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Mia hummed in agreement. “You’ve got to get promoted. Then you’ll have your own team to supervise and get Hank the hell off your back.”
“Either that, or take the singing to the next level.”
“Really?” Mia’s eyebrows crept higher on her forehead.
She’d been after Bubba to consider singing professionally for years—he had an amazing voice, and was the kind of tall, dark, delicious cowboy female country music fans would go crazy for—but he’d always dismissed her suggestions. Bubba’s granddad had been a moderately successful country music star with a few top one hundred hits, but he’d also been a womanizer and general asshole. He’d left Bubba’s grandmother dirt poor, raising five kids, and running a ranch on her own when he took off with his backup singer, never to be heard from again, and no one in the Lawson family had forgotten about it.
Bubba had been raised by people who distrusted work that wasn’t done with your hands, and who shunned fame to the point that Bubba’s mother had refused the San Antonio Art Museum’s offer to include her pottery in a Texas Artisans show, even though it would have boosted sales for her business. Mia had always tried to be understanding of Bubba’s reasons for wanting to keep his singing a purely recreational activity, but she couldn’t deny she was excited to hear he was considering taking his music to the next level.
“I’m proud of you.” Mia clapped him on the back as they slid onto stools at the end of the bar farthest from the stage. “And I’ll help any way I can.”
“I was hoping you’d say that,” Bubba said, grinning as he motioned for the bartender to bring them two of their usual—margaritas on the rocks, no salt, with an extra twist of lime. “Because I’ve got a favor to ask.”
“Shoot.” Mia faced him, turning her back on the stage, where one of her mom’s old friends was singing an off-key version of “Stand by Your Man.”
“I want you to give this Sawyer guy a chance,” Bubba said, wiping the smile from her face. “I talked to him Monday night at the Blue Saloon. I think he’s worth your time, and he seemed to—”
“How is me going out with Sawyer Kane doing you a favor?” Mia asked, anger creeping into her voice. “Seriously, I wish all of y’all would keep your noses out of it. Tulsi’s been riding my ass for days.”
“I’m not riding your ass,” Bubba said. “I’m saying I would feel better about gigs that would take me out of town for a night or two if I knew you were on the mend.”
“I’m fine!” Mia rolled her eyes, ignoring the soft voice inside of her that insisted she wasn’t fine, that she was still hiding from life, and turning down the chance to be with a man who seemed as kind as he was gorgeous. “I don’t need you, or anyone else, to babysit me. And I certainly don’t need a boyfriend, or a booty call, or…whatever, to make my life complete.”
“I never said you did.” Bubba sat up straighter on his stool, pinning her with that stubborn look she knew so well. “And I don’t care if you and Sawyer go on one date, or get married and have ten kids. That’s none of my business. But when I see you turning down a guy who seems to have everything going for him, I start thinking you’re going to be alone for the rest of your life, and I—”
“Since when did you become a dating expert?” The bartender delivered their drinks and Mia scooped hers up immediately, taking a long swallow of the sweet and citrusy margarita before setting it none-too-gently back on the bar. “Maybe I’m looking for something different in a man than a beefcake with giant muscles, who looks good in a cowboy hat. Ever think of that?”
“Who is also a decent guy,” Bubba added. “Good at his job, obviously into you, and only in town for a limited time. It’s not like dating him will lead to having an ex you’ll have to run into at the grocery store every other day. Even if your gram hires Sawyer’s company for the restoration job, he’ll only be around for a year or so at most.”
“I only dated Paul for a year,” Mia said. “That’s plenty of time for things to get crazy, believe me.”
“See, this is what I mean.” Bubba took a drink of his margarita, shaking his head as he swallowed. “The crazies are few and far between, Mia. You have to stop looking at every man as a potential Paul, and start looking at them as normal guys. A guy who might just want to get in your pants, or who lies about how much he can bench press, or who likes drinking with his buddies more than drinking with you, but not a guy who’s going to try to strangle you in your sleep.”
Mia refused to flinch. She didn’t want Bubba to know that she hadn’t reached the point where she could hear that kind of thing thrown around and not feel like she was back in her bedroom in L.A., waking up with Paul’s weight on top of her.
“And I like Sawyer,” Bubba continued, oblivious to how tight Mia’s throat had suddenly become. “We talked a long time Monday night, and I got a solid vibe from him. He seemed into you, but not in a creepy way. I think he’d be a good guy to start with, you know, to get your feet wet again.”
Mia forced down a healthy swig of margarita. “So you’re saying I should use him as a rebound guy?”
“I doubt he’d care.” Bubba ran his hands over his hips, making a sexy-pouty face that was ridiculous. “I wouldn’t mind if a pretty girl decided to use me for my sexy body.”
Mia snorted. “Joke all you want, but you could have any girl in this town, and how long has it been since you’ve been on a date? Five months? More? Are you in any position to tell me I’m not getting out there enough?”
Bubba shrugged. “Yeah, well, maybe I’ll do something about that. After I meet with my new manager Friday night.”
Mia’s jaw dropped as she reached out to slap his thick bicep. “Shut up! You already have a manager?”
Bubba’s answering grin was bashful, and one of the cutest things Mia had seen in weeks. “I signed with her last weekend. She’s setting up some auditions for me Saturday in Austin, trying to get me a few regular weekend gigs. It’s a long way to drive, but I figure it will give me time to finish listening to those Stephen King short story audiobooks Mom bought me for Christmas.”
“Aw, that is so great.” Mia slapped his arm again. “I’m so happy for you, I may have to keep slapping you all night.”
Bubba laughed as his eyes drifted over her shoulder toward the door.
“Seriously,” Mia added. “I think this is going to be great, Bub. I see big things in your future. Are you still going to remember the little people when you’re rich and famous and all the girls are throwing their bras at you while you’re up on stage?”
“Yes,” he said, grinning as he eased off his chair. “And I’m going to remember that you didn’t share any of your bras when we pantied downtown, and keep them all for myself.”
“Ha ha.” Mia frowned as Bubba backed away from his stool. “Where are you going? I thought you had a firm rule about not signing up for karaoke before eight o’clock.”
