Cowgirls Don't Cry(8)

“How have you been?”


Lonely. “Busy. How about you?”


“The same.”


The song shifted tempo and he slowed them to a gentle sway.

“It was a beautiful wedding. I’ve never seen Keely so happy,” Jessie murmured.

“Me either.”


They stayed quiet in the moment, just dancing. The song ended and another one began. “I should go,”


she said, trying to slip from his embrace.

But Brandt’s grip tightened. “Stay. We need to talk.”


The last thing she wanted was to talk about the fiasco at the lake. “If in my drunken idiocy I forgot to say thank you for…what you did for me that night—”


“You said thank you,” he replied tersely, “repeatedly, and that’s not why I wanna talk to you.”


“Well, thank heaven for that. Because God knows I haven’t relived the most embarrassing night of my life in my nightmares enough times in the last four months.”


“You’re not the one who oughta be embarrassed.”


“Can we please stop talking about this?”


“No.”


She took a step back.

He jerked her forward again.

“Knock it off, Brandt.”


“No. We are gonna talk about this now that you brought it up. Did Mike call you the next day?”


She knew he wouldn’t let it go. “Yes. He didn’t remember anything, okay? Not a single thing.”


“That little f*cking prick. Do you remember anything?”


Heat rose in her cheeks. “Some.”


“What did he say when he called?”


“He asked me out again.”


“Did you go?” Brandt demanded.

She glared at him. “What the hell do you think?”


He stared back, pulling that silent accusing crap he did so well. Once again she tried to get away from him, once again he didn’t let her.

“Let me go.”


Before Brandt answered, Dalton appeared. “Hey, guys. Mind if I cut in?”


“Get the f*ck away, Dalton,” Brandt snarled.

“Look, people are watching. Dad especially. I ain’t gonna let either of you f*ck up Keely’s wedding reception by givin’ Dad the chance to cause a scene. Which we all know he’d love to do. So back the f*ck off, Brandt, and let me dance with Jessie.”


“Fine.” Brandt leaned in and kissed Jessie’s cheek. Then he whispered, “This ain’t over. Mark my words, Jessie. We will talk, even if I have to hogtie you to make it happen.” He gave them both a feral smile and ambled off the dance floor toward the bar.

Without missing a beat, Dalton brought her into his arms. “I ain’t gonna ask what the hell that was about.”


“Smart choice, Dalton.”


“I may be slow, but I ain’t dumb.”


She relaxed and let him lead. Her relationship with Dalton was more sibling-like than her relationship with Brandt. Dalton still called her every couple of weeks just to shoot the breeze. Last month he’d come over and helped her fix fence, regaling her with tales of his dating life, which always made her laugh.

“So, sister, you’re lookin’ good.”


“You’re looking dapper yourself, young McKay. Did you bring a date to the wedding?”