Page 78 of Take Me Home

I sigh. “Okay, Dr. Miller.”

Jackson grins, leaning back in his seat.

Owen taps his fingers against the tabletop, twisting his mouth to the side. “So, what’s the deal with Hattie’s friend?”

I arch a brow. “Hattie told me she’s engaged. Leave her alone.”

“She’s not wearing a ring,” he challenges.

“You’re incorrigible,” Jackson says.

The three of us are chuckling when the girls come back to the booth, their cheeks pink from dancing. Still standing, they grab their now-melted margaritas from the table and drink them like they’re water.

The beginning notes of Cotton Eyed Joe blare through the speakers, and my sister jumps up and down. “Come on! We can’t skip this one!”

Jackson stands and offers her his arm, and she loops hers through his.

Hattie takes my hand and tugs. I let her drag me onto the dance floor, even though I don’t feel like dancing. I’d rather sink down onto the floor and listen to a sad violin.

To my surprise, Owen and Blair appear beside us. I don’t miss how Hattie eyes her friend warily, and I wonder if Hattie knows why her friend’s engagement ring seems to be missing.

Everyone is dancing and laughing in the center of the packed dance floor, while my body feels completely numb. The room seems to move in slow motion, like I’m watching the scene through a snow globe. I watch my friends and my sister with Hattie; everyone relaxed in each other’s company.

I can easily picture Hattie being in my life like this…daily. I want her to be in my life. I want to see her every day; I want to have dinner together, want to watch her give Tripp jump lessons…I can see a whole life before me, with Hattie.

My heart thrums rapidly inside my chest as I dance with the fiery woman I can’t get out of my head. The need to talk to her, to get her alone, nearly overwhelms me. But as the song ends, Blair drapes her arm around Hattie. It looks like she had one too many margaritas and can hardly keep her red-rimmed eyes open.

“Hattie, I hate to take you away from your cowboy man candy here. But I’m exhausted. Are you ready to head home?” She slurs a few of the words, then finishes her question with a dopey grin.

Hattie leans her head against Blair’s but looks up at me. There are a million unspoken sentiments in her expression, and I get the overwhelming sense she wants to talk as much as I do. Neither of us wants to go to sleep tonight without figuring things out. At least, I hope that’s the case.

Unfortunately for me, Blair is her priority tonight…as she should be.

“I better get this one tucked in for the night,” Hattie tells me.

“Who drove tonight?” I ask her.

Hattie grimaces, her eyes flicking to Blair. “Shit. I guess none of us can drive home. I only had one marg, but I’m still feeling it. And I lost count of Blair’s.”

Poppy joins our small circle beside the dance floor, looking just as tipsy as Blair.

“I’ll give you girls a ride back to the cabin,” I volunteer. There’s no way in hell I’m letting any of these lightweights drive.

“Thank you,” Hattie says. “Sorry about that, I rarely drink and forgot how strong some places make their margaritas.”

I arch a brow. “Yeah, those must’ve been pretty damn strong.”

Blair reaches into the front of her dress and when she pulls it back out, she’s holding a Mercedes key fob that she dangles in front of my face.

I wrinkle my nose, grabbing them. “Thanks.”

“Hattie, he’s such a nice cowboy,” Blair tries to whisper the words, but anyone within a three-yard radius can hear her.

Hattie giggles. “You wouldn’t be saying that if you’d met him the day I arrived.”

Blair’s face morphs into a hilariously drunk glare. “Were you mean to my best friend?”

“He was just grumpy,” Hattie says. “But he chopped firewood for me every single day.”