She wore a dress that scooped down just enough over her breasts, narrowed in nicely at her waist, then flared out again to float just above very pretty knees.
He’d always favored pretty knees on a woman, though he couldn’t say just why.
It had taken him a while to register the color over what was inside the dress, but he liked the happy blue with those little swirls of pink and green over it. And the way she’d paired it with boots that picked up the tone of the green swirls.
She’d left her hair down, long and straight over her shoulders.
He didn’t mind they’d gotten there first, could clink beers together before the others piled in. Not when he could take the time for some lazy flirting.
“I don’t think I’ve seen you in a dress since you were about fourteen. A wedding, it seems to me. One of your cousins.”
“It must’ve been Corey’s if you have my age right—and you probably do. After that Mom couldn’t veto my wardrobe choices.”
“You fill this one out better than you did that one.”
“Puberty took its time with me, but it got there. You filled out well yourself.”
He wore jeans and a chambray shirt that edged his eyes toward blue. He didn’t smell of horses tonight, but of the forest, which was almost as good.
“I want to say before Rory and the rest of them get here, I appreciate you not being annoyed—at least not that it shows—that they will be here. It just sort of happened.”
“I’m not annoyed. I like everybody who’s coming. I don’t know Chelsea very well, but she seems fine.”
“Rory’s got his eye on her, and she’s got hers right back on him.”
“I don’t know her well, but I’ve had a look at her. It doesn’t surprise me Rory’d have an eye.”
“As I believe Jessica and Chase are circling around having an eye on each other, this could be considered a kind of triple date.”
“Given it’s Chase, the circling could go on, oh, another five or ten years.”
“I think Jessie’ll cut that down some, if she stays interested.”
“I’ll wish her luck,” Callen decided. “You and me, Bo, we’re done circling.”
“Well, hey there, Bo! Haven’t seen you in weeks.” A waitress settled by the table, gave Bodine’s shoulder a quick squeeze. “Y’all having dinner? You got more coming, right? How about I leave some menus so…” She angled toward Callen, got a good look. Her eyes popped. “Callen Skinner! I heard you were back, but I haven’t seen a trace of you.”
She leaned right down, kissed him full on the mouth. “Welcome home!”
“Thanks. It’s good to be back.” His brain did a desperate search through old files for a name to go with the face.
“One of these days I want to hear all about you working in the movies. That must’ve been so exciting. Why, who’d’ve thought, when we were riding around in your old truck, you’d be off rubbing shoulders with movie stars? You ever meet Brad Pitt?”
“I can’t say I did.”
“I bet you don’t know Darlie’s married, do you, Callen? She’s not Darlie Jenner now, but Darlie Utz,” Bo chimed in.
“Just like the potato chip,” Darlie said with a laugh. “Though if we had a share of that I wouldn’t be working at the Roundup. All right, Lester, God’s sake’s! I see you. I’m having a minute with an old friend, so just hold your water.”
She turned back from berating an impatient regular, beamed at Callen.
“Married three years now, and we’ve got a little girl.”
“Congratulations, Darlie. How’s your brother? Is Andy still in the Army?”
“He is. He made sergeant. We’re really proud of him.”
“You tell him thanks for his service when you talk to him next.”
“You bet I will. I gotta get Lester off my back. You take your time with the menus. You want another round when I come back?”
“We’ll wait for the others, thanks, Darlie.”
“And thanks for the save,” Callen said when the waitress stalked over to Lester. “I couldn’t place her. I took her out a couple times, but I couldn’t place her.”
“She’s gone from coloring her hair blond to coloring it red, and she’s curling it till it springs around like a rabbit. I don’t mean that in a hard way, just to say she doesn’t look like she did when she was sixteen or seventeen. Her husband’s a Zulie.”
Callen thought of the smoke jumpers who trained just down the road, and fought wildfires all through the season. “I should’ve thanked him for his service, too.” He tapped the menu. “Are you hungry?”
She rested her chin on the palm of her hand, smiled dead into his eyes. “I’ve been working up an appetite.”
“You’re killing me, Bodine.”
“Skinner, I haven’t gotten started. Oh!” She straightened, waved before Callen could pull her in, get started himself. “It’s Rory. Looks like he’s got Jessica and Chelsea. Don’t tell me Chase backed out.”
Callen stood up as Rory guided the women to the table.
“You guys good there?” Rory gestured to the beers as he pulled off his coat. “I’ve got drink orders, taking it to the bar.”
“We’re good, right?”
Callen nodded at Bodine. “All good.”
“Give me a minute,” Rory added.
“I’ll go with you.” Tossing her coat aside, Chelsea went with Rory.
“I didn’t realize this place was so big.” Jessica looked around as Callen helped her with her coat. “That’s about the longest bar I’ve ever seen.”
“Plenty of beer,” Bodine told her. “Lots of local brews. The wine?” She wagged her hand in the air to signal it was only so-so.
“Good thing I went with a huckleberry margarita. I’ve developed a taste for them. You know, we could think about working out some sort of package with this place.”
“Not tonight.” Bodine tapped her arm. “No work in the Roundup.”
“Right.”
“How about Chase?”
“Oh, Rory—who insisted on picking me up—said … Oh yeah. Chase said he had a couple things to finish up, and to order him a Green Flash and the Saturday Special Burger if we got started before he made it. What are those?”
“That’s a local beer, and a buffalo burger with bacon, pepper jack cheese, and jalape?o sauce,” Bodine told her. “Chase has a fondness. How are you going to dance in those shoes?”
Jessica glanced down at her hot red stilettos. “Very gracefully.”
“I like ’em.” Callen gave them a leer and a wink. “How’d the wedding go?”
“Without a hitch. The bride wore a lace off-the-shoulder gown with a fringed hem, white boots, and a white Stetson with a crystal hatband. The decorations were, well, obsessively Western—silver horseshoes, wildflowers in cowboy boots and hat vases. More boots in table favor shot glasses, bandannas for napkins, burlap table runners. The cake had fondant to replicate cowhide, and the topper—the happy couple on horseback. It actually worked.”
“I wouldn’t mind having a boot shot glass,” Callen said.
“Well, I’ll see if any got left behind.” She glanced at the menu as she spoke. “What are Screaming Nachos?”