Accidental Cowgirl (15 page)

Kyla frowned. “Y’know what? I’ll watch for a bit. You guys go ahead.” She pointed vaguely at her thigh.

Jess raised her eyebrows at Hayley. “I know how to get her to dance.”

“Ooh!” Hayley perked up. “The secret formula! I forgot! Be right back!” She jumped off her chair and started threading through the bodies toward the bar.

Kyla narrowed her eyes. “Secret formula? Jess?”

Jess shrugged innocently and sipped the last ice of her own margarita. “Drink up, sweetie. The dance floor’s waiting. Ooh! Check out the barstools, dead ahead.”

Kyla surreptitiously turned her head toward the bar, and immediately was snagged by Decker’s gaze. She tried to look away, but her eyes did that crazy-glue thing again and she couldn’t. He had a crisp, collared white shirt and dark blue jeans on, along with his Stetson, and oh, did he ever look delicious. It was dark in the bar, but she felt like she could almost see the blue of his irises across the room.

Trying to appear casual, she raised her fingers in a quick wave, then ripped her eyes away and turned back toward Jess. “Jess, I’ll kill you if you tell Hayley I said it, but good Lord that man could be in a catalog.” She felt like she’d swallowed a cup of grasshoppers.

“He
is
quite a specimen, isn’t he?” Jess sighed. “His brother’s not too bad, either.”

Hayley suddenly squeezed through the wall of bodies with three little paper cups, which she set on their teeny table. “Secret formula number nine, ladies!”

Kyla peered into the cups, then laughed out loud. “Jell-O shots? Are you serious?”

Hayley nodded as she sat back down. “Well, if anything’ll make you dance, it’s the magic combination of margaritas and Jell-O shots.”

“Oh, boy,” Jess muttered from Kyla’s left, pointing with the index finger still on her glass.

Kyla swiveled slowly around just in time to see Malibu Barbie slither up to Decker and thread her arm through his. Kyla’s shoulders fell as she bit her lower lip in frustration she wasn’t at all happy she was feeling. Dammit. Looked like the blonde did have a claim on Decker, and she wasn’t afraid to exercise it in public.

She ripped her eyes away and stared out at the dance floor, where the disco lights circled the crowd of gyrating bodies. The deejay switched seamlessly from one thumping song to the next, making the floor under Kyla’s feet vibrate. She turned to Jess and Hayley. “Who’s singing this?”

“Selena something.” Hayley bopped back and forth on her chair. “She was on that kids’ show with the big dinosaur.”

“And now she’s old enough to be singing songs like
this
?”

Hayley nodded. “I don’t even know if she’s twenty yet, but she’s selling it, that’s for sure.”

Kyla closed her eyes for a moment, letting the beat vibrate through her body. Oh, to be twenty again. To have no idea what was in store, to have all that angst without the experience to back it up. To make millions of teens rock their bodies to
your
beat. What a trip that had to be.

The thumping cranked up in speed, lyrics urging
lose yourself tonight
, and Kyla suddenly wanted to do just that. She’d been living under a rock for a year now, hurt and sad and broken, but dammit, she needed to start living again.

So she wasn’t twenty. So she had real freakin’ angst to drive her tears when they sprang up. She was young, she was vibrant, and she wanted to be out on that dance floor
feeling
like she was twenty again, with a whole world of options before her.

To hell with Decker. To hell with his silicone Barbie. She didn’t need him. She didn’t need any man. She had her best friends, a cranking beat, and no reason
not
to lose herself tonight.

“Y’know what, ladies? I think I do feel a dance coming on after all.” Kyla picked up one of the three paper cups and motioned for Jess and Hayley to take the other two.

“Atta girl,” Hayley smiled. “Bottoms up!” All three of them squeezed the paper cups and let the Jell-O slide down their throats.

“Oh, yum. I forgot how good those were.” Kyla bounced her eyebrows. “Shall we dance?”

Jess slid gracefully off her barstool and took Kyla’s arm. “Absolutely, darlin’. Let’s go make Decker forget he ever met Sorority Susie over there.”

As they reached the edge of the dance floor, Kyla couldn’t help but glance Decker’s way as she stepped onto the polished wood, but he had eyes on the blonde. She took a deep breath and pasted a fake smile on her face. She’d have fun tonight, dammit. She was old enough and burned enough not to let her heart out to play, anyway. It was probably good that he had a girlfriend. Now she wouldn’t have to waste stupid time mooning over him like a star-crossed sixteen-year-old.

