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“See ...” she says, her small hand fanning out to cup my jaw. “You can laugh.”
I roll my eyes, fight my ever-widening smile. “Yeah, well, don’t get used to it.”
“Oh, I am very used to it, Cowboy. No take backs. You must now smile at me at least two percent of the time.”
Well aware the whole damn town has its eyes on us, I grunt. It’s instinctual, the way I reach for her, the way I need her. I pull her stool closer, wanting her next to me so I can inhale her strawberry scent and bask in her sunshine glow. I can’t keep my hands off her. I’d fight the world for just her smile. There’s something about Ruby that calms the strife and the bullshit inside of me.
She’s different from what I’m used to. From what I thought I wanted or needed. I try not to compare women to Maggie. Especially not Ruby. They are completely different species. Maggie was like a storm cloud, and Ruby’s a gentle breeze. But the one thing they have in common is their hearts.
I might be made of gravel, but Ruby—she’s made of gold.
Ruby spears me with her big blue eyes. “I’ve never been in a bar before. Not like this.”
Screws tighten in my chest. The more she talks, the more it sounds like she’s lived in a tower her entire life. It doesn’t sit right with me. But before I can ask, she leans in and whispers, conspiratorially, “So, what do we do?”
I chuckle. “We drink. We people watch. And then we dance.” I point at the band, which is just one guy in suspenders and a top hat, setting up his guitar and an amp. “That’s Marvin. He swears aliens abduct his cows every Tuesday, but he can play a mean cover of ‘All Along the Watchtower,’so we refrain from tarring and feathering him in the square.”
Giggling, she claps her hands together in delight. Right on time, the drinks arrive. “Like I said, I love this bar.”
“Yeah, well, just wait for him to bust out his Irish jig.” I lift my shot. “Cheers, baby.”
“Cheers.”
Ruby takes the shot. I hide a smile at the way her eyes fly open. “Wow,” she breathes. “That’s strong.”
“Hey, check it out.” I point at a muted TV and Ruby’s eyes follow. On screen, Grady, wheeling a guitar, stars in his first music video. “That’s my little brother.”
She flashes me a grin. “Another brother?”
I take a swig of my beer. “Yup.”
“Big family,” she muses, tapping a nail on the table.
“Getting bigger by the second.” I pull out my phone and show her the photo of my nieces. “My baby sister just had twins. Cora and Daisy.”
“Oh, Charlie,” Ruby says, her eyes lighting up as she swipes through the photos. “They’re beautiful.”
Pride swells in my chest. “They are. Need to make it down to Nashville one of these days.”
Ruby’s gaze flicks to my face, assessing. “You like kids?”
“Yeah.” I clear my throat, the admission like a switchblade in my gut. “I do. I love kids.”
As one of six, I want the mess and chaos that comes with a big family. Whatever the world threw my way, I had my siblings. No dull moments, lots of laughter, love. Family rests at the core of who I am as a man. It’s everything that’s important, that matters in this world.
When I glance over, I see Ruby’s lost in thought, her light dimmed.
I don’t like it. Reaching over, I smooth a hand down her bare arm, wanting to make her happy. “You all right?”
“I’m fine,” she says on an exhale. She takes a sip of her beer and shrugs a slender shoulder. “Just ...taking it all in.”
So that’s what I do too.
From my seat, I can see the entire bar. Couples two-step across the dancefloor, and there’s a group of cowboys playing darts. Tina, off tonight, sits with her husband at the bar. An unfamiliar group of city kids, wearing backward baseball hats and polos, pound shots at a horseshoe booth.
That’s when I see Wyatt and a woman with a mass of blue-black curls, her lips red as a crime scene.
He’s at a corner table cozying up to Sheena Wolfington, My brother nods at me, but returns his attention to Sheena, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her close.
