Page 16 of The Cowboy Contract
Embarrassment bit at her insides as she crouched down, obscuring her entire body behind the bar.
Delores came at her with the small hand broom and dustpan set they used to handle minor messes. Paige took the items, sinking even lower. “Thanks.”
She wasn’t hiding, per se. She was simply doing what had to be done. Did it also mean Leland likely wouldn’t be able to find her and she wouldn’t be required to attempt to look him in the eye after spending the majority of the past few days thinking about the part of him she’d successfully ignored for years?
Hopefully.
Like the coward she was, Paige took her time, making sure every tiny shard was collected, sweeping each one into the dustpan before tipping it into the trash bin a couple feet away. Once that was done, she fumbled around on the counter above her head in search of a bar rag. Thankfully, she’d left one within reach. After grabbing it, she went to work wiping up the stickiness clinging to the scarred hardwood she’d had refinished right after her dad died. Again, she took her time. Ensuring every drop was wiped away.
Didn’t want to get ants. It was fall, but still. Those little things could be pesky. Probably.
By the time she was finished, it’d easily been ten minutes since Leland walked in. If she was lucky, he’d looked around, assumed she’d gone home for the day, and left.
It would be impossible to avoid him forever—not that she wanted to—but a little distance would probably do her some good. It would definitely do her libido some good.
Once there was no more reason to continue hiding—cleaning—behind the bar, she slowly straightened, hands gripping the edge of the counter as she pushed up.
“You must’ve made one hell of a mess. That took a while.”
Fuck.
Leland was standing on the other side of the bar, leaned against it, eyes crinkled with amusement.
Paige continued rising, even though all she wanted was to drop to the floor and pretend he couldn’t see her. “I just didn’t want to risk anyone stepping on glass.”
One hand went to her hair, smoothing it down while the other did the same with her deep blue dress. Leland had seen her in just about every state imaginable, from sick with the flu to completely decked out for formal events, so it was ridiculous she was worried about how she looked now.
Forcing her hands to drop to her side, she fought on a smile. “Busy day?”
Leland shrugged as he slid onto the barstool across from her, obviously prepared to settle in. “It’s actually been pretty quiet.” His lips curved into a smile. “Way quieter than Monday night was.”
He was acting perfectly normal. Like he had no clue about her… reaction to him. Which was great.
Fantastic.
“You’d cry too if you had all that gas stuck in your stomach.” She pulled out a glass, filling it with a scoop of ice and Leland’snormal on-duty drink of choice, before sliding the Coke Zero across the counter.
His smile turned teasing, dark eyes sparkling in the low light of the bar. “Would you give me the same treatment you gave him?”
Her head tipped back on a genuine laugh. “You know what? I would.”
Leland picked up his drink, taking a sip before lifting a finger in her direction. “I’m going to hold you to that.”
“That doesn’t surprise me at all.” She continued laughing as she left him to go serve a set of women who’d approached the bar. Unfortunately, once those women had their drinks, another group took their place. And then another.
And then another.
Soon the bar was packed, Leland was nowhere to be seen, and she was racing around, trying to keep her head above water. It was still a little surreal how busy the place got considering the run-down cowboy bar her father left her when he died had barely made enough to pay their bills when she was a kid.
In the years since he’d passed, she’d worked hard to morph it into the kind of place everyone in Moss Creek would feel comfortable coming for a drink. Because cowgirls needed alcohol too. Especially since they were the ones frequently dealing with the cowboys. And most of those cowboys didn’t know how to act right.
And at eight o’clock, one of the least right actors came striding through the door. He stopped a few feet in, eyes narrowed as they scanned the space.
Paige groaned because she knew exactly what he was looking for.
“Shit.” She took a few steps back, getting behind the bar before crouching down, trying to hide for the second time that night.
Carlton Tucker was a cross between John Wayne and Gaston fromBeauty and the Beast. He was big and obnoxious with bulging muscles that were absolutely pharmaceutically enhanced and two brain cells he hadn’t quite figured out how to rub together to create the spark of thought.
