“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.