38. Chapter Thirty-eight
Chapter Thirty-eight
Phoebe
I loved the steady clap of boots on a worn wooden floor. The air inside the Boots Up Bar was thick with the scent of whiskey and beer, heated bodies, and an underlying trace of sunshine from too many cowboy hats packed in one space. The rhythm of the music blasting through the speakers settled in my bones and stirred my belly.
Tilly and Chris had disappeared onto the dance floor a while ago, but Deacon was still nursing a beer and eyeing the crowd warily. I was itching to move, but I could wait until he was ready.
Coming to Boots Up had been his idea—we’d been supposed to do this a couple months ago, after all—but now that we were here, he didn’t seem too sure about actually dancing in public.
Deacon turned to me. “Did I say you look beautiful?”
I grinned. “About a hundred times.” I’d never get tired of knowing how much he appreciated the effort I’d put into looking good for him.
He leaned into me, touching his lips to my cheek. “I’m gonna enjoy the hell out of sundress season.”
I’d worn my favorite one for him. Red, with little white flowers all over it. It buttoned down the front, and as soon as he’d seen me in it, he’d undone a few to peek beneath.
“I guess it’s a good thing I have a collection of them to wear for you.”
From the throngs of dancers, Tilly appeared and grabbed my hand. “Come on, girl. If Deke won’t dance with you, let me take you for a spin.”
I glanced at Deacon. “Do you mind?”
He lifted his chin. “Go. Have fun. But don’t wander too far. I don’t want to lose you.”
“Not a chance of that," I called as Tilly pulled me into the crowd.
The next song kicked in—a fast-paced two-step I could dance in my sleep. Tilly took the lead, holding one of my hands, the other on the center of my back. We weren’t smooth since leading didn’t exactly come naturally to her, but we found our groove quickly.
I’d danced with girlfriends plenty when we didn’t feel like dealing with any of the guys at the bar, and it was always a good time. Tilly and I laughed our way through the first song, then got serious during the second. By the third, she was spinning me like a professional.
We were both sweaty and having a grand ol’ time when two guys in black Stetsons got in our space.
“Looks like you ladies could use some real partners,” one called over the music.
“Lucky for you, we’re available,” the other one said around a jaw full of chew.
“No thanks. We’re good,” Tilly stated, spinning us away from them.
Of course they didn’t get the hint. The one who smelled like rotten tobacco put his hand on my shoulder, trying to pry me away from Tilly.
I turned my head to glare at him. “No, thank you. Neither of us wants to dance with you.”
He yanked his hand away and raised his brows like he was surprised at how firm I was being. “Hey, no harm meant, darlin’. No need to get all snappy.”
Before I could tell him not to call me darlin’, an arm slid around my middle, and Chris appeared behind Tilly.
“There a problem here?” Deacon asked, tugging me back into his chest.
Chris glowered at the cowboys. “These women told you they’re not interested. That should’ve been the end of it.”
The first guy tipped his hat. “We’re just looking for dance partners, not a fight. But a tip for you: you don’t want other men trying to dance with your lady; you need to be out on the dance floor with them.”
The black-hatted men wandered off, looking for other women to dance with, and Chris pulled Tilly into his arms, taking back the lead.
I turned around to face Deacon. “Thanks for the rescue. We would’ve been fine, though.”
He took my hand in one of his, and the other claimed my waist. “I’m sure you would’ve, but that guy had a point. I don’t want other men dancing with my lady, so I need to be out here with her.”
“Are you going to dance with me, Deacon Slater?”
He lowered his forehead to mine. “I can’t guarantee I’ll be as good a partner as Tilly, but I’m gonna try.”
His first steps were hesitant and unsure, but as he led me, and neither of us stumbled, he began to relax, beat by beat.
“You’re doing it, honey,” I encouraged, flashing him a smile. “This isn’t so bad, is it?”
“I feel like I’m about to step on your feet.”
