Page 22 of Still A Cowboy
Willa gave him a half-smile as she topped off another pint. “That’s a beautiful story, Gus.”
He patted the bar. “My Olive hated beer, by the way. But she said she had a hankering for one that night and she drank a Mooncatcher without even knowing the legend.”
She nodded. Willa had heard this story too many times to count, but her attention drifted toward the corner booth where Cal sat with Fia and Mason. Fia was in another over-the-top costume, this time as a witch with glittery green boots, and Mason was dressed like a clumsy pirate with an eyepatch that kept slipping.
Cal wasn’t in costume, but the jeans, boots, and Stetson passed well enough. More than well enough. The man and his jeans.
Willa’s stomach tightened when she looked at him.
They hadn’t talked since that night in her apartment. Since the toe rescue. Since the kiss that rattled her right to her bones.
She had thrown herself into work. Every shift. Every back-to-back booking. When she wasn’t working, she stayed holed up in her room, keeping busy with anything that didn’t involve thinking about him.
It wasn’t working.
Because he was still here, still impossible to ignore, sitting in her bar like he belonged. Andshe wasn’t sure how much longer she could keep pretending that kiss didn’t still burn under her skin.
As Willa slid another pint across the bar, the door opened and a couple walked in, turning heads as they made their way through the crowd. They were dressed in elaborate costumes. The man wore a sharp black suit with a deep red cape, his mask gold and dramatic. The woman’s dress was fitted, dark red with intricate beading, and her matching mask glittered under the saloon lights.
They didn’t take off their masks.
The pair moved easily through the bar, like they belonged here, but something about them snagged Willa’s attention. She wondered if they were the couple from the window. The ones Cal and she had watched. The ones who had left her skin buzzing with more questions than answers.
She tracked them as they found a table near the back, settling in like they had no plans to reveal their faces anytime soon.
From the corner of her eye, she saw Fia waving her over. Fia had her phone in hand and was clearly trying to get her attention.
Willa shook her head and waved her off. She had work to do. She wasn’t in the mood for whatever Fia had found now, especially since Cal was sitting right across from her sister.
Delia appeared beside her, taking the pint from her hand and placing it in front of a customer without missing a beat. “Go,” Delia said, her toneleaving no room for argument. “Fia has something to show you, and you’ve been on your feet all night. Take a break. Sit with your sister.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re working yourself into the ground. Go.” And that time, it was an order.
Willa let out a quiet sigh and set her towel down. “Okay. Just for a minute.”
Delia’s smile softened, but her eyes still held that knowing look that made Willa suspicious. Her mom had throttled back on the soulmate push to get her to hook up with Cal, but with Delia, there could always be something up her sleeve.
Willa made her way toward Fia’s booth, careful not to trip over her tail, her heart already picking up speed. She wasn’t sure if it was because of Fia’s excitement or the fact that Cal’s eyes had just found her across the room.
Fia grinned as Willa reached the booth and tugged her down onto the seat right next to Cal. He smelled like leather and something warm, something that pulled at her senses in the worst way.
“Okay, so I went down a rabbit hole,” Fia said, holding up her phone like she had struck gold. “Look what I found.”
On the screen was a photo of Cal in his bull riding days. He was wearing a blue plaid shirt, a protective vest, and a black cowboy hat, one hand raised in the air as he clung to the back of a bull mid-buck. His grin was cocky, wild, like he knewexactly what he was doing and didn’t care how dangerous it was.
Fia swiped to another photo where Cal was strutting across the arena with his hat tipped back, jeans fitting him far too well, his gloves hanging from one belt loop like it was all just a normal Tuesday.
“Damn,” Fia said, waving the phone between them. “You’re a hot cowboy, but you were just as hot a bull rider.”
Willa’s mouth went dry. She told herself to look away, but her eyes kept pulling back to the photos. Cal’s arm brushed against hers, a small, steady heat she couldn’t shake.
He kept sliding glances at her. She kept sliding glances at him.
Fia swiped to another photo and laughed. “Okay, this one’s my favorite.”
Willa leaned in. It was a perfectly timed shot of Cal getting slammed onto the back of the bull, his legs awkward, his hat flying off, and his expression frozen somewhere between surprise and regret.
