Chapter 22 Jovie
Two hours later, I found myself in the back seat of Wylie’s pickup truck, making the 30-mile drive to the Desert Dust Saloon.
As we pulled up, I noted that the building matched Wylie’s vivid description perfectly. The front exuded the charm of an old-timey saloon from the movies, seamlessly connected to a vast warehouse at the back. They had constructed the warehouse as an extension, preserving the old building as a front to welcome guests.
Inside of the warehouse, the scene mirrored the lively exterior. The venue was crammed with bodies donning cowboy boots and hats. Multiple bars were strategically set up around the warehouse, with attendants eagerly serving 50-cent pints of beer to the patrons.
The center of the warehouse was divided into two sections: one housing two brown, mechanical bulls, and the other designated for line dancing couples showcasing intricate foot movements to the blaring tunes of Kenny Chesney and Tim McGraw.
Feeling a bit out of place, I swallowed nervously. Despite donning my shortest pair of daisy duke shorts, a cropped V-neck white tank top, a borrowed white cowboy hat from Clay, and a pair of matching white cowgirl boots recently ordered from online, I couldn’t shake the feeling of being a fish out of water.
Nevertheless, my determination to capture Nash’s attention fueled my efforts. When he and Wylie had picked me up this evening, I’d walked towards Wylie’s awaiting truck with a little extra sway in my hips. I noticed Nash’s eyes never leaving my body, as they performed a slow sweep up and down my figure. I aimed to prove tonight that I wasn’t like his ex. Though I was from the city, I knew how to kick it in the country, too. After a month of abstinence and daily exposure to his sculpted physique while working on the ranch, I needed to know if I could drive him as crazy sexually as he did me.
“Let me grab you a drink,” Clay shouted over the blaring music, and I nodded in agreement, aware that any verbal response wouldn’t be heard at this point.
Wylie scanned the crowded space before his eyes settled on someone across the room. He seized my hand and twirled me in a circle, nearly sending my hat flying. “Give me the first dance, Jovie?” he whispered in my ear.
I nodded, aware that Nash was more than likely keeping a close eye on me though he was now nowhere to be found as Wylie led me onto the dance floor.
The next fifteen minutes involved Wylie guiding me through footwork that was repetitive in nature. I laughed as I clung to him, quickly catching on to the simple movements in sync with the music as I followed his lead. By the third dance, Clay had cut in with my drink and guided me to a table where he sat with three of his friends. I discreetly scanned the room again but couldn't locate Nash.
“Hey Jovie, these are my friends Wyatt, Colt, and Savannah. We went to high school together in Lonestar Junction.”
“Nice to meet you,” I said, smiling politely at the group, two of which were downing 50-cent beers as if it were their first legal sip. I had to remember that this group was barely 21 years old.
Savannah turned to me and asked, “How long are you here for?”
“Just 11 more months. I’m living on my grandfather’s ranch.” She nodded and smiled warmly. She had bright blonde hair and blue eyes but wasn't wearing cowboy boots like the rest of the women in the space. Instead, she had a pair of Nike dunks on her feet. Clay and the other boys stood up to grab another round for the group, and Savannah slid into the seat next to me.
“I’ve known Clay since we were in preschool together. He’s told me about you. Seems like it’s a good thing you’re here.”
I smiled, “I’m glad to hear that. They’ve all been so helpful, and I’ve been really enjoying my time with Clay.”
“It’s hard not to. Everyone loves the Cameron boys, but Clay’s the one with the biggest heart.” She finished off her beer as her eyes cast towards the bar where Clay and his friends were now standing, talking to the bartender.
It dawned on me that Savannah was into Clay. I wondered if Clay realized it and tried to think through how I could help her get his attention.
“Hey, you up to go head-to-head on the bulls with me? Wylie mentioned you can do doubles and compete.”
Her eyes lit up, “I’ve always wanted to do it but never had a girlfriend to go with. Let’s do it!” She stood up, linking her arm with mine as we headed over to the announcer who was also operating as a bookie for the rides.
“Two, please,” I said, handing him a five-dollar bill.
The announcer looked us up and down with a deviant look on his face as he took a slow sweep up my body, and suddenly, I began questioning my outfit decision. I reminded myself this was to help Savannah out to catch Clay’s attention, so I proceeded anyway into one of the pens with the announcer hot behind me.
No one had been riding since we arrived earlier, so it was a big deal when Savannah and I stepped into the ring as all eyes in the bar shifted toward us. The announcer grabbed his mic, bellowing out over the full warehouse.
“Cowboys and cowgirls, we’ve got our first two riders of the night! Please turn your attention this way and place your bets. Is it going to be...” He stooped low towards me, his breath hot and reeking of tobacco and beer, as he pressed the mic covered in his saliva to my cheek.
“I'm Jovie and she's Savannah,” I responded.
“Is it going to be Jovie, our beautiful big green eyes and curvy brunette wearing the white cowgirl hat and shorts so tiny daisy duke would be jealous, or Savannah, our blonde-haired beauty in the green shirt? Win for Jovie and the proceeds go to the Boys & Girls Club. Win for Savannah and they go to the American Cancer Society. You’ve got one minute to place your bets in the buckets in front of the pen before these cowgirls save a horse and ride a bull!” he bellowed.
I wasn’t sure what I had been expecting from our bull riding, but I sure as hell hadn’t expected the 300-plus people in the warehouse to shift their eyes to Savannah and me as the men went wild, throwing their money into the two containers in front of the mechanical bull pens. They whooped and hollered, creating an atmosphere that was almost deafening.
“I wasn’t expecting this,” I whispered to Savannah, but she just beamed, smiling out into the crowd as she walked towards her bull.
“We’ll start low and slow,” the bookie spoke in my ear with a wink, though I had a feeling he had no intentions of giving us a leisurely ride.
I headed into my pen, climbed up on the large bull and did my best to lock my thighs around its thick width. I smiled over at Savannah, who waved back at me, clearly enjoying the attention.
My eyes scanned the crowd as it seemed like everyone in the open space was now watching. Hundreds of dollars were cast into the bucket in front of my pen and Savannah’s. I couldn’t tell, but it looked like I might have edged her out slightly with the bets.
I found Clay in the crowd, now back at the table we’d left and watching the spectacle with an amused look on his face. His eyes were locked on Savannah’s bullpen as he sipped his beer casually.
Shit, now I really must put on a show if I’m going to help her out.
“Alright, ladies and gentlemen, bets are closed. Let’s see how well these girls know how to ride!” the bookie yelled as he pressed a button.
The bull started to move slightly, rocking back and forth with a gentle motion at first. As it completed its first spin, my eyes caught a familiar figure standing near the front, frozen with a beer in his hands, watching – Nash.
What’s that famous saying from the diamond guy, Harry Winston ? 'People will stare – make it worth their while.'
Well, I was now committed to making it worth Nash’s while.