“Well, since we’re all here, why don’t we sit together?” she asked.
Crap.
“Emily,” Jake said, lowering his voice. “We should leave them alone. I think they’re on a date.”
“Date?” she repeated, wrinkling her nose. “Since when did Cowboy actually start dating? I thought he only had one-night stands.” Then she laughed. A lot. Sometime during her fit of laughter, she must’ve realized that no one else had joined in and that there was some awkward tension buzzing from the rest of us, because she stopped giggling. “Oh God, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it to come out sounding…well, you know.”
I gave her a nonchalant shrug and a soft smile. “It’s okay. Why don’t we just go in and enjoy ourselves?”
“Sounds good,” Jake said, moving past us through the entrance.
Cowboy took that as his cue and entered as well, while I followed behind him. As I passed by Emily, she mouthed an apology to me and I gave her a nearly imperceptible nod to let her know I wasn’t angry. Then we followed the men inside.
I’d never been to Junior’s Diner before, but I loved the atmosphere. The restaurant had a western decor with Old West paraphernalia tacked on every wall. Antique saddles, old spurs, and rusted horseshoes surrounded us.
Jake picked a table in the center of the room. “This okay?”
Cowboy nodded his approval and we sat on one side as Emily and Jake took the other. I’d barely planted my butt in the chair when a pretty young woman approached us while digging in the purse she had strapped over her shoulder.
She stood on Cowboy’s opposite side and giggled shyly. “Would you mind giving me your autograph?” she asked, whipping out a pen and a pocket-sized version of the Liberty County Bachelor calendar.
“Uh, sure,” Cowboy replied uncomfortably. He shifted in his chair as he flipped to the month of May and scrawled his name across his racy photograph before handing it back to her. “There ya go.”
“Would you sign mine, too?” Another woman popped up beside him, holding out a pocket calendar, looking hopeful and eager.
Cowboy smiled politely and gave her a nod as he took her calendar and administered the same treatment to it as the one before. But as he handed the woman back her calendar, another took her place. She held out a Sharpie and smiled flirtatiously at him. “Would you mind?”
“No problem,” Cowboy answered, waiting for her to hand him her calendar.
But instead, she bent down, practically shoving her cleavage in his face. “Just sign anywhere you like,” she purred with a blatant sexual overtone.
My eyes widened. Though it was rude for her to hit on my date, especially right in front of me, I didn’t say anything. I had no claim on Cowboy and wouldn’t pretend like I did. But Cowboy glanced over at me with uncertainty in his eyes, as if he wasn’t sure how to handle the situation any more than I was. So I did the only thing I could do to put him at ease. I pretended to be oblivious to the woman’s request by starting up a neutral conversation with his friends.
“Emily, did you have a good time last night?”
“Yep. Especially when you slapped the crap out of Cowboy. I’m guessing that wasn’t a love tap you gave him on the dance floor.”
I cringed. Well, that didn’t work out in my favor. “Oh. You saw that?”
The woman standing there giggled, though Cowboy clenched his jaw. He quickly signed his name on her forearm and handed the marker back. “Sorry, I’m on a date. Best I can do.” The woman sighed, disappointment tugging at her features, but retreated without another word. As she walked away, Cowboy mouthed a silent “sorry” to me and draped his arm on the back of my chair.
“Are you kidding? Everyone saw it. No doubt Jeremy did, too. That’s probably the reason he targeted you. Jeremy’s an ass like that. But then again, I guess he isn’t the only one,” she said, directing her attention to Cowboy with a suspicious gleam in her eye. “You must’ve done something pretty bad to cause our sweet little Anna to have that reaction.”
God, I wish everyone would stop calling me that. It makes me sound like a four-year-old.
Cowboy’s gaze cut to me, but I just lifted a brow and shrugged. Technically, they were his friends first, and if he wanted them to know, then he should be the one to tell them.
He combed his fingers through his hair, as if he were contemplating what to say. “I sort of…called her a liar.”
Emily’s eyes widened, but Jake chuckled and said, “That was your bright idea? To go over there and insult her? Jesus, Cowboy. Talk about open mouth, insert boot.”
“Shut up,” Cowboy sneered, firing daggers at Jake with his eyes.
Emily cringed, then leaned over to her husband. “Um, Jake, why don’t we go look for the waitress?”
But he was oblivious to the reason for her request. “You do know in here the waitresses come to the table. We don’t have to go look—” The contemptuous glare Emily gave him finally sank in. “Oh. Okay, sure.”
The moment they walked away, Cowboy grasped my hand in his. “I’m sorry. I guess I’m not very good at the whole dating thing. Tonight’s not going at all the way I planned.”
“That’s okay,” I said, giving him a genuine smile. “To be honest, I haven’t been on many dates before so I didn’t have any pre-conceived notions.” Not about the dinner portion of our date, anyway.
Cowboy’s brows furrowed. “My original idea was to take you by horseback down to Rickety Bridge, have a picnic, and then we could have cooled off in the old watering hole, but I wasn’t sure if you would think it was lame or not.”
“Actually, it sounds wonderful, but I…well, I don’t swim.”
“That’s okay. I could teach you,” he offered, looking hopeful.
“No, that’s not exactly…um, what I mean is, I know how to swim. I just…” I peered down at our hands as he linked his fingers with mine.
“You don’t want to get into a swimsuit?” he asked. When I nodded silently, he reached over and tilted my chin up until my eyes met his gaze. “Darlin’, the only person here who is bothered by your scars is you.”
His words warmed my heart, melting the tension. The sincerity in his voice and eyes left little doubt that he was telling the God’s honest truth. He didn’t care about my scars. And the sheer notion sent endorphins rushing through my system, filling me with relief.
Until he winked and added, “Besides, who needs swimsuits?”
I sighed inwardly as Jake and Emily returned to the table with a waitress who handed us menus. She was an older woman but she chewed and smacked her gum as loudly as any teenager. She took our drink orders, shoved her notepad into her apron, and pulled out a pocket calendar of her own.
Sheesh.
Before she could even speak, I rose from my seat. “Excuse me for a moment,” I said, heading in the direction of the restrooms. I didn’t really need to go to the bathroom, but I couldn’t sit through another moment of these women stroking Cowboy’s ego. No wonder the man was insatiable. He had women coming out of the woodwork to get to him.
In the small room, I checked my makeup and hair in the mirror and then washed my hands. I waited a few more minutes, then left, working my way back to our table. But halfway there, I bumped directly into a tall, broad Native American man wearing a black western shirt with white pearl snaps who smelled eerily of mint. I started to apologize, but the moment my gaze met his, the only thing that left my throat was a strangled gasp.
Oh my God! It was him.
Last night, I hadn’t realized he was a Native American, but standing before him now, face-to-face, I had no doubt this man was the very same man I’d seen on my back porch. His long, silky black hair was braided this time, but I recognized the minty scent of the chaw of tobacco he held in his bottom lip and the golden hawk eyes sliced into my soul.