To All the Cowboys I’ve Loved Before: The Hottest Western Romance of 2019!. D. Graham R.
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Название: To All the Cowboys I’ve Loved Before: The Hottest Western Romance of 2019!
Автор: D. Graham R.
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Вестерны
isbn: 9780008328382
isbn:
“Don’t worry about it, darlin’. I get stepped on by hooves all the time. I can’t even feel your puny little feet.”
I open my eyes in an attempt to focus on his face while still moving. It maxes out my capacity for physical multitasking, but it feels rude to not look at him. “Thanks for being patient. How did you become such a great teacher?”
“I have two little sisters back in Houston. I helped my mom raise them.”
“Oh. That’s sweet. How old are they?”
“Ten and thirteen.”
“Aw. They must miss you.”
“Yeah.” He nods and swallows hard. “It’s been tough on them, but my mom wants me to finish my education. I only have one more year left, if I can keep my grades up. Then I’ll be able to get a job and support them financially, so they can pursue their goals.”
“That’s very sweet. I guess that’s why Easton told me you’re sensitive deep down.”
“He said that, did he?”
Oops. I shouldn’t have spilled that. “He also said you’re cowboy to the core. Tough. Manly. With a nicer truck than his.”
He laughs and steers me clear of the long horn on the wall. “You’ve turned that boy into a gabby gossiper. How’d you manage that?”
“I talk too much. I don’t know when to shut up. Evidently it’s contagious.”
BJ laughs again and spins me in a half-circle that requires my eyes to be closed to successfully execute.
When the song ends, he extends his arm across my shoulder and hugs me into his side. “You did it. Good job.”
I open my eyes and smile as we walk off the dance floor unscathed. He invites me to step in front of him and steers me by my shoulders through the crowd. “Thank you for being my instructor. How’s your knee?”
“I might need surgery, but it’s all right. At least you can dance now.”
“You have a very loose definition of dancing. I wouldn’t go quite that far.”
We both laugh as we return to the table. The two flirty girls are gone and Chuck is back, which might be directly correlated if he said something rude to them. “Rum and coke.” He hands BJ a glass. “Virgin strawberry margarita for the new roomie.” He hands me a towering pink slushie. “Nothing for me since I’m driving. And boring Corona for the big winner tonight.” He points at Easton. “The rest of the rounds are on you, by the way.”
I take a sip through the straw and the liquid burns my throat. “Whoa.” I cough. “Holy cow. That’s not a virgin margarita.”
“Oh, really?” Chuck acts all innocent and feigns disbelief. “The bartender must have made a mistake. Sorry about that.”
“Don’t drink it if you don’t want it,” Easton says. “I’ll get you another one.”
I glance at him and then back at the mountain of crushed ice. My parents don’t drink, which is why I never have. I could, though, I guess. I take another sip. Nope. Don’t like it. “Sorry. It’s not really my thing. But I don’t want it to go to waste.”
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