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My eyes move to my best friend’s left hand, expecting her giant diamond to glint in the neon lights where it rests against her margarita glass. But she’s not wearing her ring. I freeze for a second, feeling like a horrible friend for just now noticing—has she been without her ring all day? Or did she forget it back at the cabin when we were getting ready?
“Is that right?” Owen drawls. “I’m roping at the rodeo. I’ll look for you in the crowd.” He smiles. “You can be my good luck charm.”
Blair looks him up and down, schooling her features into a bored expression. I wait for her to tell Owen she’s engaged, but instead she takes a slow sip of her drink before responding, “no thanks.”
He laughs off her comment, shaking his head. “Well, you should at least stop by the dunk tank and dunk Linc.”
Blair quirks an eyebrow. “Okay, now that sounds fun.”
Everyone at our table laughs.
Calla sweeps through the bar with a tray of drinks. Her eyes find the guys at our table and she rushes over, handing them each their beers. “Here you go, for my three handsomest patrons.” She directs the statement to Lincoln.
He removes his hand from my thigh, bringing it up to rest across the back of the booth, around my shoulders.
With his free hand, he picks up his beer and raises it toward her. “Thanks, Calla.”
Her eyes widen at his hand on my shoulder, then she winks at me and rushes off.
A cozy warmth fills me from my head to my toes. Loving the way he respectfully let her know he wasn’t interested in her attention. The way he let everyone know he’s only interested in me.
Another twangy country song ends, and a soft, slow song begins.
“Dance with me,” Lincoln says.
My eyes move to my best friend. I don’t want to abandon her to a table full of people she barely knows.
“Go dance!” She wiggles her fingers in a wave. “I’ll be fine here with my margarita.” Blair takes a sip to solidify her point, then licks the salt off her lips.
Owen stares at her mouth, mesmerized.
Poor guy.
Lincoln slides out of the booth, taking my hand and leading me to the dance floor, where he sweeps me into his arms. He moves with the music in a perfect two-step.
“Wow,” I marvel. “I didn’t realize you had such good moves.”
He arches a brow. “You seemed to enjoy my moves just fine the other night—”
“Shhh!” I shush him, glancing around to make sure no one heard him. “I don’t want to be part of the Honey Badger Creek gossip page.”
His lips twitch. “Hattie, you already are.”
My jaw drops. “You’re kidding.”
Lincoln’s hand slides dangerously low on my back. “Yep. But not about your love life…just you being Hank’s daughter.”
Something twists in my gut as I wonder how Hank feels about the whole town knowing his business.
Lincoln swings me out, then spins me back in until my back rests against his front. He wraps his arms around me and sways us to the music. Being wrapped up in him fills me with a sense of calm, a knowledge I can relax in his capable hands. That he’ll take care of me.
It’s strange. A few months ago, I thought I was happy enough. But in reality, I kept my schedule too full to understand how lonely my life was. I love spending my days with Oakley, but I’ve been sorely lacking in human interaction. Blair has been the only person in my life, until now, who cares about me outside of show jumping.
My mother talks to my trainer more than she does to me, and when she calls or texts, it’s always something related to an upcoming competition.
Since arriving in Montana, though, everyone treats me like just a person. Not a champion, not an investment, just Hattie. And I love it.
Lincoln’s warm hand gently pinches my chin, tilting my head so I’m looking up at him. “What’s going on in that head of yours? You look like you’re a million miles away.”
