Page 28 of Cowboy's Healing Heart

The bar is crowded when we arrive, filled with the usual Friday night crowd. Country music plays from the jukebox, barely audible over the hum of conversation. The air is thick with the smell of beer and fried food.

I follow Tom to a table where a few other ranch hands are already seated. They nod in greeting, and I return the gesture, still not entirely comfortable with their easy camaraderie.

"What can I get you, boys?" a voice asks, and I look up to see a pretty brunette standing by our table. Her name tag reads 'Lisa'.

The others rattle off their orders, and Lisa turns to me with a smile. "And for you, handsome?"

I ignore the flirtatious tone in her voice. "Just a beer, thanks."

As Lisa walks away, I catch Tom watching me with a knowing look.

"What?" I ask.

He shakes his head, chuckling. "Nothing, man. Just wondering when you're gonna loosen up a bit."

I shrug, uncomfortable with the scrutiny. "I'm here, aren't I?"

Tom raises his hands in surrender. "Fair enough."

The conversation flows around me, talk of ranch business mixed with good-natured ribbing. I contribute when necessary, but mostly, I observe, nursing my beer.

Lisa returns periodically, always with a smile and a flirty comment. I respond politely but distantly, my mind elsewhere.

My cabin with Krystal.

Limbs tangled. Muffled moans. And a promise to never do it again.

It's not until I hear a familiar laugh that I really tune back into my surroundings. I turn, scanning the crowd, and there she is.

Krystal.

She's standing at the bar, talking animatedly with another woman I don't recognize. Her curly hair is down for once, falling in waves around her face. She's wearing a simple dress and boots, but somehow, she outshines everyone in the room.

As if sensing my gaze, Krystal turns, her eyes meeting mine across the crowded bar. For a moment, everything else fades away. Then she gives me a small nod and turns back to her friend.

I drain the rest of my beer, suddenly restless. "I'm gonna get another," I mutter to no one in particular, standing up.

I make my way to the bar, telling myself I'm not seeking her out. But as I wait for the bartender's attention, I find myself drifting closer to where Krystal stands.

"Fancy seeing you here, Kennedy," she says, not looking at me.

"I could say the same," I reply, keeping my voice neutral. "Didn't take you for the bar type."

She turns to face me with one eyebrow raised. "There's a lot you don't know about me."

The challenge in her voice stirs something in me. "It's not like I haven't tried."

We stand there, the tension between us palpable. I should walk away. Order my beer and go back to the table. But I can't seem to make myself move.

"Dance with me," Krystal says suddenly.

I blink, caught off guard. "What?"

She nods towards the small dance floor, where a few couples are swaying to a slow country song.

"Dance with me," she repeats. "Unless you're scared."

It's a dare, plain and simple. And despite every instinct telling me to back away, I nod.

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