Just one more look, she promised herself, and then she’d stop this insanity. She glanced over one more time, but this time, his eyes weren’t on Marcy at all. They were on her, and she could feel their heat right down to her toes.

* * *

“Everybody behaving?” Cole slid onto the barstool next to Decker’s.

Decker took a swig of his beer. “Not sure yet. Haven’t been here long.”

Cole took a long look around the club. “Well, I see Theresa and Cheryl aren’t leaving much to the imagination. Cheryl’s had a miraculous recovery, hasn’t she?” The two women were stuffed into clothes that were way too tight, accented by what looked like pounds of silver jewelry. Their fake cowboy hats were the frosting on the cake. Ridiculous.

Cheryl had been trying to catch Decker’s eye for half an hour now, but he was keeping his carefully averted lest she misinterpret any gaze he sent her way. He’d seen her head toward him a few minutes ago, but he’d detoured to the men’s room. Hopefully she’d get the hint without him having to be blunt, but so far, it wasn’t looking likely.

“Guess I don’t owe you a drink. Nobody heals from a real sprain that fast.”

“Jimmy and Pete don’t seem to mind.” Cole lifted his chin toward the ranch hands sitting at the other end of the bar. Jimmy and Pete clinked glasses, downed their shots, and slid off their stools in tandem, heading for Cheryl and Theresa.

“I’d practically pay them at this point, just to keep those two women busy. It’d be nice not to worry about having to get them back to the ranch tonight.”

“Well, it looks like they’ve got a free ride.” Cole nodded his thanks to the bartender as he put his beer on a square napkin. “Ma said Tom and Maureen opted to stay back in their cabin tonight. Guess that means we’re only in charge of the city gals.”

Decker fought the jump in his stomach as he kept his voice level. “Guess so.”

“Where are they, anyway?”

“They scored a table back there.” Decker tipped his beer toward the back wall.

Cole squinted in the darkness. “They’re very … sparkly tonight.”

Decker turned away. “Haven’t noticed.”

“Is that so?”

“Yup.”

“Riiight.” Cole chuckled.

Decker lifted his bottle and took a long draw. “We’re just babysitting tonight, Cole. Just babysitting.”

Cole looked behind Decker’s shoulder and grimaced. “Don’t look now, but someone’s still on the prowl.”

The scent of Marcy’s perfume assaulted Decker before he ever saw her. She slithered in on a cloud of something insanely expensive that he’d always hated, even when he hadn’t loathed the woman who wore it.

Before he could steel himself, Marcy was threading her arm through his and pressing her well-endowed chest to his biceps. “Decker! I didn’t know you’d be here tonight!”

He pulled his arm free as subtly as possible, but she still stood close. “I’ve been here every Friday night all summer, Marcy.”
As I’m quite sure your little girl-posse told you
.

“Oh, that’s right! It’s so sweet of you to keep an eye on your guests like this. Which ones are they?”

Decker looked sidelong at her. “What do you want, Marcy?”

She put her hand to her chest. “I’m not sure what you mean, Decker. I’m just trying to be friendly. I saw you over here and thought I should come say hello.”

“Well, you’ve said it. Thank you. Have a great night.” He lifted his beer bottle to his lips, frowning at how her eyes followed it the entire way.

She put her hand on his forearm again and looked up into his eyes. “Decker, do you think we could talk for a couple of minutes? Maybe outside?”

He put down his beer on the bar and sighed. “Marcy, I have absolutely nothing left to say to you. We’ve done all the talking we need to, and more.”

“But Decker. Just a couple of minutes. Come outside. I have something I really need to talk to you about.”

Over Marcy’s shoulder, Decker could see Cole trying hard not to grin as he lifted his own bottle and swiveled to watch the dance floor. “Sorry, Marcy. I’m on duty. Can’t leave the guests, or the boss’ll dock my pay.”

She cuffed his arm playfully. “Please, Decker?” She used a look she’d probably spent hours perfecting in the mirror. It was sort of a pathetic puppy-dog thing that he’d previously found borderline cute. Now he just found it insanely annoying and childish.

