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They walked through the room. Zach and Dusty were sitting at a table, eating appetizers from the huge spread.
“We’re heading out,” Chad said to them. “We’re going for a late supper at Amici’s. You all want to come?”
Zach shook his head. “No thanks. We have plans.”
“Okay, see you guys later.” Sam followed Chad, who was already very cozy with his arm around Linda, out the door of the ballroom.
His own hand itched to touch beautiful Sydney. Her dark hair fell to her bottom. The nearly onyx waves glided as she walked, keeping time with her pace. She walked slightly ahead of Sam, and his gaze never left her. Should he touch her?
How I want to touch her.
He wasn’t a ladies’ man like Chad. He’d had experience, of course, but getting too friendly on a first date—and this wasn’t even a first date—wasn’t his style. They’d just met at the Bays’ party. Getting too friendly on a first meeting was definitely not his style. He prided himself on being a gentleman.
Besides, he hadn’t had much time for dating during the past several years. First Dusty’s illness, and then their father’s death, and then nearly losing the farm—not too many moments left for wooing the ladies.
He was totally out of practice. Hopefully he wouldn’t make a complete ass of himself.
Chad was right. Amici’s had a great table for them, private and out of the way, with a beautiful view of downtown Denver in lights.
His baked ziti was delicious. He didn’t say much, just watched Sydney eat her pasta—how could one woman be so sexy eating pasta?—while Chad and Linda rattled on about one thing and another.
“What about you, S
yd?” Linda said.
Sam jerked toward the female voice. She was asking Sydney something, but damned if he knew what. He hadn’t been listening.
“I’ve got a fair shot, I guess,” Sydney replied. “But Sam’s sister is going to be tough to beat.”
Okay. They're talking about the barrel racing. Sam nodded. “Dusty’s good, that’s for sure.”
“Why haven’t you all been down here to nationals before?” Chad asked.
Sam hesitated. He didn’t like talking about their financial situation, especially not to one of the McCray heirs. Chad could write his own ticket anywhere.
“Just haven’t had the time, I guess.”
Chad pushed his empty plate away from him. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m stuffed.”
“Couldn’t eat another bite.” Linda winked.
They’ve got somethin’ up their sleeves.
“We could go back to my suite,” Chad said. “Have a few drinks.”
Yep, I know what he has in mind. And three—or four—is a crowd. Sydney’s gaze locked onto his, her dark eyes brooding.
Damn!
He couldn’t take her back to his room at the Holiday Inn. Not only was it not up to the Windsor Hotel standards, but he shared it with Dusty. Not exactly fare for a romantic evening.
“I don’t know,” he said. “I’ve got lots to do tomorrow, and it’s getting late.”
“Don’t be a party pooper, Sam.” Chad guffawed. “The girls are stayin’ at the Windsor. Let’s go on back there. The night’s still young.”
Sydney reached toward him, and her small hand landed on his forearm. His groin tightened.
She blinked those dark eyes slowly and her lips curved into a shy smile.
