Page 31 of Ropers Can't Tie Knots
“This sounds a lot like a date, Gabe.”
Yep. It sure does, and that’s what I want it to be.
“Let’s call it a celebration. It looked like you were having fun, and the day was a success.”
Hunter studies me in that quiet way again. Like he’s not sure how to react or what to say, and maybe he’s never met anyone like me. Maybe he’s still trying to figure me out and I’m okay with that, too.
“It was a definite success. I’m trying out a new roping partner and getting back into it. Into roping, I mean. We need to work out the rodeo schedule, but I’m making a comeback.”
His almost-shy smile does me in. Hunter wants to shout about this to anyone. It’s right there, and he’s holding back on expressing the joy. I want him to celebrate this. With me. Tonight. He should smile and shout, and tell me how excited he is to be back in rodeo.
“I definitely think that requires a celebration. So…will you have dinner with me tonight and teach me how to dance while we mark your return to the ring?”
This time, he laughs out loud before draining the beer. He rinses the bottle and leaves it in the sink. “You think I know how to dance?”
“I know you do.”
When he notices I’m not bluffing, he shakes his head. “You won’t give up if I say no, will you?”
“Not a bit.” I laugh.
“Give me fifteen then. I’ll get cleaned up, but I’m driving.”
He disappears up the stairs, pulling off his shirt on the way, and I fan my face. Lord, it’s almost a crime to look that good.
And he didn’t say no.
“Spill it,” Hunter says as he pops a fry in his mouth. “How do you know so much about me that I haven’t told you?”
After arriving at the Happy Badger, you’d think the king himself had entered. So many people fawned over Hunter, and it had been confusing at first. Until I saw the photos on the back wall of a much younger version of Hunter and what had to be his grandmother holding dance trophies.
“Google,” I say with a laugh. “But mostly Penny. She was the one who told me about this and dancing.” Knowing how close he was with his grandmother, and seeing so many patrons greet him like they haven’t seen him for a decade, I wonder if I crossed a line, and he’s just being polite. “Was it wrong to ask you here?”
Hunter wipes his mouth with a napkin and leans back in the booth.
“Not at all. It was probably the kick in the ass I needed.” He turns his head to the wall of photos and smiles. “My grandma was an amazing dancer, and my grandfather hated it. It was the one thing she defied his wishes on. She taught dance of all kinds, and when this place opened up, offering a place to dance casually, then had a competition…well, she was all over it as much as possible.”
Hunter drops his chin for a moment and tears at the napkin. “Since she accepted me as I am, I went with her a lot. Dancing was fun when I couldn’t be at a rodeo. It let me just…be, you know?” Hunter’s gaze shifts to a wall of photos near us. “We won three competitions here before she got sick. I was her main man.” His smile returns and holy shit, Jackson was right. I’m crushing so hard on this man with a million layers, like some sort of sexy stacking Russian doll.
The music turns up, and couples flood the dance floor. Hunter’s smile returns as he watches the couples dance. His body moves to the music subtly, like he’s only waiting for me to signal I’m ready.
“I’m two left feet. Think you can teach me all those moves, cowboy?”
“I’m a little rusty, but I’ll give it a go if you promise not to step on my boots.”
“I somehow doubt you’re as rusty as you say. You don’t rope anymore, and from what I saw today, you looked pretty good. I think dancing will come just as easily.”
Yeah, I like to talk big and I’m usually good at it, but watching the couples on the dance floor move as one and look so graceful makes me nervous. Forget about stepping on his boots. I’m more concerned about falling on my ass.
Hunter stands and nods his head to the dance floor. “Come on, counsellor. Don’t be scared. It’s super easy.”
Sliding out of the booth, I drain my drink and place it on the table. Hunter’s deep rumble of a laugh has me shooting him a scowl.
“You asked for this, counsellor. Don’t chicken out now.”
Hunter takes my hand and leads me to the dance floor, where I’m hyper aware of the eyes watching the dance prodigy return home. He positions my hand on his shoulder before holding my other one to the side.
“Quick, quick, slow, slow, Gabe. Just do that and feel where my body leads you. No fancy spins or dips.”
