Page 34 of The Cowboy's Redemption
The frown vanished. She leaned toward him, folded forearms on the table from elbow to wrist. “Do you remember the story about the dancer whose husband and dance partner died suddenly, and then she married another dancer they’d both been friends with, and how everyone thought it was so sad and tragic because it looked as if she was trying too hard to hang on to the past, and she’d never love her second husband as much as the first?”
“Never heard it,” Levi said.
But it wasn’t hard to see where she was going with this. He’d always be the consolation prize. The stand-in. Second best.
But his mom wasn’t finished. “Who cares how their relationship looks to outsiders? Nobody asked her how she feels. They judged her based on the public’s perception of her. My advice to you? Don’t pay attention to what other people might think, especially when it’s none of their business.”
Sunshine reemerged. He hadn’t given his mother enough credit. That he would always be second best hadn’t been the message she was trying to send him with her story at all.
She kissed his cheek, then patted his hand. “Now finish your gingerbread and let’s go find you a suit.”
*
Dana
Dana hung herdress in Otto’s cabin next to Levi’s suit. There was no room for their clothes in the ten-foot living space of her trailer and she didn’t want them to wrinkle.
That night, they faced each other across her small, drop-down kitchenette table. Levi was wedged into one of the narrow bench seats that at night, unfolded into her bed, wearing nothing but jeans with a button he hadn’t bothered to fasten. He’d stretched his long legs across the short space between them, and the soles of his bare feet warmed her hips. She wore a T-shirt and panties and had her feet propped in his lap.
They each nursed a beer while they played Scrabble. They were both cheating. Whoever won got to decide the next game they played, and while she wanted to win, it was no big deal if she lost, because she gave him full credit. When it came to sex, he was as creative as he was considerate.
But they couldn’t remain isolated and naked forever, and while this had been nice, they ran the risk of discovery. She didn’t need her name linked with another cowboy, especially one connected to Tanner.
“I’ve only ever seen you drink beer from a glass,” Levi said.
She paused, the beer bottle grazing her lip. “When I’m with other people, yes. Not alone.”
“I’m here. I’m people.”
She shrugged, cocked her eyebrows at him, and cast him her sweetest smile. “I don’t drink beer half-naked in public, but if it will make you happy, we can put our clothes on, pretend there’s a crowd, and I’ll pour my beer in a glass.”
His eyes carried those promises that always made her thoughts tumble toward the bedroom. “Keep your bottle. We’re good. And it’s your turn.”
She glanced at the board where he’d laid down fresh tiles. “That’s not a word.”
“Yes, it is. It’s Latin.”
“Use it in a sentence.”
“Thearctodusis an extinct genus of short-faced bear that outweighs the grizzly.”
“Don’t try to use your fancy degree against me, mister,” she said. “That’s cheating.”
His hand went to his heart. “How is it cheating?”
“I have no way of knowing ifarctodusis really a word. I can’t look it up. We don’t have any internet connection, remember?”
“I just told you it’s a word. Isn’t that enough for you?”
“You expect me to take your word for it?”
“I took your word for it when you usedzlerbegand said it’s a type of ladies’ handbag. I have two sisters, six female cousins, a niece, a mother, and three aunts. Not one of them has ever carried azlerbeg.”
“That you know of.” Dana wriggled her toes in his lap, just to torment him, determined to make him work for it before she gave in—which they both knew would happen.
“I—”
Levi stopped talking and turned his face to the door, slanting his head as if listening, but with the generator running inside the barn right next to the trailer, whatever he thought he heard was a mystery to her. Still worrisome, though.
