Page 13 of Dirty Cowboy

“Get dressed. We’ve got places to be."

Her fingers comb through my freshly cut hair with obvious approval. "Love the trim. Says ‘sophisticated woman by day, sex kitten by night.’"

"Frankie’s handiwork," I say, ruffling the layers. "Where, exactly, are we going? I thought you had kids to put to bed."

She tugs me toward the stairs. "We’re going to infinity, and beyond. Sorry, Genie’s stuck on Toy Story mode. But wearegoing to Infinity."

I freeze mid-step. "Your brother’s club?"

"Not for me, for you," she sings.

"Oh, hell no." My voice hitches as I realize she’s completely serious.

She pulls me up the stairs with strength that only a mom of two possesses, and holds up a bag. "Pair what’s in here with your white cowboy boots and a hat. You’re performing for Eric Waters tonight."

"Wait, WHAT?" I spin around, yanking free from her grip.

"Eric’s meeting my brother at the club in thirty minutes, and you’re taking the stage. Please tell me you’re waxed." She tugs at my waistband, and I swat her away.

"Jesus, Grace! Have you lost your damn mind?"

She plants her hands on her hips, giving me the look. "No, but you’ve lost your sense of adventure. What happened to the girl who used to take risks?"

"She grew up." I cross my arms, trying to ignore the ache in my chest.

"She got boring." Grace waves a hand toward the glimmering outfit she’s spread across my bed. "This is your chance. Your moment. Don’t wimp out."

"If my brothers find out?—"

"They won’t. Just get dressed and make your move. Seize the opportunity."

There’s that phrase again.I stare at the sequined scraps of fabric, nerves twisting my stomach. My entire life, I’ve wanted Eric to see me as something more than the tagalong kid sister. But this? This isnotthe way I imagined it happening. I always pictured something cinematic. An accidental eye contact across a crowded room, soft candlelight, and maybe a stolen kiss under the stars. Definitelynotgrinding in a strip club while a sultry bassline and breathy moans pulse through the air.

But the other part of me? The part that’s tired of being overlooked? That part says, screw it.

An hour later, we slip through the back entrance of Infinity. Grace, ever the master manipulator, bribes the next dancer to give up her turn. She returns with a grin, practically vibrating with excitement.

"You’re up next. Eric’s sitting with my brother over on the left."

"Your brother?" My stomach plummets.

"Relax. Cash won’t say a word."

As the music shifts, I catch sight of the dancer leaving the stage, her bare ass flashing the crowd. My stomach knots.

"I don’t know what I’m doing," I whisper, my voice shaking.

Grace gives me a shove toward the stage. "Think of it as an undercover job."

An undercover job. Right.

Taking a deep breath, I tug my hat low over my eyes and step onto the stage.

Fuck. Fuck.Fuck.

The lights are blinding, and the music pulses through my bones. The crowd is loud, roaring, and waiting. My legs tremble, but I force myself forward, hips swaying, faking a confidence I definitely do not feel. As Shania’s voice belts through the speakers, I remind myself—this is my moment. Eric will finally see me for the woman that I am.

I strut to center stage, my nerves giving way to a heady rush of adrenaline. My body moves, instinct taking over. One glove slips off, landing in the crowd. Another follows. I drop to all fours, roll my hips, and drag my hat off, lifting my chin.