Two
KATRINA
FOUR YEARS EARLIER
“Feel like heading out to Buckles and Spurs?” Savanah asked. “It’s Friday night, and the place will be packed with every cowboy boot and felt hat in town because of the rodeo this weekend.”
Savanah loved country music almost as much as she loved a man in tight Wranglers and a pair of boots.
She’d always been my wingman when we went out, making sure I didn’t end up wrapped around another bad decision like Ross.
I couldn’t say no, even though saying no was exactly what I wanted to do.
I’d gone to Buckles and Spurs with her a few times before, and not one thing about the place even felt like me.
I was a city girl, not some farm girl trying to wrangle herself a country boy.
The smell of cow, horse and chicken shit was not something I wanted to wake up to, no matter how good-looking a guy was.
Still, Savanah had the look on her face, and I knew if I stayed home, she’d just drag me out of my own head another way.
We grabbed a table near the dance floor and Savanah headed to the bathroom.
I sat watching couples scoot two steps forward and one step back across the worn wood like they’d been born knowing how to do it.
I’d just taken a sip of my drink when a deep voice behind me asked if I wanted to dance.
I had every intention of saying no, but the second I turned in my chair and looked up at him, my heart flipped in my chest. He had a chiseled jaw, one green eye and one blue, and somehow what should’ve looked strange only made him hotter.
There was something about the way he looked down at me—easy, confident, like he already knew I was going to say yes.
It sent a shiver all the way through me.
And when he smiled, Lord help me, I felt it everywhere.
“Want to dance, little lady?” His southern drawl had me swallowing hard before I could even think of a response.
“I don’t dance. At least not a line dance,” I said, glancing up at the speakers where some fast country song was still playing. He opened his mouth like he was about to try and change my mind, but before he could, the music shifted into a slow waltz.
“The name’s Gordon. Tell me you know how to waltz.”
I wanted to lie and tell him I didn’t, but there was something in his eyes—hope, maybe a little amused. It had me standing before I could talk myself out of it. “I sure do.”
Gordon placed his hand at the small of my back and guided me toward the dance floor like he’d done it a hundred times before.
The second my feet hit the wood; I slipped my right hand into his left and his other arm came around my waist while I rested mine on his bicep.
I could feel the hard muscle beneath his denim shirt, solid and warm under my hand, and for one stupid second I forgot every reason I should’ve said no.
As we rounded the dance floor, I spotted Savanah sitting at our table, and the second we passed by, she shot me a glare sharp enough to cut through me.
It was the kind of look that said she already had thoughts, and none of them were good.
A warning, plain and simple, letting me know she wasn’t thrilled about the possessive man wrapped around me like he already had some kind of claim.
I looked up into Gordon’s eyes, and I saw it then.
He wasn’t some country bumpkin out for a good time.
There was something harder in him, something steady and sure, like he knew exactly what he wanted, and the way he had me in his arms told me he wasn’t the type to let go easily once he got his hands on something he wanted.
Normally, possessiveness like his wouldn’t have scared me.
If I was being honest, it probably would’ve pulled me in more.
But knowing I was going to have to defend every little thing about the man in front of me to my best friend had me counting down the seconds until the song ended.
By the time we made two more passes around the dance floor.
I’d learned Gordon worked as an electrician for a company based out of Long Beach, California, and his mom, dad, and brother all lived here in town.
He was just in for the weekend to visit.
For some reason knowing he didn’t live here should’ve made me feel better, and part of me guessed it did.
It took some pressure off, like whatever this was could stay right here on the dance floor and not follow me home.
But at the same time, it left this small ache in my chest I wasn’t ready to admit to, because it also meant this might be the first and last time I ever saw him.
And if I was being honest with myself, some part of me already knew I wanted there to be a second time.
When the song ended, I thanked Gordon for the dance and made myself walk away before I could do something stupid, like let him pull me in for another one and forget Savanah was sitting at the table alone.
I came with her, and no matter how good he felt with his hands on me, I wasn’t about to ditch my best friend for some man I’d known all of five minutes.
So I did what I came there to do. I went back to her.
“So?” Savanah raised a brow, already waiting on me to say what she could probably read all over my face.
“So what?” I inquired.
“What are you doing, Kat? I know that look in your eyes. You’re into him.”
I wanted to deny it, but Savanah had called me on my crap too many times before. She knew me too well, and deep down I knew she was right. Something about him had gotten under my skin way too fast.
“Are you leaving me to ride this table solo?” Savanah frowned.
“No. I wouldn’t do that to you.” It stung a little, knowing she even thought I would leave her there alone. “I came with you, and I’ll leave with you. You have my word.”
And I stayed at the table, sneaking glances at Gordon and trying to act coy, even though every part of me was hoping he’d come back for me.
But as the night wore on, I watched woman after woman drift to his side at the bar, laughing too close, touching his arm, like they had every right to.
He danced with more than a few of them too, and I hated how much it got to me.
I had no claim on him, no reason to care, but it didn’t stop the sting from creeping into my chest. By the time the bartender announced last call, I was irritated, disappointed, and way more invested than I ever meant to be.
I’d barely made it to the front door when a hand wrapped around mine.
I knew it was him before I even turned around.
“Give me your phone.”
It wasn’t a request. It felt like a demand, and my traitorous body gave in before my brain could catch up. I handed him my phone and watched while he tapped his number like there was never a question I’d give it to him. A second later, I heard his phone ping and knew exactly what he’d done.
“Now you know how to find me. I’ll be back next week, and I’d like to see you again.”
“We’ll see,” I said with a smile, trying to sound aloof like I had any real intention of making him work for it. But the truth was, the second he looked at me with so much confidence, he already knew he’d be seeing me again.