“Don’t worry. I’ve got my boots on. I can take it.” I tapped the toe of my boot against his, and his answering grin gave me that swoopy feeling in my stomach. This man…god, did I have the biggest crush on him.
The next song picked up, and so did we, spinning and swaying across the floor. And for just a little while, everything around us faded away until it was just the two of us. No rules or worrying about hitting the rhythm just right. If he stepped on my toes, I barely noticed. Deacon set aside his insecurity to have fun with me the way I loved. My hand tucked in his, I was happier than I remembered being in a long time—and I’d been pretty damn happy lately.
When the music slowed again, he pulled me close. I turned my head and softly sang along with the love song, humming through the lyrics I didn’t know. His hand flexed on my back, and he rubbed his scruff against my cheek.
“ I got you ,” I sang. “ Down to the lowest and all the times in between. I got you, hope you know it’s you and me ’til the end. I got you…”
His breath was hot on my neck. Then his lips scorched my skin as he kissed a line from my ear lobe to my collarbone. He held me so tight we were barely swaying. I kept singing words that weren’t mine, but the sentiment I shared and felt deeply. I knew he was feeling it right along with me. Deacon made no bones about showing me how much he loved and adored me. Always reaching for me, caring for me, telling me when he appreciated something I did, saying the words often and unabashedly.
When the song ended and the next kicked back up, I lifted my head and smiled. “I could use a beer.”
“Then you’ll have a beer,” he replied.
Tilly and Chris were at our high-top table, their heads tilted toward one another. From their puppy-dog expressions, I wondered how long they’d been watching us. Probably a while.
“I knew you’d enjoy yourself,” Chris announced. “Nothing better than dancing with your woman.”
Tilly giggled. “Well, I can think of one or two things that are better.”
Chris winked at his wife. “Hell yeah, and those are pretty much guaranteed to happen after a night out dancing.”
They were seriously the cutest couple. I loved how mismatched they seemed yet how actually perfect they were for one another. More than that, I loved how much they cared for Deacon.
“Agreed on all points,” Deacon said, pulling me into his side and kissing my temple. “As always, once I got my head out of my ass, I started having a good time.”
“It’s almost like those cowboys were paid actors with the sole job of getting you out on the dance floor,” I said.
His fingers dug into my hip. Not painfully, but hard enough to catch my attention. He didn’t like thinking about those guys talking to us—to me. That message was loud and clear.
“They’re lucky they backed off.” Chris grinned. “I swear, my man vaulted over a few people to get to you, Phoebe. I’ve never seen him move that fast.”
Deacon’s chin lowered. “Funny, I seem to remember you sprinting right next to me.”
Chris shrugged. “I’m a jealous beast; what can I say? Till can dance her little heart out with her girlfriends, but the day she said yes to being my girl, I became the only guy who’ll lead her around the dance floor.”
“It’s true.” Tilly put her head on Chris’s big shoulder. “I willingly married a caveman.”
I turned to Deacon. “I’m sorry to tell you, I can’t promise never to dance with other men.” His brow dropped in an instant, so I decided not to tease him for long. “I can’t pass up a dance with my father and, occasionally, one of my brothers.”
He exhaled, and after a beat, the corner of his mouth lifted. “I think I can handle that.”
Tilly reached across the table to swat my arm. “I hear your sister’s getting married. Tell me about it.”
“Oh boy.” Hannah wasn’t a bridezilla, but she wanted what she wanted, and it was driving our mother a little batty. “She and Remi don’t want to wait to get married. They’ve been engaged for three weeks and decided on a September wedding at the ranch.”
Tilly’s eyes widened. “Next September?”
“No, the one three months away,” I replied.
Deacon chuckled. “Elena’s making it happen, come hell or high water.”
Poor Deacon had been invited with me to my family’s house for brunch, which had turned into a surprise wedding planning meeting. He’d watched the whole thing, his expression shell-shocked when my mother brought out the giant wedding binder.
