Maggie Moves On(67)
“The two of us out on the town, dressed to the nines—”
“Closer to the fives,” Dean insisted. “The nines do not involve denim.”
“Either way, this deserves documentation.” She handed him her phone. “You’ve got longer arms.”
He held her phone out at arm’s length. “Say one million subscribers!”
They both did, and he snapped the picture.
“You better use that beauty filter all over my face,” he threatened, looking at the final product.
She snatched her phone back. “Your crow’s-feet are distinguished.”
“Crow’s-feet?” he screeched. “I was talking about the gray hairs highlighted by that stupid streetlight. When did we get so elderly? Have I given you the best years of my life?”
“Saturday night out on the town. About to find out what puts the ‘cowboy’ in Cowboy Jake’s,” she said, ignoring him as she typed it out on her phone. “There. Posted. And you’re thirty-five. That’s not even midlife crisis territory yet. You have to hold off until at least forty.”
“Come on, Grandma. Let’s go see if this place has any early-bird specials,” he said, opening the door of the bar and ushering her inside.
The bar had prime positioning on a low bluff overlooking Payette Lake. Cowboy Jake’s was everything a western bar should be. Wood on the walls, sawdust on the concrete floors, barrels and lariats for decoration. There was a stage at one end of the room, a bar with backlit shelves of just about every kind of bourbon imaginable on the other. Between the two were tables crowded with people blowing off steam on a Saturday night and a dance floor in front of the stage.
Music was coming from the sound system, but it looked like a band was setting up on the stage.
“There they are,” Maggie said, pointing at Nirina and Kayla, who were waving from a table halfway between the bar and dance floor. She led the way, dragging Dean along behind her.
Introductions were made, and Maggie took an empty chair while Dean headed to the bar to buy a round of drinks.
“How was the store today?” she asked over the croonings of Luke Bryan.
“Good! New shipment of pottery came in today,” Kayla said, putting down her white wine. “All blues and greens in a crackle glaze. The dishes would look amazing with your new margarita glasses. Hint, hint.”
“I found these sheers in the back. They’re hand-sewn lace that screamed ‘Hang me in Maggie’s bedroom over the balcony doors,’” Nirina added.
“It’s true. They did,” Kayla said with a nod. “I was there.”
“I don’t think you have to work too hard to get me back in the store,” Maggie assured them.
“We’ll start a pile for you,” Niri promised. “So, Dean is gorgeous.”
“Please tell him that. He’s having a moment over gray hair and crow’s-feet,” she told them.
“We’re organizing a watch party for your first Kinship episode at Decked Out,” Kayla announced. “The whole town is so excited.”
“Hey, boss!” Elton, Sy’s right-hand man, ducked down and gave Maggie a smacking kiss on the cheek. “Nice to see you outside of work for once.”
“My brother is gonna kick your skinny ass for hitting on his girl,” Nirina sang.
Elton grinned at her. “Worth it! Save me a dance, Nichols.”
He disappeared into the crowd, and Dean reappeared expertly juggling four drinks. “White wine for Kayla. Club soda with lime for Mama to Be. And beers for the Dream Team,” he said, setting a beer in front of Maggie.
“Kayla and Niri were just telling me they’re organizing a watch party Monday night for the first episode,” Maggie filled him in.
“Did you prepare Silas for his impending fame?” Dean asked. “Viewers are going to eat him up.”
“I think Silas is used to being appreciated for his looks and charm,” she said wryly. “He’ll handle it just fine.”
“I appreciate your faith in me, Mags.” Sy’s voice was unexpected and so close that it had her jumping in her chair. She looked up, and there he was. All six-feet-plus of that boyish charm and hard body. His hair was wet on the ends, and she could smell some magical, manly shower gel that did strange things to her.
“I didn’t know you’d be here,” she said, unable to control the smile she felt spreading across her face.
He took the chair next to her and held his fingers to his ear. “What’s that?”
The man had heard her just fine. But she didn’t mind moving in a little closer to repeat the words.
He brushed her hair back so he could lean in and whisper back, “Didn’t think I’d miss a chance to show off my dance moves for you, did you?”
His lips brushed against her earlobe, and it sent a delicious shiver up her spine.
“You’re crashing Ladies’ Night,” she told him.
“So’s Dean. And Niri’s husband will be here in twenty minutes. You look real pretty tonight, Maggie.”
Was there a woman out there who could face Silas Wright’s charm and walk away unscathed?
“Thank you,” she said. “You look…” She let her gaze trail over him, from the tousled angelic curls to that light layer of stubble covering his jaw. Then lower to the T-shirt that hugged all of that ropey muscle. She didn’t dare go any lower. Delicious. Sinful. Indecently sexy. “Good,” she decided finally.