“He’ll be more pissed that you lied than anything.”
“I know. I never do this, I swear.” He looked over his shoulder again. “But it’s Jocelyn Mears,” he said her name reverently. “She’s like the hottest girl in the senior class and when she said we oughta do something tonight…dude. It’s my chance with her so I had to take it.”
Dalton sighed.
“You’re gonna call my dad, huh?”
“Nope.”
Kyler’s head snapped up. “What?”
“I’ll give you a jump and send you on your merry way, but there are a couple of conditions.”
“Name ’em. I swear I’ll do anything.”
“First, no more lyin’ to your folks about this kind of stuff. You wanna spend time with a girl, talk to your dad and tell him it’s important. Tell him it’s Jocelyn Mears. I’m sure he’ll understand.”
Kyler looked as if he didn’t believe him.
“Second, I could use a gopher on the house I’m fixing up. I’d expect you to help me out after school, let’s say once a week.”
He nodded vigorously. “Sure, no problem. I can do that.”
The driver’s side door opened and a girl jumped out. “Ky? What’s going on?”
Jocelyn was a very pretty girl—dark hair, dark eyes, a dark hickey on the side of her neck.
Kyler said, “This is my cousin Dalton. He’s gonna give us a jump.”
“Oh. Okay.” She rubbed her arms. “It’s getting cold in there.”
Kyler immediately took off his jacket. “Here. This’ll keep you warm.”
Smooth, kid, real smooth.
Jocelyn offered Kyler a dazzling smile. “Thanks.” Then she crawled back in the cab.
Yeah. Dalton had been thrown for a loop by a smile like that a time or ten in his life. Poor Kyler hadn’t stood a chance.
He clapped him on the shoulder. “Come on. Let’s get that beast running so your girlfriend doesn’t freeze and your dad doesn’t send your Uncle Cam out lookin’ for ya.”
Chapter Eleven
Friday night in the Golden Boot with Rory wasn’t going as well as Dalton had hoped.
She sighed. “We’ve been sitting here alone together for ten minutes and no one has wandered up to chat.”
“Don’t you mean to ask us questions that ain’t none of their business?” Dalton countered.
“It’s Sundance, Dalton. You gotta expect we’re being gawked at and gossiped about.”
“We can leave and go someplace else if you’d rather.”
Rory shook her head.
The stiff way she held herself and the way her eyes darted around the room gave him the impression she didn’t want to be here at all.
“I didn’t mean to chase your friends off.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Yes you did.”
“Was it that obvious I wanted you all to myself?”
“Only to me. And it was sort of pissing me off, the way Vanessa drooled over you.”
“Drooled,” he scoffed. “Right.”
“You are looking particularly drool-worthy tonight, McKay. Nothing sexier than a cowboy in a crisp white shirt, a black hat and a pair of Cinch jeans.”
“How much had you been drinkin’ before I got here?”
“Not nearly enough after the week I had at work.” She drained her drink.
“Special project turning out to be not so special?”
“Frustrating. It’d be easier if all the paperwork came directly to me, but of course it’s gotta be officially stamped in Cheyenne and then forwarded to me so I can log it in which is a gigantic pain in my ass.”
“So that’s what you and your friends discuss on Friday nights? Your crappy work week?”
“No. We’re usually trolling for…” Her mouth snapped shut. “Never mind.”
Dalton swigged his beer, trying really hard not to scour the bar and check out his competition.
“What have you been doing the last couple days?” she asked.
“I worked on the house. They delivered the furniture on Thursday. Planned to do a couple other things but the week got away from me.”
“I know how that goes.”
“Have you eaten?”
“Yeah. Ordering bar food is a habit since I’ve worked in so many bars over the years.”
He sighed. “There goes my chance to wine and dine you on our date.”
“I don’t expect that from you.”
“But you deserve it. And I want to give it to you. How about if we dance?”
“Let’s go.”
He slid out of the booth and took her hand.
She led them to the middle of the dance floor. “None of that fancy two-stepping stuff or western swing you cowboys are fond of.”
“So we’ll just sway together?”
“For a little while. Is that okay?”
“Very okay.”
They didn’t speak through three songs, just moved together in near perfect synch. Their physical closeness and the lack of conversation attuned his senses just to her. The gradual softening of her body against his. The increased tempo of her heart. The quicker intake of her breath.
He brushed his lips over her ear. “I like havin’ you in my arms. Have I mentioned I love that you’re tall?”
She laughed softly. “No.”
“Well, I do. We’re a perfect fit. In every way.”
“Tell me what you’re really thinking,” she said dryly.
“I’m thinkin’ the scent of you so close to me is driving me insane.” Dalton ran his nose along her neck. “Sweet and musky. And goddamn do I want the scent of you all over me.” He wondered if she’d stiffen after that confession, but she melted into him.
“Dalton.”
“Aurora.”
“Nobody calls me that but you.”
“I can call you that all the time, if you’d prefer.”
The soft warmth of her breath on his neck sent a tingle down the right side of his body. “I like that you call me that when we’re alone and you’re being romantic.”
Although the band picked up the pace with a faster song, they continued dancing slow.
He murmured, “Will you come home with me tonight?”
Rory tensed but didn’t answer.
So he continued dancing with her, like it wasn’t killing him to have her curvy body plastered to his. His c**k behaved as long as he didn’t bury his face in her sweet smelling hair, or fill his lungs with the addicting scent of her skin.