My father had patted him on the shoulder and said, “ Just let it happen, son. All you have to do is show up in a suit when it’s your day. ”
We moved on to other topics, laughing, drinking, then dancing the night away. Well…Deacon didn’t do much more drinking since he was driving, but he seemed to be having just as much fun as the rest of us.
When Tilly and I needed a bathroom break, he followed us, waiting in the hallway while Chris held the table. We didn’t really need an escort, but if it made him feel better, I wasn’t going to tell him not to do it.
Tilly and I did our business and met by the sinks. Catching my eye in the mirror, she smiled.
“Things work out how they’re supposed to, huh?”
“Yeah,” I sighed. “Sometimes you have to get past all the bad stuff in the beginning to make it to the good.”
We were still chatting as we stepped into the hallway. People milled around us, making it hard to see ahead. We pushed through, and it wasn’t until we were almost upon Deacon I realized he wasn’t alone.
The brunette looked vaguely familiar, but the shock of red hair on the man facing him made my stomach drop. Even with his back turned, Richie Slater was impossible to mistake.
Deacon saw me and, just like he had months ago, gave a subtle shake of his head. The message to stay away was clear. Unfortunately, Tilly hadn’t picked up on it. She strode forward, sidling up beside Deacon with an easy grin.
“Hey, Deke.” She gave his shoulder a playful punch. “Phoebe and I are itching for another swing around the dance floor before we take off.”
I hovered two feet away, watching it all go down. Richie turned to Tilly first. She went stiff as a board, finally realizing who Deacon had been talking to. Then he swiveled toward Deacon, his gaze flicking past his brother, landing on me. The moment recognition set in, a slow, bone-chilling grin stretched across Richie’s face.
“ Phoebe Kelly ,” he called. “Don’t be a stranger. Come over here, girl.”
We were basically strangers, and though I would’ve rather kept it that way, I unglued my feet and trudged forward.
“Hey, Richie,” I said.
The woman hanging on his arm waved. “Hi. I’m Jennifer, Richie’s girlfriend.”
Like she wasn’t even there, his eyes dragged over me, lingering far too long on my chest before meeting my eyes. He waggled his eyebrows. “Damn. You’ve grown up, haven’t you?”
I kept the nausea out of my expression as best I could. “We haven’t seen each other in years. That’s how time works.”
Richie rubbed his chin, something devious going on behind his unnaturally bright eyes. “I don’t know about that. Saw you in Laramie a couple months ago when I was out with Deke. I’m not much of a betting man, but I’d say the odds of you happening to show up where Deke is twice are pretty damn low.” His gaze bounced between us, sharp as a razor’s edge. “So… are you two together ?”
Deacon immediately stepped in front of me. “That’s enough. I told you I’m not gonna do it, Rich. That’s all there is to it. I’m not interested in continuing this conversation with you, and you have nothing to say to Phoebe.”
Jennifer frowned. “Let’s calm down. There’s no need for anyone getting mad.”
Richie’s grin became maniacal. “Whoa, you are together,” he said, completely ignoring his girlfriend. “Congrats on landing a Kelly. I didn’t know you had it in you.”
“Fuck off,” Deacon gritted out. Grabbing my hand and planting his other on Tilly’s shoulder, he steered us away from his brother without another word.
We barely made it a few steps before Richie threw out one last parting shot.
“You might want to rethink that answer, little brother. Think real, real hard . ”
Deacon didn’t flinch, and his stride hadn’t faltered, though his grip on me tightened as he guided us straight to Chris, who was already standing at alert.
“Did I see Richie?”
“Yep.” Deacon handed Tilly off to Chris and pulled me deeper into his side. I didn’t know what exactly was going on, but tension radiated off him like summer heat on pavement. “It’s time to go.”
I didn’t care about the night being cut short or running into Richie. I cared about the shutters that had gone down over Deacon’s eyes. He’d locked himself down, and I had no idea how to find the key.
All I could do was trust he’d open back up to me.