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Stan groans dramatically, putting a hand to his back like he’s faking an injury. “Ah, sorry, Cassidy, I messed my back up yesterday.”
Tanner nods with a beaming smile. “Yeah, same here.”
Stan shakes his head, laughing.
“I’m good,” Duke tells me.
I turn to Butch, his lip curls in a mixture of a smile and a cringe. He invited me out tonight, I recall boldly. Not thinking twice, I grab his rough, mountain-worked hand. “Come dance with me.” I bat my eyes and give his arm a gentle tug. “Please.”
He groans, reluctantly standing—but I’m not sure how “reluctant” he really is because he’s got a grin on his face that’s saying otherwise. His hold on my hand tightens. “I can’t dance for shit.”
I giggle. “Neither can I. Come on.” I tug him behind me onto the packed dance floor. The music booms a rock-country ballad with a hint of a grind to it, just the right amount you can roll your body to.
Butch grins down at me as I throw my arms up and around his thick neck. He leans down, gripping my hips with his strong hands as I start to sway and roll my body against his. He doesn’t move much, just enough to make it look like he’s not just standing there.
“Thanks for inviting me out,” I say as he leans his head further down to hear me over the music.
His hands flex. Fingers curling into the belt loops of my shorts, he holds me tighter against him. “You havin’ a good time?”
I nod, smiling up at him as my hand trails up the back of his neck threading through his hair. My nails gently scrape the back of his head in a light tease. Did I say I hated this guy a few weeks ago? Because that’s starting to feel more likedecadesago.
Butch growls, dipping his head toward my neck. His hot breath fans me, sending goosebumps over my already heated skin. “Me, too.”
I can feel the heat building between us—and between my thighs. We dance like this for three more songs laughing, grinding, and teasing one another until he’s telling Lauren to get lost again when she tries to cut in.
“Do you want another drink?” he finally asks, pulling away. I nod. “I’ll get it. You head back to the table.”
“Okay.” I smile as he turns away, shamelessly gawking at his tight ass in those dark-wash jeans before he’s swallowed up by the crowd.
When I take my seat back at the table, I realize how much I already miss that big mass of strongmanpressed against me. I reach for my phone, catching Duke’s cocky smile directed my way. Stan’s busy with some girl on his lap, whispering in her ear, while Tanner watches them as if he’s diligently studying whatever Stan’s saying to make her laugh.
“Can’t say I’ve ever seen Butch dance for four songs in a row like that,” Duke comments.
Warmth flashes through me. “Oh, yeah?” I lean toward him over the table, trying to think of the best way to ask this. “What’s his deal? I mean, I know he’s had a good bit to drink like the rest of us, but he’s actually being somewhat…nice? He’s usually always such a dick.”
Duke chuckles. “Yeah, I don’t really know how to answer that honestly. It’s just how he is.” He shrugs. “He’s not always an asshole. It’s more like he saves the better side of himself for the people he cares about, ya know? The rest get, well, you know.”
Oh, I do know. And I have to say, I’m liking this side of Butch awholelot more. Maybe even a littletoomuch, if I’m being honest with myself.
Tapping the side of my phone, I think for a beat if I should text Alison not to bother picking me up tonight. Should I? Truthfully, I’m not all that sure. Granted, I’m a tipsy sort of drunk, but I feelgood. My head is clear enough. I’m having fun. And more so, I’m starting to enjoy the company of a certain broody mountain man.
Would it be wrong of me to want to extend the night a little further?
Before I can ask Duke what he thinks about the situation, a commotion steals everyone’s attention. I follow the collective line of sight and watch my brother getting in Butch’s face by the bar. Butch puts a hand on Garrett’s chest, no doubt trying to keep him back, but Garrett’s not letting up. He’s shoving him back.Hard.
Can’t I get one good night that ends well? Justone.
Standing from his seat, Duke sighs at the situation unfolding across the bar.
I grab my purse and stand, too, pushing through the crowd and over to Garrett trying to pick a fight, yet again. Butch is saying something to him, but whatever it is, my brother doesn’t want to hear it. There’s a fight wanting to be had in Garrett’s eyes, glossed over with his misplaced rage.
I’ve seen that look before. He’s in one of his drunken lows.
When I get within earshot, I catch my brother yell, “You think you’re better than me, huh?”
Great. It’sthislow again.
I sigh heavily, coming up behind Butch at the same time Garrett shoves him, harder this time. Enough to push him into me. I yelp in surprise. Butch quickly wraps a strong arm around me, catching me before I tumble on my ass.
