order.”
“What are you smiling at?” Beth asked.
“Stella’s right.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m smitten.”
Beth snorted.
He handed her the margarita, then clanked his beer bottle against the rim of her glass. “Here’s to wherever this leads.” He hoped to heck the journey was a long one, because he was in no hurry to say goodbye to Beth.
“Ooh, this is good!” She swallowed a second gulp.
“Better than your usual?”
“I like red wine. It’s healthy for you.”
“You’re too young to worry about your health.”
She drained her margarita glass, and Mack signaled Stella to bring her a second then leaned closer. God, she smelled good. “Have I mentioned I like that you’re a couple of years older than me?”
“It’s rude to bring up a lady’s age.”
“That whole wisdom-comes-with-age thing turns me on.” He kissed the soft patch of skin below her ear then licked the tiny spot with his tongue. “Older means wiser, better, more experienced—”
“I’m none of those things.”
Stella showed up with round two. “Doesn’t appear you’re ready to order.”
“I’ll wave you down when we decide,” Mack said.
Stella went to talk to the band, who’d taken a break. A quarter found its way into the jukebox and an old Merle Haggard song filled the bar. Mack stood. “Dance with me?”
There it was again—that flicker of doubt in her eyes. After a moment’s hesitation she put her hand in his and he led her onto the floor. He pulled her close and held her hand against his heart. They swayed to the music and Beth relaxed in his arms. He hoped it was him and not the alcohol lowering her guard.
“Mack?”
He rubbed his cheek against hers. “What?”
“Why do men cheat?”
He held her tighter—wishing he could shield her from hurt. “Men cheat because they’re assholes.”
Her fingers played with his shirt button. “Are you including yourself in that category?”
“I’m no saint, and I’ve done a few stupid things in my life that probably made Grandma Ada spin in her grave.” He looked Beth in the eye. “But I’ve never cheated on a woman.”
A sigh escaped her mouth, the puff of air buffeting his neck in a gentle caress. The need to kiss her overwhelmed him, and he lowered his head—
“Is that you, Mack Cash?”
Startled, he glanced up. “Steve Bulldog Bennigan.” Keeping one hand against Beth’s lower back he greeted his former rodeo partner.
Steve eyed Beth. “Hello, darlin’.” He glanced at Mack. “I see your taste in women has improved.”
“This is Beth Richards. Beth, Steve Bennigan. We traveled the circuit together for a few years.”
Steve grasped Beth’s hand and kissed her knuckles. She seemed reluctant to pull her hand free from his grip.
The door opened and another cowboy entered the bar. “Hey, Blake.” Steve waved the man over. “Look who I ran into.”
Blake removed his hat and offered Mack his hand, his eyes straying to Beth. “Ma’am.”
“This is Mack’s girlfriend, Beth Richards,” Steve said.
“Nice to meet you.” Blake spoke to Mack. “Are you and the band playing tonight?”
“’Fraid not. Beth and I are here on business.”
“You in a hurry or do you have time for a game of poker?” Steve asked.
“Go ahead and play cards with your friends, Mack.” Beth smiled. “It’s been a long day. I think I’ll say good-night.”
The hell she would. He snagged her arm before she took a step. “Thanks, guys, but—”
“Beth,” Steve said, “do you know how to play poker?”
“Of course.”
Mack gaped at her. “You do?”
“My grandfather taught me to play when I visited him at the retirement home.”
Well, shoot. What else didn’t he know about his friend?
“I’m in,” she said then walked off to retrieve her margarita glass.
What happened to It’s been a long day?
“She’s not your usual date,” Blake said.
Steve landed a playful punch on Mack’s shoulder. “She
“What are you smiling at?” Beth asked.
“Stella’s right.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m smitten.”
Beth snorted.
He handed her the margarita, then clanked his beer bottle against the rim of her glass. “Here’s to wherever this leads.” He hoped to heck the journey was a long one, because he was in no hurry to say goodbye to Beth.
“Ooh, this is good!” She swallowed a second gulp.
“Better than your usual?”
“I like red wine. It’s healthy for you.”
“You’re too young to worry about your health.”
She drained her margarita glass, and Mack signaled Stella to bring her a second then leaned closer. God, she smelled good. “Have I mentioned I like that you’re a couple of years older than me?”
“It’s rude to bring up a lady’s age.”
“That whole wisdom-comes-with-age thing turns me on.” He kissed the soft patch of skin below her ear then licked the tiny spot with his tongue. “Older means wiser, better, more experienced—”
“I’m none of those things.”
Stella showed up with round two. “Doesn’t appear you’re ready to order.”
“I’ll wave you down when we decide,” Mack said.
Stella went to talk to the band, who’d taken a break. A quarter found its way into the jukebox and an old Merle Haggard song filled the bar. Mack stood. “Dance with me?”
There it was again—that flicker of doubt in her eyes. After a moment’s hesitation she put her hand in his and he led her onto the floor. He pulled her close and held her hand against his heart. They swayed to the music and Beth relaxed in his arms. He hoped it was him and not the alcohol lowering her guard.
“Mack?”
He rubbed his cheek against hers. “What?”
“Why do men cheat?”
He held her tighter—wishing he could shield her from hurt. “Men cheat because they’re assholes.”
Her fingers played with his shirt button. “Are you including yourself in that category?”
“I’m no saint, and I’ve done a few stupid things in my life that probably made Grandma Ada spin in her grave.” He looked Beth in the eye. “But I’ve never cheated on a woman.”
A sigh escaped her mouth, the puff of air buffeting his neck in a gentle caress. The need to kiss her overwhelmed him, and he lowered his head—
“Is that you, Mack Cash?”
Startled, he glanced up. “Steve Bulldog Bennigan.” Keeping one hand against Beth’s lower back he greeted his former rodeo partner.
Steve eyed Beth. “Hello, darlin’.” He glanced at Mack. “I see your taste in women has improved.”
“This is Beth Richards. Beth, Steve Bennigan. We traveled the circuit together for a few years.”
Steve grasped Beth’s hand and kissed her knuckles. She seemed reluctant to pull her hand free from his grip.
The door opened and another cowboy entered the bar. “Hey, Blake.” Steve waved the man over. “Look who I ran into.”
Blake removed his hat and offered Mack his hand, his eyes straying to Beth. “Ma’am.”
“This is Mack’s girlfriend, Beth Richards,” Steve said.
“Nice to meet you.” Blake spoke to Mack. “Are you and the band playing tonight?”
“’Fraid not. Beth and I are here on business.”
“You in a hurry or do you have time for a game of poker?” Steve asked.
“Go ahead and play cards with your friends, Mack.” Beth smiled. “It’s been a long day. I think I’ll say good-night.”
The hell she would. He snagged her arm before she took a step. “Thanks, guys, but—”
“Beth,” Steve said, “do you know how to play poker?”
“Of course.”
Mack gaped at her. “You do?”
“My grandfather taught me to play when I visited him at the retirement home.”
Well, shoot. What else didn’t he know about his friend?
“I’m in,” she said then walked off to retrieve her margarita glass.
What happened to It’s been a long day?
“She’s not your usual date,” Blake said.
Steve landed a playful punch on Mack’s shoulder. “She
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