He looked down at her and turned to Cole. From past experience, he knew Marcy was like a dog with a bone. If she felt like something needed to get said tonight, she’d damn well make sure it got said, whether he liked it or not. And if he didn’t go outside with her, she’d say it right in front of the whole bar. He might as well get it over with so he could enjoy the rest of the night. This was the last time, though. He needed to make damn sure she was getting the hint that
no way, no how were they ever getting back together.

“Cole, you’re in charge for five minutes. I’ll be right back.” He slid off the barstool and motioned Marcy toward the door. “Five minutes.”

He wished he hadn’t seen the secret smile playing at the corner of her lips as they headed for the doorway, but he couldn’t miss it. She thought she’d scored a point by dragging him free of the bar. What she didn’t know, but was about to find out, was how completely, totally, utterly over her he was.

* * *

Decker crossed his arms and leaned back against the outside wall of the club, just to the left of the doorway. He made a show of looking at his watch, then pointed to it. “Okay, Marcy. You asked for five minutes, you got it. Say whatever it is you have to say and be done with it.”

“Gosh, Decker, do you have to be so harsh?” Marcy put her hand on his arm again, and again did the ridiculous puppy-dog look thing. He marveled briefly that he’d ever found it, or her, alluring.

He shrugged off her hand and motioned for her to talk. “Say what you need to say, Marcy. I’m not going to keep playing this game with you.”

She sighed in frustration. “Fine. Decker, here’s the thing. We were really good together.
Really
good. Don’t you remember that? I don’t understand why you’re not willing to give us a second chance. I know I made some mistakes.” At his raised eyebrow, she let out a breath. “Some big ones. I know. I was young and stupid and made some bad decisions. I’ve said I’m sorry about all that, and I really meant it.”

“It was six months ago, Marcy. How much older and wiser could you possibly be by now?”

“Decker, I still love you.” She fiddled with her nail polish for a moment before lifting her eyes again. “Is there someone else, Deck? Is that why you’re not ready to take me back?”

Decker uncrossed his arms and walked away from her, then turned around and put his hands on his hips. “Marcy, I’m not sure why this is so hard for you to get through your head, but this isn’t about someone else. It’s about there never really being a me and you. We never belonged together in the first place, and time doesn’t change that. I’m sorry I’m not performing
to the script you have in your head, but really? Did you really just think you’d waltz back into town and find me waiting here for you?”

Marcy’s eyes filled with practiced tears, and he knew she was hoping he’d tenderly wipe them away. She took a step closer. “Decker, I made a lot of mistakes. I did. I know we had a whirlwind relationship, but I loved you. I really did. I still do.”

“Marcy, we both know that’s not completely true.” She started to argue, but he put his hand up to silence her. “Be honest with yourself, Marcy. When you ran off to New York City, why did you do it? Was it because you were head-over-heels for that guy? Or did you think maybe, just maybe, he’d be your ticket to the life you really want?”

“That’s a terrible thing to say.”

Decker sighed. “You know it’s the truth. We both do.”

Marcy took another step and reached up to touch his cheek, but he backed his head away and pushed her hand down gently. “Decker. You make me sound like a money-grubbing monster.”

She paused for a long moment. “Is this about Emily? Do you have some half-baked notion in your head that you’re not allowed to be happy … because of what happened to Emily?”

Decker stepped close to Marcy, red-hot anger flooding his insides. “What the
hell
did you say?”

Marcy backed up a small step. In a tiny voice, she said, “You heard me.”

“What in
hell
do you know about Emily?”

“I know she died. I know you got blamed, but Decker, it wasn’t your fault.”

“You. Know. Nothing.” Decker spun away from her before he could act on his anger.

“I know you were taking care of her that day. And I know your father blamed you for what happened.”

“Then I guess you know everything you need to.” Decker faced the brick wall, not wanting to even
look
at Marcy. How dare she?

“I just want to understand, Decker. I know it must have been so hard. But it’s in the past. Maybe it’s time to leave it there. I know it must be painful—”

He turned back toward her in a deathly-slow spiral. “You think you know everything? Well, I’ll tell you some things I bet you don’t know, Marcy. Do you know I saw her sneak into the barn? Knew she was pissed at me because I wouldn’t let her go riding? Had a feeling she’d do something to act out? Do you know all that?” Marcy shook her head miserably.

“Do you know,
Marcy
, that when she lit out on that half-crazed horse there was no way to catch her? No way in hell? And do you know that by the time he’d stopped dead at the edge of the pond and sent her headlong into it, probably only two minutes had passed? And by the time I got to her, she was already dead?