."
Heather wanted to slow down a bit on Lori's agenda. She'd agreed to a meal. Now, not only did she have Lyle to contend with, her sister-in-law was determined to hijack the evening and make it into an outright party.
"Heather's keeping pretty busy these days," Lyle said to Lori in defense of Heather's apparent lack of social engagement.
Frank raised a brow. "You keeping tabs on my sister, Watkins?"
"Hard not to since she lives within spitting distance of me."
"Well, keep it respectful," Frank teased. They were life-long best friends. Lyle could tell that Frank was protective of his sister, but there was trust between them. Frank knew Lyle well enough to know he wouldn't deliberately hurt Heather. And although Lyle appreciated Frank's unspoken approval, he felt the smallest bit of pressure to mind his p's and q's.
Dinner passed in an easy rhythm, filled with laughter, effortless conversation, and a little too much staring on Heather’s part. Somewhere between their meal and Charlotte running back to them with wild stories of her adventures near the ice cream counter, the local band struck up another tune.
Kenny sat toward the back of the stage, his posture relaxed, fingers moving effortlessly over the guitar strings as he played. Heather had to admit she was impressed—he looked like he belonged up there, a solid, steady presence despite the fact he was clearly filling in.
Then the fiddle joined in, slow and sweet.
A country love song.
Lori already had Frank out on the dance floor. Heather’s stomach tightened as Lyle arched a brow, then pushed away from the booth with the smooth confidence of a man with one mission.
“Dance with me, Firefly.”
“Lyle—”
“We made a deal. You agreed to try this grown-up thing.” His hand was already out, palm up, waiting.
Heather glanced around, half-expecting every single set of eyes in the diner to be locked on them. But no one was paying attention, too caught up in their own fried food, conversations, and slow pace of the evening.
Her heart warred with her brain. This was a bad idea. A very bad idea.
But Lyle Watkins had never been an easy man to say no to.
With a sigh, she placed her hand in his. His fingers curled around hers instantly, warm and steady as he led her toward the small open area some of the couples had already drifted onto.
The moment he pulled her close, Heather knew she was in trouble.
He smelled like leather, cedar, and something distinctly him. One hand rested at her lower back, fingers barely pressing through the fabric of her dress, while the other clasped hers gently, moving her effortlessly in time with the music. “You look good tonight, Firefly. I like the dress.”
“Um, thanks.” The empire waist, light cotton dress was a sunny yellow that complimented her dark hair. It hit several inches above her knees, the thin material not creating the least bit of barrier between their bodies as he pressed her close. She missed a step and the toe of her cowboy boot collided with his.
