Page 114 of Lost Trust

“He’s hanging out with his granddad tonight. He’s been having dizzy spells, and we’re staying at his place to keep an eye on him,” she says, then looks at Cabe. “And I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”

“I know,” he mumbles. “He made me promise.”

She mutters something under her breath.

“Don’t worry, fellas,” I say. “We can handle any unruly cowboys we happen to stumble across tonight.”

“Damn straight,” Harleigh says, lifting her chin.

I turn back to catch Royce smiling. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re laughing at us,” I say.

“I’m just thinking how you fit right in with this crowd.”

His eyes meet mine for a second. Something warm flickers there. Then he looks back at the road.

My stomach gives another stupid flutter.

When we pull into The Soused Cow, I can hear country music before Royce even kills the engine.

The parking lot is gravel, packed with pickup trucks and SUVs beneath a scatter of old-fashioned lampposts. Music spills through the walls, along with the distant roar of a crowd.

Royce parks beneath one of the lamps, and we all start climbing out.

I slide out of the driver’s door behind Royce and step down from the truck, smoothing my dress.

The fringe sways around my thighs.

Before I can take two steps, Harleigh hooks her arm through mine.

She looks me up and down. “Girl”—she gives me an approving nod—“you look hot.”

I glance down at myself. “Ginger picked it.”

“I knew I liked that woman,” she says.

I smile.

Then I look toward the glowing entrance of The Soused Cow. And suddenly, that nervous excitement humming beneath my skin shifts into something else. Anticipation.

I glance over at Royce.

He’s standing beside his truck, one hand resting on the door, watching me.

His appreciative gaze travels over me slowly before his eyes meet mine. And that little hum inside me gets a whole hell of a lot louder.

Harleigh gives my arm a tug. “Come on, hot stuff.”

I let her pull me toward the door and force myself not to look back at Royce.

Harleigh drags me onto the dance floor after several tequila shots. Porter had good reason to ask Cabe to keep an eye on her; she’s a little wild. Which is a stark contrast to the reserved, buttoned-up person he seems to be. I guess opposites really do attract.

The alcohol is warm in my veins, loosening everything I usually keep locked down.

“Come on, Marina! Let’s give ’em a show in that dress.”