Page 43 of Destry

I grinned, shaking my head. “You really don’t let me sit in my feelings?”

He smirked, reaching out and gently tugging one of my loose curls. “Not when I know you’ll get in your own way if I do.”

I couldn’t argue with him because he was right. He knew me better than anyone. We sat there for a while, letting the bar move around us. It felt reminiscent of that first night we spent here but this time no bet was required for me to be sitting here with him. I was exactly where I wanted to be, willingly. After a while, Destry shifted, reaching for his hat and setting it down on the chair next to him.

“Come dance with me?” he said casually.

I lifted a brow. “You want to dance?”

He smirked, tipping his chin toward the floor. “Yeah, come on.”

I paused for a minute, taking him in. His low cut beard framed the angles of his jaw, neatly trimmed but still rough enough to give him that rugged, sexy appeal.

His tattoos peeked from under the worn cotton of his T-shirt with the ink trailing down his forearms contrasting against his smooth skin. I had traced those tattoos more times than I could count, running my fingers over them when he held me and pressed lazy kisses down my neck while we were tangled together in his bed.

Tonight, he was effortlessly casual—jeans, boots, and a simple white T-shirt that fit perfectly, clinging to the muscle beneath it. Simple but he was still the best damn thing in here.

The kind of man who turned heads without trying and carried himself with the kind of confidence that couldn’t be bought and he knew it.

“You gonna dance with me or stare, Rebel?

I hesitated, but then he stood, offering me his hand and I took it willingly.

He pulled me into him with one arm looping low around my waist, holding me against his chest as he swayed us to the song filtering through the speakers like he owned every second of it.

I leaned into his chest, feeling the rise and fall of his breath and the warmth of him surrounding me as we moved together in an unhurried, lazy rhythm. He kept his eyes on me, intense and focused, like nothing else in this bar, this town, or hell in this world, mattered.

Just me.

"You’re good at this?" I tipped my head up.

Destry smirked and his arms tightened around me. "Only when it comes to you."

I rolled my eyes but smiled too damn wide. There was something about this moment, the quiet way he held me close and the way our bodies fit so damn well together felt good. He was taking his time with me. It wasn’t about the dance. It was about us.

The way he tucked me against him like he’d done it a hundred times before. The way he swayed me without effort and the way my body already knew how to move with his. I let my head rest against his chest.

"Comfortable?" His lips brushed my temple.

I sighed. "Too comfortable."

Destry chuckled and the sound vibrated through his chest.

"Good.”

"Hey, Callahan!"

Destry barely glanced over his shoulder, still holding me against him, still swaying.

"You know you're sitting at number ten now, right? Still got a damn good shot at a buckle in Vegas."

I felt the shift in Destry’s posture, but his movements didn’t falter. He smirked, completely unbothered, and turned his head, answering in that slow, easy drawl.

"Yeah, I do," he said.

Then he looked back at me and his smirk deepened, turning into something else entirely.

"But right now? I'm focused on the woman in my arms." His lips brushed my forehead. “No buckle can compete with this."

…and I was done for.

I tilted my head back, letting my eyes drag slowly over Destry, taking him again. That lazy, easy grin smile was on his face. “Like what you see?”

I rolled my eyes, even as my stomach flipped. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

His grip tightened on my waist, pulling me closer as his lips brushed mine.

“Too late for that. I’ve got the sexiest woman in here.” He winked and I was done for.Again.