Casey shot Gray a death glare, modified it only slightly before he swung it to me then he turned on his boot and stomped in the direction of the hotel.

Gray shifted so my front was not tucked to his side but his front.

I looked up at him.

And at a glance, I knew this was worth it. Enduring that scene was worth it. And this was because Gray wasn’t grinning, no dimple, no tender look, no laughter and just his eyes soft on me, but still, I knew it was worth it

“You okay?” he asked.

I nodded.

“Five thirty?” he asked.

I nodded again.

That was when he grinned.

Oh yes. Definitely worth it.

“Glad his shit kept you in town, dollface,” he whispered.

I nodded again. I was glad too. Very glad.

He lifted a hand and cupped my jaw.

I held my breath.

Please kiss me, please kiss me. Please, please, please kiss me, my mind chanted.

“See you at five thirty,” he muttered, his fingers at my jaw tensed a second then he let me go.

I shifted woodenly and watched him walk to his truck parked on the square.

Then I licked my lips, turned back and headed to the hotel.

* * *

One hour later…

I had a dilemma.

No connections. Play it safe. No roots. Traveling. Hotels. Bars. No one but Casey and me.

This meant I didn’t know what I was doing.

I’d never been on a date.

I didn’t even know what a VFW was.

I just knew steak was a fancy meal. Casey and I splurged on our birthdays, on Christmas and on Thanksgiving. We saved up (or I did) and made it so. No gifts. Just togetherness, a good meal and a toast that we made it that far and another toast to the hope that our futures would be that we’d keep on making it.

But now, I had a looming date.

With Grayson Cody.

And even though I figured it would only be this one, not for me, but for him, I didn’t want to mess it up.

But I had no idea what I was doing.

Casey was staring at the TV, waiting for his dream girl to get off work and ignoring me. When he wanted to hold a grudge, he held it as long as he wanted and he did this by giving me the silent treatment.

But even if he wasn’t holding a grudge, I could hardly ask him what to do on a date.

When we’d run he’d been seventeen. He’d only had a handful of dates by then. And since then, his dates included getting some woman in a bar drunk then getting in her pants either in his car or while I made myself scarce and he had fun in our hotel room.

I didn’t suspect this was the same kind of date Grayson Cody gave a woman.

My brother couldn’t help me.

And I needed help.

And I knew who not only could help, but would.

I just didn’t know if I could find her.

But I was going to try.

I flipped closed the semi-stolen/mostly-borrowed library book I was not reading but still was holding close to my face, dropped it on the bed and rolled off.

Then I grabbed my jacket, scarf and purse, shrugging, wrapping and strapping them on.

Then I hit the door, muttering, “Be back.”

Casey didn’t even tear his eyes from the TV.

Really, he could hold a serious grudge.

I left him to it, ducked out of the room and hurried through the cold, late afternoon sidewalks of Mustang to the square.

Let her be there, let her be there, let her be there, my mind chanted as, head down, shoulders hunched, I walked through the cold.

I pushed through the door of The Rambler and looked right to the bar.

She was there.

Thank you, I whispered in my head.

Her eyes came to me as I headed to the bar, not the opposite end with my back to the wall, the near end with my back to the door.

“Hey,” she said, jerking up her chin. “Early tonight,” she remarked.

Another go at friendly. That door was still open.

Thank you, I repeated in a whisper in my head.

“Yeah, can I have a diet pop?”

She nodded, grabbed a glass, dunked it in the big ice bin and put it on the counter. Then she shot it with the soda gun.

“Heard Bud and his boys gave you trouble last night,” she said softly, curiously and carefully. She expected to be shut down.

I didn’t shut her down. I lifted my eyes from the glass to hers.

“Gray knew there’d be trouble, he was looking out for me.”

She took in a slight breath and replied, “Gray’s that way.”

More Gray intrigue.

I didn’t have time for Gray intrigue, alas.

I had a date with him that night.

“Anyway, a cop named Lenny showed up and Manny heard the commotion so Gray got backup and it all turned out okay,” I finished.

“Len’s a good man. And Manny doesn’t like trouble at his hotel. Bud, he’s a dick. He’s no stranger to trouble and Manny, or Len for that matter, especially Len, are no strangers to Bud’s brand of trouble.”

There it was. Bud spread his jerk cheer all through Mustang. Not a surprise.

