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Carson couldn’t read Evie. Not that he thought he’d ever know the inner workings of a woman’s mind, but she was either hot or cold. He wished she would open up to him. Ever since they’d stopped by the school, something was off, but she seemed so focused on this night at Racoons. So he’d go with her, meet whoever she introduced him to, then hopefully, when they were alone again, she’d clue him into why she was so jittery.
It had been a while since Carson had been to a bar. Definitely nothing since breaking up with Stacee. As he approached the bar with its thumping music, his pulse dialed up a notch. Rhett would have loved this place, Carson could already tell. His brother might have even entered the battle of the bands with his guitar—a guitar that was stowed somewhere.
The inside of the bar was large, with a balcony overlooking a dance floor, and tables lining the exterior of the room. It smelled like every other bar, with cloying perfumes and cologne, mixed with beer. A platform was at the far side—and Carson assumed it was the makeshift stage. No one was playing right now, although a couple of cowboys were gathered on the platform, seeming to be tuning their guitars.
The music that thumped came through the speakers, and the colored lights shifted across the dance floor. The place was surprisingly crowded and filled with people in their twenties and thirties.
A group of older cowboys sat in one corner, hunched over their drinks. They looked like they were about to bail due to the influx of younger people.
“Is it always this busy?” Carson said, close to Evie’s ear. “Where are all these people from?”
“Surrounding towns,” she said.
He felt her stiffen beside him, and that’s when he saw the woman they’d met at the diner—Barb or Barbie—approaching, with two other women with her. They all wore what looked like cocktail dresses, which felt way too overdressed for a small-town bar.
Ironically, Barb’s face was made up like a Barbie doll, and her glittering blue dress shined in the spotlights.
“You made it, Evie!” Barb practically sang out. Then she air-kissed Evie.
Next, Barb turned to Carson, slipped an arm about his waist, and squeezed him in a side hug.
Um . . .
“Hi, there,” he said.
“Oh, don’t hi there me, pumpkin,” Barb cooed. “We’re pretty much neighbors.” She motioned to the two women who’d come with her. “This is Patsy and Jana.”
Patsy’s dark hair was short and stuck out every which way—a fashion statement, Carson guessed. Jana was a voluptuous redhead who looked as if she’d experimented with her mom’s makeup. What was up with the women in this town and their layers of makeup?
“Oh, wow, I’m so excited to meet you,” Jana said, stepping forward to squeeze Carson’s arm.
Patsy giggled, then took a swig of her drink, practically teetering on her heels.
“Don’t mind Patsy,” Barb said. “She’s already on her third drink.”
Patsy giggled again, as if to support that statement.
Now, Carson remembered with full clarity why he hadn’t been to a bar in a long, long time.
“Right.” Jana peered up at him, standing surprisingly close, as if the conversation was just between them. “Patsy enjoys her fun, and Barb is the perfect host. Me, though, I’m just the girl next door.”
“Hi, Jana,” Evie said, her tone cutting across all the weird flirty stuff going on.
Jana dropped her hand from Carson’s bicep and slowly turned to look at Evie. “Oh. My. Gosh. Evie Prosper? Wow. You’ve, um, grown up.”
Evie’s smile was tight. “So have you.”
Carson looked between the women. He guessed Jana to be the same age as Evie. Had they gone to school together? Been friends? There didn’t seem to be any love lost between the two women. Besides, Evie’s hand had tightened in his.
“It was nice to meet you all, but if you’ll excuse us, ladies, we have some dancing to do.” He felt Evie’s surprise, but this wasn’t the moment to explain.
He drew her along with him toward the dance floor.
“You really want to dance?” she asked when they were out of earshot of the three women.
“Of course, this is my favorite song.”
Evie’s smile was faint, but it was there, and that was good enough for Carson. The music had slowed down, which was perfect, and Carson drew her close. Tucking her under his chin, he kept one hand on the small of her back and the other clasping hers against his chest.
