Playing With Fire (Tangled in Texas, #2)(59)

When a truck rumbled to a stop outside, I tousled my loose hair one last time, checked my makeup in the mirror, and hurried to the door. I even waited for him to announce his arrival before opening it, just to keep from looking too eager.

The moment he knocked, I swung open the door and stepped directly into The Twilight Zone. Someone looking an awful lot like Cowboy stood in my doorway with a bouquet of pink roses. Except this guy was wearing a blazer, had his hair combed to the side, and was missing a cowboy hat.

What the hell?

He grinned at me. “Hey, ready to go?”

“Um, okay.” It sounded more like a question looming in the air. “Let me just put these in some water first.”

Cowboy waited at the door for me, whistling a tune I didn’t recognize. He was certainly in a good mood. But then again, what guy isn’t if he thinks he’s about to get laid?

When I finished, I headed outside and he waited as I locked up. Once I turned back to him, he wordlessly offered me his arm and led me down the stairs and out to his vehicle. The red truck glinted in the fading sunlight, bright and shiny, as if he’d recently washed it.

Cowboy eyed my loose red strands before his gaze met mine and he grinned, as if he’d just noticed I wasn’t wearing my glasses. “By the way, you look beautiful tonight.”

“Thank you. So do you. I mean, you look very handsome.”

He held the door for me as I climbed inside and buckled up, then gave me a wink before closing it. I watched as he strutted around the front of the truck to the driver’s side, resembling a peacock proudly displaying his feathers. But, in this case, Cowboy was showing off his newfound gentlemanly behavior.

Silence sat between us for the first few miles. I spent most of that time sneaking peeks of his meticulously combed hairdo and uncomfortable-looking blazer and wondering what it all meant. The novelty of it all confused me. I yearned to run my fingers through his hair to mess it up and pull his blazer off in protest to see his broad shoulders I loved so much.

“I wasn’t sure where you wanted to go for dinner, so I thought we’d just go somewhere close by.”

“Oh.” I couldn’t stop the disappointment from leaching into my voice. Guess he was in a hurry to get back to my place.

“Is that okay? I just thought you’d be more comfortable that way.”

Yeah, right. “It’s fine.”

“Are you sure? I could call and get us reservations somewhere else, if you want,” he said, lifting his cell phone from the truck’s center console. “It’s last minute, but I’m sure I could find us something.”

“No, really. It’s okay.” I gave him a quick smile. “I’m just a little surprised, that’s all. I figured a guy like you would have this dating thing down to a science.”

He glanced over at me. “A guy like me?”

“You know, someone who dates a lot of different women.”

Cowboy turned left into the parking lot of a restaurant called Junior’s Diner, which resembled a big red barn, and parked in the front row. “I think we have different definitions of what a date is.”

My cheeks burned with the heat of embarrassment, so I removed my seat belt to avoid looking in his direction. “You know what I mean.”

Cowboy opened his door and stepped out. “Yeah, I do,” he said, sounding perturbed by my remark. After marching around to my side, he yanked open the passenger door and took my hand in his to help me out. “And just for the record, I haven’t been with nearly as many women as you think I have.”

“Really?” I climbed out of his jacked-up truck and my eyes grazed over his face, searching for signs of sincerity. “Because I heard you were quite the—”

“Hey, manwhore!” someone called out, redirecting our attention. Emily stood on the nearby curb with an amused grin on her face.

Cowboy narrowed his eyes at her intrusion. The look he gave her was priceless: no parts embarrassment, all parts aggravation. Then he turned back to me. “We’ll finish this conversation later.”

I smiled. “All right.”

“What are you two doing here?” Emily asked, squinting in confusion.

Cowboy hesitated. “We’re…uh, just having dinner.”

As we approached, Jake met Emily on the curb and his gaze landed on his friend. Jake’s eyes widened as he gawked at Cowboy’s attire and neatly styled hair. “What the f*ck happened to you?”

I bit my lip to stifle my laughter and to keep from smiling, but Emily didn’t. She chuckled out loud without any reservations at all.

“Since when the hell did you start wearing blazers?” Jake asked.

“What are you, the fashion police?” Cowboy retorted. “Guess that’s what the FBI stands for: Fashion Bureau of—”

“Yeah, yeah. Knock it off.”

Cowboy gritted his teeth together, then relaxed his jaw. “What are you two doing here?”

“We’re celebrating,” Emily said, gleefully. “It’s been exactly six weeks since we’ve been able to have se—”

Jake covered Emily’s mouth and gave her a stern look. “Since we had Lily.” Then he removed his hand.

Emily rolled her eyes. “Oh, because they haven’t heard the word ‘sex’ before. Jesus, Jake. You’re such a prude sometimes.”