Page 76 of The Banker and the Blue Collar Man

The music got louder as we ate, and I tried to resist a second beer, but Jake said, “You should get it. I’m paying, so enjoy.”

The second beer was as crisp as the first, and I loved watching Jake’s strong throat work as he tipped back his head, forgoing the frosted glass, and sucked down half a bottle in one swallow. Sitting there with him, I considered myself pretty damn lucky.

Three cowboy-looking fellows were standing around the mechanical bull, their hands in their back pockets, which seemed a common stance for cowboys. And now the reason for Jake wearing his hat became clear to me. A lot of the folks here were wearing straw cowboy hats.

Nobody looked out of place. Except for me, because I didn’t have a cowboy hat, of course. At least I had the right boots on my feet and dusty jeans to prove that I had contributed and workedhard. Not as hard as Jake, but then, nobody could match him in that department, at least as far as I was concerned.

“You going to get on the bull?” I asked Jake, just about shouting to be heard.

“No.” He shook his head, looking at me askance, as if I was quite foolish to suggest such a thing. “I get enough of being tossed off an animal in real life.”

“You’ve never been thrown,” I said, now shouting for real because the music had started up.

“Once or twice,” he shouted back. “Not volunteering for more.”

I nodded, because I’d been bucked off and knew how it felt. Somehow I finished my enormous cheeseburger, though most of the french fries were beyond me.

People started heading to the dance floor, and the music became more rhythmic, and maybe a tad less loud.

“Are we going to?” I asked, and when Jake raised his eyebrows at me, licking grease from his fingers and just about driving me mad, I added, “Dance?”

“If you’d like,” he said simply.

I felt a shiver of excitement as I followed him. We were moving through groups of people, and I reached out to grab some of his shirt and ended up hooking my fingers into his belt instead. His hand came back to cover mine, as if he was saying he didn’t mind. That I could hold on to him forever.

The music was louder on the dance floor, on account of the two giant speakers at one end. The wooden planks vibrated with the sound. Then the dance started up.

It was a line dance, which I’d never done before. Jake obviously had, because he knew all the steps and had an awareness of the people around him. Meanwhile, I was tripping over my own toes and bumping into people as I turned the wrong way with pretty much every spin.

I was sweating by the time the song ended, while Jake looked as unruffled as he always did. He was so tall. And handsome, and his eyes twinkled at me. I sensed looks of envy from the women near us, waiting for the next song.

A man came up to the microphone and said something about a two-step, and I was very much lost until Jake took my hands and placed one on his shoulder. He put his free hand on my waist, and I realized I was not about to lead the next dance. Jake was.

He was the man in this scenario, and that was fine by me. The bass notes pounded, and the lyrics were something aboutGive her a whirl, ’cause she’s Daddy’s girl.

And there was Jake, moving easily to the music, stepping forward while I stepped backward. Compared to him, I was a terrible dancer. Just terrible. But he made it feel okay, even if I stepped on his toes more than once.

When the song finished, I’d had enough of sharing Jake with everyone on the dance floor. When the next song began, another line dance, I pushed on his chest, urging him backward, all the way until we reached a wall.

We were out of the boom of the music, and the shadows of that corner were deep. I rose on my toes and kissed him, sighing with pleasure.

His hat tipped down, the brim hiding his face, but I could still see the glimmer of his eyes from beneath the hat’s shadow. He cupped my hand and held it against his heart, sweeping me to him, his other arm going around my waist. “I love it when you fetch up to me like that,” he said.

I was warm inside and warm all over. Everything he said to me was like a poem he’d written in his heart, to speak aloud only to me.

“Shall we head back?”

“Yes.” He gave me another kiss.

People were watching us, but I didn’t care. I just wanted to get back to the ranch for peace and quiet, where my arms could be full of Jake and my ears not be pounding from the noise. Where there was peaceful darkness and a cozy double bed.

We got in my car, and I drove us home, going slowly, my headlights on bright when I could, to avoid running over foxes and deer and coyotes. When I pulled up to bunkhouse six, I turned off the lights and the engine. Grabbed my phone, then ran my hand beneath the seat, and yes, there was the small bottle of lube.

I shoved both into my pockets and got out of the car only to see Xander, Dillon, and Cameron, all lined up. Xander had my suitcase next to him.

“Hey, guys,” I said, and if I’d not already, and gladly, agreed to move in with Jake, I’d have been feeling I was just about to get kicked out of the club.

“I packed it,” Xander said. “I was careful. Didn’t want anything to get lost.”