Page 90 of Holiday Hire

He chuckles. "Your secret is safe with me. But thank God you said that, because I'd go represent at a club if you wanted to, but I'd much rather go out in Texan style."

I tilt my head, peering at him closer, challenging, "You'd go if I wanted, even though you don't want to be there?"

He catches my eye, then affirms, "Yes."

All the times I wanted to go to an art gallery or try a new restaurant, flash in my mind. Lance never went anywherehedidn't want to go. I always had to go on my own or with friends.

"Did I say something wrong?" Alexander asks.

I take a deep breath and shake my head. "No."

He squeezes my thigh and then releases it. He grabs the steering wheel and pulls into a full lot. "Then let's go tear it up Texan style." He shifts the truck into park, turns off the engine, and jumps out of the truck. He makes his way around the front.

I glance at the pink neon sign that reads Boots. Country music blares from the building. A line weaves around the brick walls.

Alexander opens my door. He holds out his hand. "Ready to have the night of your life?"

I chirp, "Are you able to guarantee that?"

"Yep. I'm no stick-in-the-mud," he claims.

I take his hand and step down to the ground. "I told you that isn't what I think."

He chuckles. "Come on, Pheebs." He returns to his protective stance, guiding me toward the building. Instead of going to the back of the line, he steps in front of the bouncer.

"Alexander. Been a while," a huge man with tattoos all over his neck greets, holding his hand out.

Alexander slaps it, replying, "Yeah. Things have been busy on the ranch. Good to see you, Matt."

Matt glances at me, then back to Alexander, "And who's this?"

Alexander tugs me closer to him. "This is Phoebe. Phoebe, Matt."

"Nice to meet you, Phoebe," Matt offers.

"You too," I say.

Matt unhooks the black rope and steps back. "Have fun."

"Thanks, man," Alexander offers, and Matt pats him on the back as we walk past the line and into the bar.

The noise grows louder. Energy buzzes around us. There's a live band, and they end the current song by going straight into a rock one. Bodies fill the dance floor, and there isn't an empty seat in the house.

Alexander weaves us through the crowd and shouts, "Carter!"

A twenty-ish man with a tattoo sleeve, big gauge earrings, and a gold chain looks over. He grins and leans across the bar. He takes both hands, pushes them between two people, and shouts, "Step aside."

The line of people obeys.

Alexander moves us forward, keeping me in front of him. He yells, "Beer or something else?"

"Beer," I reply.

He holds up two fingers and slaps down cash.

Carter fills two pints and sets them down. He slaps hands with Alexander, nods at me, then picks up the cash.

Alexander hands me a beer and takes the other one. Then he guides me to a round high table where a petite brunette and a stocky man stand. He sets his drink down.

---