Cowgirl Up and Ride (Rough Riders #3)(99)

“That they will.” When she turned back around she saw Cord, standing in the same place, staring at her coolly. Like he didn’t know every inch of her body. Like it hadn’t bothered him a bit to see her on stage with a male stripper.


Like he didn’t care about her at all.


Say something. Come up here and chew me out. Drag me out. Don’t stand there and pretend you don’t know me.


Of course, Cord didn’t do anything.


Disappointed, AJ spun around to regain control of her emotions. Stupid rum punch and bridal games always made her weepy. She stacked the chairs on the stage and carried them to the wall.


When she looked back Cord was gone.


Chapter Twenty-five


But he hadn’t gone far.


Cord fumed in the shadows of the parking lot as he leaned against his truck outside the bar.


AJ had had her lips on another man.


His woman had her mouth near some half-naked punk’s groin.


In public.


And she’d been enjoying it.


Had she been drunk?


Didn’t matter.


Women stumbled out of the bar for the next half hour under the watchful eye of the Crook County deputy. Husbands, boyfriends, in a couple of cases fathers, picked up the bachelorette party attendees. A couple of women walked arm in arm down the sidewalk singing, “Save A Horse (Ride A Cowboy)” but they’d changed the words to, “Save A Horse, Ride An Inflatable Penis” which wasn’t particularly funny, yet it sent them into gales of laughter.


Finally AJ came out. Alone. She nodded to Deputy Shortbull and headed for her Jeep.


Cord sauntered out of the shadows.


She jumped back. Then tried to start his goatee on fire with her glare. “Did you give your mom and aunt a ride home?”


“Nope.”


“Then why are you here?”


“You know.”


“No, actually I don’t, Mr. McKay.”


He scowled. “What’s with the Mr. McKay shit?”


AJ shot a look over her shoulder. “Are you sure you should be talking to me? Since we’re not supposed to know each and all? Someone might see. Spread rumors that you’re secretly diddling me and God knows we couldn’t have that.”


“Jesus. Are you drunk?”


“What does it matter if I am? Are you taking a poll?”


This was not going well.


“Wrong answer.”


“Do I get another prize for giving you the right response?”


“Knock it off, AJ.” He glanced at the box in her hand. “What’s that?”


“The prize I won.”


“What is it?”


She opened her mouth to snap off something smart, but changed her mind and smiled cagily. “A vibrator.”


“No f*ckin’ way. What the hell do you need one of those—”


“—for? Comparison? That might be interesting.”


He stared at her steadily, wondering if the steam blowing out of his nostrils was the same color as the steam blowing out of his ears.


“Fun as this conversation has been, Mr. McKay, I need to be getting home. Might need to stop and pick up some double A batteries first.”


“Like hell. You ain’t goin’ no place until you tell me why you haven’t been around for the last three days.”