Page 19 of Loving Hard on the Highway

“I’m game if you are,” Sean said.

“I guess we’ll take you up on your offer.”

Ollie let out a cheerful yip, and Ms. Wy was tickled.

?

When I stepped from behind the changing screen in the room, Sean’s jaw nearly dropped. The yellow milkmaid-style mini dress, paired with my only pair of boots, was the only outfit I had that I thought would fit the night’s theme. Rick hated it when I wore dresses like this, and judging from Sean’s reaction, I could see why.

“You are so damn hot,” was all he could say.

I looked him over in his dark jeans and short-sleeved designer shirt. The man had great fashion sense.

“You too.” I gave him a cheeky smile.

I wasn’t sure what to expect from a western bar, but the Guns Blazing Saloon did not disappoint. We passed through the swinging saloon doors to the restaurant side of the bar and were met with the aroma of whiskey and roasted meat. The red velvet curtains, wood-beamed ceiling, and piano man tinkering away set the mood.

The waitresses were dressed like saloon girls, and dancers kicked up their ruffled skirts on stage. Heck, even the bartender dressed the part in suspenders and a curled mustache.

Between the food, the booze, and the dancing, I had to admit it was a really fun time. A somewhat familiar song came on, and I grabbed Sean by the hand for a live dance. We joined the actors and several patrons as the dance kicked off.

Sean raised a brow. “This is your idea of romantic?”

I smirked, adding a spin to the simple sidestep. “Only if you survive the mechanical bull after this.”

“I will if you will,” he teased.

“Oh, I would totally ride the bull.” I gave him a wink.

His laugh came easily, surprised. “God help me.”

Boots were stomping and ruffled skirts flying as we swirled around the sawdust covered dance floor. The whole room buzzed with staged rowdiness as the actors ginned up the immersive experience.

I leaned in close to Sean and whispered, “I think one of the saloon girls just winked at you.”

He turned to her, eyes glinting. “Jealous?”

I slipped my hand into his as the line dance ended and went into a slower, bluesy song. “Maybe.”

He pulled me in close, and we eased into a sway to the rhythm. I rested my head on his chest as he sang along to the man professing his devotion to his love. I hummed along. When I glanced up, our lips met.

I wasn’t sure when the nerves I’d felt earlier, after seeing the one bed in the room, had faded. Somewhere between the dinner, the whisky shot, and now the dancing, I’d relaxed, laughed, and allowed myself to enjoy the moment completely.

Outside, under the soft glow of the antique street lantern lights, I felt a swirl of excitement for what might happen tonight.And there was no hesitation. Rick no longer held my life hostage, and I really wanted to get some.

“Look.” Sean handed me his phone. “Miss Wy says Ollie is doing fine, and he’s sound asleep. Enjoy the night and pick him up in the morning.”

“Aww,” I cooed at the pic and handed him back the phone. I looked up at him, feeling the night thrum under my skin.

“So…” I said slowly, trying to be casual. “Nightcap in the room?”

His eyes softened. His thumb traced a slow, absent circle on my wrist as we walked back to the hotel.

I smiled, slow and sure.

The room door clicked shut behind us, and the silence that followed felt louder than any music in the saloon. It felt as though something that had been heating all night was now seconds from bubbling over.

I turned on the lamp by the Victorian leather chaise, bathing the room in amber light. He stood by the door for a second, eyes on me, jaw tight like he was holding himself still.

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