Chapter Twenty-Six
Colton was stepping inside when he looked back to see my reaction.
I was chuckling nervously in disbelief. “You’re kidding, right?”
He shrugged. “That depends.”
“On?”
“If you’re chicken or not,” he said, surprising me.
I looked at the band on stage. A young cowboy with a guitar backed by a high-energy band. They were putting their heart and souls into every word, every note of the song, with a bass that echoed in my heart.
In the middle of the dance floor, two-steppers were flying, a high-speed blur of cowboy hats and western fringe.
The center of the wood floor was a war zone.
Over thirty people were standing in a perfect grid.
The song shifted, the heavy “stomp-clap” beat of a line dance taking over, and suddenly, they all moved at once.
I chuckled again.
“Well, are you ready?”
This time, Colton didn’t wait for me to respond. His fingers wrapped around the fabric of my dress and pulled gently. I took a breath, praying no one from my high school would see this. “You’ve got a death wish, cowboy.”
He pulled me as close to his face as he could and whispered. “Why do you think I rodeo, cowgirl?” His mouth brushed my ear as he pulled away. “Show me what you’ve got, Ally.”
My hands were clammy and cold. I thought I was going to die right then and there, but he was shuffling back. I was like a magnet being drawn to him, impossible to pull away.
I swallowed hard as I positioned myself beside Colton, praying they would play a song I knew the line dance for.
The odds of that were good; I practically lived here in high school.
The bouncer was my dad’s best friend, and after he died, nobody could tell me what to do or what not to do.
I was a rebel teenager, with pink streaks in my hair as my act of revolt.
I wanted to be away from my mother and the morgue we called a house as much as possible.
So, naturally, I went to a bar that was famous for live music and line dancing.
Not to brag or anything, but I got really good at country line dancing.
The excited energy around us was palpable. The sober and tipsy were anxious for the next song to start so they could jump and dance as one, forgetting they were strangers in a bar. Around the dance floor was the “audience.”
The “audience” was people who were taking a breather from dancing, people too drunk to dance, cowboys too cool to dance, and anyone else you could imagine in an Amarillo bar. They all had their eyes peering at us, making me swallow hard.
How had it been that only a few years ago, I had done this so easily, without a single thought of what anyone else thought? Now, I was terrified. I didn’t want to embarrass myself in front of all these strangers, forced to be an amusing memory in their heads forever.
Colton, on the other hand, the man who truly enjoyed being the center of attention, was grinning and looking around the bar.
Gosh, I wanted just a smidge of his confidence, that’s all I asked.
The guitar started in a familiar twinge, sending my heart into a flip-flop. I knew this one by heart; it was one of my favorites, but man, it was hard. Colton was tapping his foot, watching the instructors carefully.
Once the instructors had gone through the dance twice, it was our turn.
We didn’t just stand there; we were slotted into a grid. Ten rows deep, six dancers wide. A sea of pearl snaps, fringe, floral dresses, and a whole lotta cowboy boots, all facing the same direction, waiting for the beat to drop. The air was heavy, like the second before a storm hits.
The beat dropped, a heavy hollow thud that vibrated through my teeth, and we all fell into the synchronized rhythm. On the count of four, every cowboy and cowgirl on that dance floor slammed their heels into the wood at the same time.
It sounded like a gunshot.
Colton was still learning the dance, but he was catching on shockingly quickly. He was even starting to put his hips into it, surprising me. When he caught me looking at him, he gave me a cheeky smile and exaggerated his hip movements.
I laughed and copied his over-the-top moves.
In high school, of course, I had shaken and shimmied all over this floor. I wanted to be rebellious, cause some trouble, and dare anyone to tell me what to do.
I shoved that version of myself in the old cardboard box with my cowgirl boots, but how I longed for her confidence.
With every beat of the song, I could feel that carefree energy creeping back into my body.
Or maybe it was just the ease of being around Colton’s infectious happiness.
By the third round, Colton had caught on and was perfecting the dance.
He was jumping, clapping, and kicking at all the right moments.
I was doing my best to pretend that no one was watching us dance, and let loose.
My hair was flying around my head, my dress whipping my thighs at each spin.
I shot a look over my shoulder at Colton and even winked!
Me!
We spun around, and this time, I was facing Colton’s back. His hair was barely hanging out from under his hat, but the loose curls were swinging around as much as he was. He was still twisting his hips as he stepped to the beat.
We gravitated to the right, and as we twisted back around, he let out a big, “YEE-HAW,” which was met with a gracious “YEE-HAW” from the rest of the crowd. His confidence reminded me he wasn’t just a cowboy; he was a pro athlete who knew exactly how to command a room.
I laughed out loud and whipped my hair up dramatically. Colton raised his eyebrows, and I did my best not to blush.
And it was over, just like that.
The audience gave a thunderous applause. I turned my gaze to Colton, who took off his hat and bowed dramatically, the same excited smile on his face he wore after a ride.
He was born to be in front of a crowd. Once he had soaked in the applause, he turned to me and laughed. “That was so much fun.”
I nodded. I forgot how much I had loved dancing.
“Wow, you’re, like, really good.”
Colton and I whipped around to see an incredibly gorgeous girl fighting for his attention. Long hair that hung down her back, enough makeup to be in a beauty pageant, and a long V-neck shirt that didn’t leave very much to the imagination.
“Thank you, ma’am,” Colton said kindly.
“I hope you save a swing dance for me,” she said, crossing her arms under her chest to make her boobs look even bigger.
