The Virgin Cowboy Billionaire’s Secret Baby(22)

Inside, the air was thick from the fritters, fries and chicken cooking in the back, not to mention the vaguely sweet scent of the sawdust on the floor. On the walls, some of the old beer-ad posters were starting to curl around the edges in between the mounted deer and antelope heads. Those trophies were also starting to show their age despite the recent additions of baseball caps and, in the case of one pronghorn, a half-smoked cigarette hanging out of its mouth. Dara had long suspected those things were so old, their hunters and taxidermists were already long dead.

And behind the bar, pouring beer just like he had for years, Old Man Hanson hadn’t aged a day. He’d looked a hundred back then, and he looked a hundred now. Dara smiled. She was glad to see the old man still here and still kicking. He’d always been such a nice guy—everybody’s grandpa.

The friends she’d made in Los Angeles would’ve walked into this bar, turned up their noses and run screaming back out the door, but she loved it. Hanson’s Place was one of the few places in Aspen Mill that didn’t have to be quaint and perfect like all the storefronts down on Main Street. This was where every teenager in town had their first beer, and where everybody over twenty-one hung out after the rodeo. This was the place to drink and curse on Friday and Saturday nights before church on Sunday.

Tonight, by the time Dara arrived with Matt and Beth, the place was packed. It was belt buckles and beer bottles as far as the eye could see, everyone chatting and laughing while the ancient jukebox played some Merle Haggard. Just like old times.

“So.” Dara turned to Matt. “Should we get drinks and—wait, where’s Beth?”

“At the bar. She lost a bet, so first round’s on her.”

Dara glanced toward the bar, where sure enough, Beth was ordering from a guy who must’ve been the old man’s grandson. To Matt, she said, “Uh, does she know I’m not drinking?”

Matt lowered his voice. “She knows. And yes, she knows why.”

“What?” Dara stared at him. “You told her?”

He put up his hands. “Look, I needed a little advice about dealing with my parents.”

“Oh. Yeah. Fair enough.” She pursed her lips. “What does she think? About our…”

“Situation?” He shrugged. “She’s looking forward to spoiling him rotten, and if I know her, she’s already picking out one of the older horses for the kid’s lessons.”

Dara laughed. “Yeah, that sounds like Beth.”

Beth returned a moment later with a couple of Cokes for them and a longneck for herself. They clinked their glasses and her bottle together.

“Congrats, by the way.” Beth smiled at her.

Dara returned it. “Thanks.”

They didn’t push the subject any further than that. Beth was undoubtedly smart enough to be discreet, even here at Hanson’s Place. Every wall in Aspen Mill had ears.

The three of them mingled, and eventually, they separated. Beth disappeared to play pool with some of the guys. Someone pulled Matt aside to ask him about something Dara didn’t hear. Some more old classmates wanted to catch up with Dara.

When her conversation reached a lull, she searched the crowd for Matt and found him standing in a small group near the edge of the room. His eyes darted from one person to the next. He shifted his weight, alternately glancing at the people around him and into his glass. One of the women in the group sidled closer, letting her arm brush his. She smiled coquettishly, and he smiled back but then took a deep swallow of Coke. He had mayday! written all over his face, so Dara quickly excused herself from her conversation.

She made her way over to where he was standing. When she was close to him, she didn’t dare put a hand on his elbow or do anything that might be misconstrued as non-platonic, especially not with the other woman clearly trying to get his attention. Instead, she bumped him as she walked by, and when he turned around, the instinctive “sorry” already coming out of his mouth as if he’d been the one to crash into her, she mouthed, Want to get out of here?

He glanced at the group and at the woman beside him. Turning back toward Dara, he shook his head. “Not yet.”

She smiled. “Okay.” Man, some things definitely never changed. All she had to do was offer him an out, and he was fine. It was like once he knew he had an escape, he could breathe, and then he didn’t want to leave.

She smiled to herself.

“We don’t have to stay,” she heard herself telling him over the music on prom night. “We can take off whenever you’re ready.”

He’d stopped. Taken a breath. Wiped a few beads of sweat off his forehead. And then he’d smiled and shaken his head. “No, I’m good. As long as you’re having a good time?”