Page 9 of Love Me, Cowboy

“Do you want—” Mary Catherine started.

“I’m fine,” Claire said, keeping her head down. “I’ll be right back.”

Her mind screamed to turn around. To look into Tyler’s face and see if he might be feeling what she was feeling. But Claire knew better. He’d only danced with her because Mary Catherine pushed him to do it. Same as he’d only taken her to bed because they’d both been drunk.

And she’d been his sister’s frumpy best friend who’d been hard up and desperate.

The bright light of the bathroom blinded her as Claire raced through the door. By some miracle, the room was empty, so she moved to the mirror and stared at the unfamiliar face looking back. The makeup Georgia had applied made Claire look worldly and experienced, two things she would never be.

Running on emotion, she snagged a paper towel from the dispenser and rubbed roughly along her lips. The red substance was as determined to stay on as Claire was to get it off. Wetting the towel, she rubbed harder, staring into the mirror at the frantic woman she’d become.

Then she stopped as quickly as she’d started. What was she doing? Claire was no longer the fat girl in high school afraid to be made fun of at the dance. She wasn’t the chubby college sidekick to the pretty head cheerleader and stunning star athlete.

And no one had made Tyler stay on that floor with her. That had been all him. No coercion from his sister. No alcohol talking, and there was no pity in the voice that had whispered in her ear. Maybe she was wrong. Maybe she’d been wrong for a long time.

It was too late to repair the lipstick, but Claire took a second to apply the light pink lip gloss she kept in her purse. Her hazel eyes looked brighter with the coal black liner surrounding them, and as gaudy as the outfit was, it did show off her figure. The figure she’d worked hard to get.

“Hey there, sugar,” said a familiar voice from Claire’s left. Turning, she spotted one of the secretaries from the school.

“Hi, Carlene.”

“You’re looking good tonight, lady,” the older woman said, her bright-pink lips turned up in a smile. “About time you stopped hiding under those old sweaters.”

Claire wasn’t sure how to respond. She liked her sweaters.

“I saw you twirling around the floor with Tyler Holly.” Carlene sighed. “I’d give my best pair of Ropers if Cooter would look at me the way Tyler was looking at you.” Patting the sides of her bouffant, which looked teased to within an inch of its life, she added, “All Cooter ever does is say, ‘Get me another beer, Car,’ while looking right through me. I don’t know why I put up with that man.”

Torn between wanting to ask how Tyler was looking at her, and the urge to console the woman who’d been waiting more than twenty years for Cooter Hightower to pop the question, Claire patted the secretary on the shoulder and held silent.

“I s’pose we take what we can get,” Carlene said, applying a new coat of pink lipstick, then smacking her lips together. “Getting that Holly boy would be a score and a half if you ask me.” Carlene surprised Claire with a quick pinch on the cheek. “And it looked to me like you’re about to score big. Good for you, honey.”

With that, Carlene disappeared into the noisy bar, leaving Claire dazed and confused. If someone else spotted Tyler giving Claire an interested look, then it had to be true. Then she wasn’t imagining what had sizzled between them on the dance floor.

One more deep breath and Claire walked out of the bathroom with her head high and her shoulders back. But halfway to the bar, she saw him. Tyler. On the dance floor with a woman who was tall and lean with legs that went on forever. His new dance partner was laughing and spinning, and Tyler grinned down at her every time she faced his way.

Angry with herself for letting her imagination run wild, there was no way she could spend the rest of the night watching Tyler dance with every pretty girl in town. Or, God forbid, leave with one. No, she couldn’t do that.

Without bothering to find her friends, Claire changed direction and walked out of the bar.

* * *

Tyler escorted Britany back to her husband as soon as their dance ended. Danny was a good guy but suffered from a complete lack of rhythm. So anytime he was around, Tyler gave Britany a spin around the dance floor as a favor to them both. Danny offered to buy him a beer, but Tyler turned him down, anxious to find Claire for another dance.

Only she was nowhere to be found.

“Where’s Claire?” he asked an off-balance Mary Catherine as she exited the dance floor.

“I thought she was with you,” she said, the words slightly slurred.

“No.” He shook his head. “I haven’t seen her since she hit the little girls’ room.”

Mary Catherine shrugged, which sent her swaying.

“Whoa there,” Tyler said, steadying his big sister. “I think you’ve had enough for tonight. Let’s get Johnny to pour you some coffee.”

Mary Catherine jerked away. “It’s my party and I’ll drink if I want to.”

Tyler rolled his eyes. Bug never had been able to hold her liquor. All but dragging her to the bar, Tyler lifted his sister onto a stool, then let her lean on him so she wouldn’t fall off.

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