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“I don’t like it either, Waylon, but she’s a grown woman and she can date whomever she wants to. I tried speaking to her when I stopped by her condo,” Mad Dog said.
“That’s when you saw Amelia in a bikini?” Ricky couldn’t help but ask.
“It wasn’t a sight to forget, Scar.” Mad Dog looked back at the dance floor.
Ricky looked, too, and now another cowboy was stepping in to dance with Amelia.
“She seems to know the two-step just fine,” Brody said in an annoyed voice, and then they were silent.
* * * *
Amelia was getting tired. She had been out here dancing in this circle and dodging roaming hands and flirtatious comments. As the one cowboy, Tucker, spun her around then pressed his chest hard against her, plastering his hand over her ass, she grew annoyed.
She didn’t want to make a scene considering that she seemed to have drawn quite the amount of attention from curious onlookers.
“I think I’ve had it, Tucker. I need a break.” She tried to pry his hands from their locked position behind her back.
“Darlin’, we’re just getting started. I waited a good twenty minutes to get my shot dancing with you.”
She didn’t care for his tone one bit. The other cowboys she’d danced with were very friendly and respectful. None of them acted like Tucker.
“I suggest you release me right now.” Her New York accent came on real thick as he stared down at her. He was built. Just like most of the men she’d danced with. But there was something creepy about his expression.
“Why don’t we head outta here, and go somewhere more private, doll.”
His statement wasn’t a question at all. He basically was telling her that was his plan, but she wasn’t interested.
She didn’t want to cause a scene or become overly concerned with Tucker’s behavior, but as he practically dragged her off the dance floor, she knew she needed to stop him.
She spotted the tray of beer as the waitress stood by the dance floor on the bar side.
“Wait, I said I needed a drink.”
Tucker paused as he looked down at her cleavage. “You stalling?”
“I’m not going with you. I don’t know you and to be honest, I don’t like your attitude.”
He pulled her hard against him. “You’re coming with me and we’re going to continue this party.” He pressed her hard against the bar and she gasped at his move.
She looked up at Tucker, recognizing the anger in his eyes, and then she saw Mad Dog standing behind Tucker. The man towered over Tucker. Her eyes probably looked like saucers as Mad Dog tapped on Tucker’s shoulder and Tucker turned.
“I don’t think the lady wants to leave with you.”
“It’s none of your business, Murphy. The little lady and me were getting associated on the dance floor. Now she’s leaving with me.”
“No, I’m not.”
Mad Dog gave her a mean-looking expression.
Tucker turned and looked her over. “You’re my piece of ass tonight. If Murphy’s interested, he can have my seconds.”
“What?” she exclaimed, insulted and so damn angry she let her temper flare. She looked around her and to the guys standing next to her. Pulling a beer from one of their hands she took one of the mugs of beer and threw the contents into Tucker’s face, also hitting Mad Dog in the process.
Then she stomped forward and pointed her finger in Tucker’s chest.
“You listen here, cowboy Casanova, I’m not interested in leaving here with you or any other cowboy. The nerve of you to think that you could actually come up in my face and say the things you’re saying and order me to just go along with you.” She gave him the once-over then turned around to walk away until he grabbed a hold of her. That was when things turned ugly.
* * * *
