Page 19 of The Spice Is Nice

“So that’s why you hooked me,” Colt quipped with a wink. The warmth of his deep voice matched the level of warmth in his eyes. When he peered down at me, the corner of his mouth did that thing where it almost smiled but didn’t quite commit. My stomach flipped in a way that had nothing to do with performance and everything to do with the fact that his almost-smile could be the most devastating weapon in Silver County to a girl’s heart.

Tina tilted her head and gazed upon us, chewing her cheek as if not buying the casual act. Smart woman. But what if the next Gossip Gal featured us? I should give her a sign or say something only for her ears and see if it ends up in her writing, if it’s her.

“Actually, Tina, in case you hadn’t heard, we are getting cozy. Very cozy. More than friends for a while now.”

“So Colt is off the market? What a shame. I overheard some women in the bathroom talking about him.”

The green-eyed monster rose within me. I swallowed hard, quickly stamping it out.

“You can tell them there’s only one woman I have eyes for.” Colt layered it on thick, complete with pulling me closer into him.

“I’ll help you spread the news,” she finished with a knowing glance at me. “Daisy’s not here tonight? And what about Knox?”

Ah-hah! She must be the Gal.

“Daisy was too tired from work and wanted to stay home,” I provided.

“Knox claimed to have pulled a muscle calming down a horse today,” Colt said.

“Two bucks for the soda,” the bartender called out.

“Put it on my tab,” I exclaimed, and handed Tina the glass. “Here you go, Tina. The least I can do for you.” I nodded at her, with an all-knowing glance right back.

“Thanks, Ivy. And Colt, is Jake here tonight? I’ve been looking everywhere for him.”

“He had barn duty. We have a few horses we’re keeping an eye on around the clock right now.”

“Oh.” Her shoulders fell. I couldn’t have her sad. What if that leaked into her writing on Gossip Gal?

“Hey, there are plenty of guys here. Need me to introduce you around? I’m a great wing-woman,” I encouraged her, but she shook her head and made her way to the door,disappearing through the crowd. “Tina, wait. Let me help?—”

Colt stopped me. “Let her go. Jake was talking about her this week. I think he’s ramping up to ask her out. So let things flow naturally.”

I was glad to hear it, and he was right. I just hoped she got plenty of good things to report if she really was the Gossip Gal.

“Dance with me,” Colt insisted. Not a question. He set our drinks on the bar and took my hand. The confidence in that gesture sent a pulse of heat through my body that I blamed entirely on the fact that I simply liked to dance with anyone.

Gone by Christmas was the message he made clear. Damn shame; I’d miss his friendship. Would we at least have that across the miles when this was all said and done? Keep in touch now and then?

Those thoughts left me the moment he pulled me in close on the slow song, closer than last time, his hand firm around my waist and our bodies aligned in a way that left no light between his chest and mine. He moved me through the two-step, quick-quick-slow-slow, that made every woman in the room glance our direction.

“People are watching,” I murmured, my lips near his jaw.

“That’s the idea.” His hand slid an inch lower down my back.

“You’re getting better at this fake boyfriend thing.”

“Says the woman with her mouth at my neck. Who’s performing now, Wylde?”

I pulled back enough to peer up at him. My breathcaught. If he was acting, he played the role well. His eyes were laser-focused on me. The entire bar disappeared.

“Careful, Calhoun, a girl could get used to this.”

Another inch further his hand went, almost cupping my bottom, when the song ended. The DJ announced he’d take a break. Colt stepped back with a smoldering smile, and a couple of the ranch guys came laughing up to him, taking him away to do a round of shots. The moment shattered between us like glass hitting the floor.

My heart hammered. None of that was real. We were performing. We had rules. He was leaving at Christmas. I didn’t do relationships. The rules existed for exactly this reason: because Colt Calhoun’s hands on my body and his eyes on my face made me feel things I had no business feeling. The last time I’d felt things like this for a man, I’d ended up as an accessory to crimes I was still afraid to talk about.

I sighed and left the dance floor. With Colt occupied, I still had a job to do. I shook off the warmth he’d left behind and got back to it, moving through the crowd the way I always worked a room—touching shoulders, laughing at the right moments, steering single women toward groups of cowboys who looked like they’d forgotten how to start a conversation. The night was working. I needed to work it back.