Lang arrived early and found a quiet booth at the back of the Bulldog. It had been years since he had stepped into the smoky saloon. Its dark red walls were covered with black-and-white rodeo photos punctuated with racks of antlers and a few stuffed heads. He declined a drink and told the bartender he’d be back when his date arrived. Russ Keeler, bartender and owner, nodded and went back to his work. There were only a handful of customers, all strangers to Lang. On his way to the booth, he grabbed a newspaper from the rack near the bar. It was a local daily and had about two paragraphs of national and international news.
As he flipped through the farm reports and local interest stories, Lang realized he had no idea what was happening in the world. He was reading the schedule for the upcoming county fair when she walked in, hazel eyes scanning the room until she spied him.
He looked up from his reading and smiled, that dazzling smile that made her go weak at the knees. As she strolled the length of the bar, she decided this meeting was a huge mistake. She hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast and felt lightheaded and faint. It didn’t help that he looked gorgeous as usual, in a soft plaid shirt and jeans, his beautiful blue eyes apprising every inch of her.
Lang’s jaw dropped open as he watched her approach. In fact, every man in the place had his eyes glued to her. As she sashayed closer, he noticed every nuance, every breath. Her jeans were worn but fit her snugly, and her tee shirt, or whatever it was, left nothing to the imagination. It hugged her lithe, long frame like a second skin, her soft rounded breasts outlined and peeking out, framed by plunging neckline. Oh, sweet Jesus, he thought. How am I ever gonna walk away from her?
Lang stood as she reached the table. “Hey, you look amazing and about as far from gamey as they get.”
She laughed. “I had time to go home for a shower.”
“What’ll you have?”
“Beer would be great. And can you ask for some peanuts or something? I haven’t eaten all day.”
“Do they have food here? Wanta order something?”
“Peanuts would be fine,” she said, smiling demurely.
Beth Morgan, I believe you know just how great you look, and you’re flirting with me, he thought. “Be back in thirty seconds.”
Somehow, Lang Dillon seemed to have turned on a switch inside her. Steady, girl! She watched his strong, sinewy back as well as the rest of him as Lang headed for the bar. This is not you. You don’t flirt. You don’t even know how to flirt!
When he returned, he had a pitcher of beer and a basket of peanuts. “They have nachos and wings. Shall I order some?”
“No, these are fine,” she said, grabbing a handful of peanuts, shelling and eating them before she dared touch her beer.
Lang watched her, saying nothing, letting her settle in. “Peanuts good?”
“Yes, I needed them.” Beth took a swig of beer before meeting his gaze. Why did he have to have those amazing blue eyes? In the dim saloon light, they turned smoky-gray. Deep, mysterious, sexy gray.
“Thanks for seeing me, Beth.”
“No problem.” She shrugged, trying to keep her tone light and friendly. Who was she kidding?
“So, how’d today go?”
“Smooth, thank goodness. Not my favorite day, but it’s part of it.”
“And you’re off to see Bill tomorrow?”
“Yes.”
“For what reason?”
“We need to talk, to settle some things.”
“He wants you back, doesn’t he?”
“Yes.”
“Is that what you want?”
“I don’t know. I’m having trouble trusting what I want and don’t want right now.”
“What about us?”
Beth drank half of her beer, downing it as if she had been crawling across the desert and had finally reached water. “What does ‘us’ mean to you?”
“I don’t know, but I think we should find out, don’t you?”
“How? You’re leaving next week, and I’m in no shape to explore a new relationship, certainly not a long-distance one.”
“The other night was incredible, Beth,” he said, voice husky as he reached across the table.
Beth placed both hands in her lap. “The other night was not me. This is not me, either,” she said, gesturing to her attire.
“Maybe it’s the you that’s been waiting to emerge?”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“I’m not. Listen, I felt something with you that I’ve never felt for another woman. That’s something, isn’t it?” His eyes pleaded as he reached across the table, palms open.
“I think it was alcohol and lust.”
“Bullshit. You don’t believe that any more than I do. Listen, I’m going crazy here, Beth.”
She downed her beer and poured another.
“You might want to go easy on that if you haven’t eaten.”
In answer, she took a long, slow drink until half her beer was gone. “I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not. Let’s get out of here and we’ll get something to eat.”
“I feel like ice cream,” she said, downing the rest of her beer.
“Good, let’s go.” He threw money on the table and stood, holding out his hand to her. She ignored him and jumped up, only to sway back and almost fall into her seat.
Lang grabbed hold of her arm and lifted her, then held her round the waist with his other. “Whoa, sweetheart. Steady now.”
“I’m fine.” She pushed away from him and staggered toward the door, the sashaying long forgotten.
“Oh, boy,” he muttered. “This should be interesting.”