Colton’s arm swung around me and pulled me close to his warm body. “Actually, I’ve got a dance partner, but thank you.”
She glared down at me and turned on her heel to leave.
“Are you hungry?” He asked, having to lean down over the chatter in the crowd.
“Yes,” I said, relief flooding my body. There was no way Colton would’ve just ditched me in the middle of our date, but I hadn’t realized how grateful I was he hadn’t until she left. “Let’s eat.”
There was no question that Colton was insanely handsome. He turned heads everywhere he went, so to have him pick me, even after I had almost ruined everything, made me feel incredibly special.
He kept his arm slung around my shoulders, and I reached up to lace my fingers in his. I felt comfortable under his strong presence. He led me as far away from the dance floor as he could and only released me to pull out the chair for me.
“Can I buy you a steak?” Colton asked as he scanned through the menu, his face covered by his looming cowboy hat. “The reviews online all talk about how insane they are.”
I hadn’t had a good steak in a long time, and suddenly my mouth was watering like I hadn’t eaten in days. “I would love a steak as long as you’ll let me pay.”
He looked up sharply. “What kind of man would let his date pay for her own steak?”
“Colton, I’m, like, wealthy,” I said with an uncomfortable laugh. “Please let me pay for a rodeo man’s steak.”
He scoffed. “I could be as poor as dirt and wouldn’t let you pay for your dinner, Miss Ford.”
“Don’t say I didn’t try.”
“No argument there,” he laughed.
The waitress, with her Texas high hair and red lipstick, greeted us with a loud smile. “Well, hey there! What can I get started for ya?”
Colton cleared his throat and handed her the menus. “Two of your finest top sirloins, please.”
“And how would you like that cooked?”
“Medium,” we said together.
“You got it!” Her boots clicked on the wood as she walked away.
Colton leaned forward on his arms, giving me a big grin. “I feel like this is the first time we’ve actually been alone since I met you.” He looked around the packed restaurant. “Well, relatively speakin’.”
I tucked my hair behind my ears. “It’s been a whirlwind these past few weeks.”
“How’d you get such an invasive work assignment?”
He was nice to ask me about my work, even though I’m not sure it was super interesting to him. If it wasn’t, he was sure good at pretending it was. “Well, it’s actually a kind of test,” I admitted.
“Oh?”
I took a long drink from my glass of water. “Yeah, my boss is using this project as a way to see if I’m qualified for a marketing director job.”
Colton’s eyebrows shot up. “You’re kiddin’!”
I hated boasting about myself, especially to someone as perfect as Colton. “It’s definitely been a test, but I feel like it’s going well, considering I got to meet you!”
He didn’t let the subject drift anywhere, despite my efforts. “Ally, I knew you were good at your job, but you’re way too humble! Gosh, doll, how old are you?”
I scrunched my nose. “I thought you weren’t supposed to ask a woman her age.”
He reddened.
“I’m twenty-four, almost twenty-five,” I jumped in before he could feel awkward.
“And you’re already up for a director job?” He slapped the table and laughed. “Will you please start braggin’ about yourself? Gosh dang, Ally!”
I looked away to hide my blush. “It’s really not like that. My firm isn’t-”
Colton shook his head. “What did I tell you about acceptin’ compliments?”
“That the people who are complimenting you are the ones who want to see you succeed,” I responded. His advice hadn’t left my mind since he said it. “So, thank you. I’m really excited about this position.”
“You should be!”
I was ready to change the subject, still practicing his advice. “You’re one to talk, how old are you, and you’re on your way to the NFR!”
“I’m almost twenty-six,” he said reluctantly. Out of habit, he pulled his phone out and refreshed the screen. “Rodeoing is a young man’s game, so I’m actually pretty average comparatively, almost on the older end.”
“That’s bonkers,” I laughed. “I’ve never heard anyone talk about being in your mid-twenties as old.”
He refreshed the screen one more time before clicking his phone off and putting it back in his pocket. “I mean, my grandpa was in the rodeo until he was in his sixties, local fairs and all that, but if you want to win it all, you’d better do it while you’re young.”
“Are you getting nervous?”
Colton took a deep breath, making the buttons on his shirt stretch. “I mean, this is almost the furthest I’ve ever gotten, so a part of me is always waitin’ to wake up from a dream. Doesn’t feel real.”
I reached across the table and grabbed his big calloused hand. “It’s real, soak it in.”
He squeezed my hand. “You talk like you know this life.”
Shoot. Reel it back in. I laughed and shrugged awkwardly.
Luckily, the waitress made it just in time to save my butt. We released our hands to make room. She set our food in front of us, passing forward ketchup for our fries and steak sauce. “Y’all just holler if you need anythin’, but I’ll come check on you in a bit,” she said as she walked away.
I eagerly cut into my steak, my mouth watering. I dunked it in the sauce and shoved a bite into my mouth, closing my eyes to savor the flavor. “Oh my gosh,” I mumbled.
“Good?”
I opened my eyes to see Colton grinning at me, his eyes soft. “This is the best steak I’ve ever had.” He didn’t respond, just continued to look at me. I wiped my mouth with my napkin. “Do I have sauce all over my face?”
Colton shook his head. “No, you’re just so beautiful.”
I put my hand over my mouth, embarrassed to still be chewing at such a sweet moment. I finally swallowed. “You’re just a sweetheart.”
“I seriously can’t stop lookin’ at you.”
My cheeks were in pain from how hard I was smiling. I couldn’t believe he had just said that.
I couldn’t deny it.
I was falling for a rodeo cowboy.
I was screwed.