“I shouldn’t have made that bet,” I muttered.

“Don’t know, girl,” she grinned. “Fifteen minutes to earn five hundred dollars? I’da made it.”

I held her gaze. Then, slowly, I grinned back.

She caught it, interpreted it correctly as the opening it was and leaned in instantly. “Where’d you learn how to play pool like that?” she asked then didn’t wait for me to answer. “Seriously, I couldn’t believe my eyes. Everyone’s talkin’ about it.”

Oh no. That was not good.

She kept speaking.

“You can’t be more than twenty-one.”

“I’m twenty-two,” I told her.

“Okay,” she grinned again, “you can’t be more than twenty-two. So, your age, how’d you learn to play pool like that?”

I wasn’t used to this. Sharing. I didn’t know how to do it. I just knew how not to.

So I told her the truth.

“I didn’t. It came naturally. I just picked up a pool cue one day and went for it. My brother flipped out. I can’t say I played then like I play now but…” I shrugged, “it just happened. It’s just something I can do.”

“Cool,” she whispered on a bigger grin.

I liked this, talking to her. It felt nice. Nice enough I could do it awhile. Nice enough, I might even be able to do it for hours.

But I had a mission.

And on that mission, I blurted, “What’s a VFW?”

Her head tilted sharply to the side and her brows drew together.

Then her head straightened, her brows drifted apart and she flat out smiled.

“Veterans of Foreign Wars,” she answered.

What on earth?

Janie kept talking.

“They got a lodge here. Veterans commune, they do shit, make money, give it to charity, have picnics, I don’t know, shit like that. And they make a mean steak. Do it as a fundraiser every Friday but also so they’ll have more reason to commune, eat meat and drink beer.”

“So, is it fancy?” I asked carefully.

She shook her head and leaned in closer, both arms on the bar. “No, babe. The steak is to die for, to kill for but it’s just a night out. Everyone’ll be there. Cool. Casual.” Her eyes held mine and she said softly, “You’re good just as you are.”

I wasn’t sure I was a big fan of “everyone’ll be there” but I still nodded.

Then she weirdly begged, “Please tell me it’s Gray.”

“Tell you what’s Gray?”

“Tell me it’s Gray who’s takin’ you to the VFW tonight.”

“It’s Gray,” I whispered.

She smiled huge.

I was surprised. I was also pleased I had her endorsement. But I was lastly confused.

“Why do you want me to tell you it’s Gray?”

She shrugged. “Don’t know. He’s Gray.”

“What’s that mean?” I asked and it was then Janie studied me.

Then she leaned in even deeper and stated. “Good people in this town, a lot of them. Bad people too but that’s the way of the world and luckily, in Mustang, there’s fewer than most places. Everywhere, there’s always that someone who’s better than the good people, better than most anyone and in Mustang, that someone is Gray.”

My breath flew clean out of me.

“So,” she went on, “you got a guy like Gray, everyone, not just me, but everyone hopes he’ll find somethin’ great. Somethin’ awesome. Somethin’ else. Lotsa sweet girls in town, gotta say, but none of them’d do the trick.” Eyes glued to mine, she finished, “Has to be someone great. Someone awesome. Someone who’s somethin’ else. Like a twenty-two year old girl who walks into a bar thinkin’ she’s invisible and not havin’ the first clue she’s movie star gorgeous. Like a twenty-two year old girl that makes scuffed cowboy boots, faded jeans and a tight henley look like haute couture. Like a twenty-two year old girl who’s sweet to cooks in a bar she’s never gonna meet because she needs food but she don’t wanna put ‘em out when it’s almost quittin’ time. Like a twenty-two year old girl that sizes Bud Sharp up, sees his fancy-ass clothes, knows, she takes a good look in the mirror, she could bring him to his knees and make him beg and live the big life even if it’s in a small town, and she wants no part of a dick like him. Like a twenty-two year old girl who’s got her secrets and holds ‘em close but cares enough about Grayson Cody, she lays out her cards to make sure, when he asks her on a date, she doesn’t go out on his arm and make him look bad. Like you, who could open your door to Gray tonight lookin’ exactly like you look, wearin’ exactly what you’re wearin’, and, I’m tellin’ you, he won’t be disappointed and no one, not Gray, not anyone in this town, not anyone on this goddamned planet would take a look at you two and not think you belong together.”