Page 15 of The Undercover Cowboy

“Let’s just say it made me value the importance of abiding by the rules, and being honest whenever I can,” he said, his tone tinged with bitterness.

She lowered her voice to a near whisper. “Being undercover must be hard for you then. It’s a kind of lying, isn’t it?”

He looked up at her sharply, as if he was surprised that she came up with that. “Yeah, exactly. I know it’s a necessary part of the job, but it makes me feel like my dad.”

“Well, you’re doing this for good. I bet he did it for the money.”

“Some of the time. Most of the time, though, he did it because he could.” Nash shook his head in disgust. “I can’t tolerate anyone who lies. Myself included.”

His words sent a shiver down Dolly’s spine. All the more reason to keep him at arm’s length.

She looked up to find Nash studying her, his dark eyes filled with curiosity.

“So you used to be a professional cheerleader,” he said, as if trying to picture her in that role. “What was that like?”

Dolly felt a twinge of fear, wondering if he would somehow connect the dots to her past as an escort. She had been very careful to separate herself from Leisure Industries. There wasn’t a digital trace to prove that she had ever been connected with the escort service. And yet, she knew she needed to grab his attention so he wouldn’t probe any deeper. “You won’t believe the crazy stunts we used to pull. It was like being in a reality show, but with more glitter.”

Nash leaned in, intrigued. “Go on.”

Dolly didn’t like the shift back to her past, but she was glad to keep him talking. “All right, so picture this—it’s Monday Night Football, and we’re in the middle of this intense routine. We’re doing these precision kicks, right? And just as I go for a high kick, I accidentally kick off my own shoe, and it goes soaring into the stands, hitting a hotdog vendor right in the ketchup bottle.”

A wide grin spread across Nash’s face. Dolly faltered. He was really good-looking when he did that. She wished she could get him to lighten up like that more often. When he smiled, it really did transform him into someone more approachable. Shecleared her throat. “I had to finish the routine with one shoe on. My teammates called me Cinderella from then on.”

“Did you ever find your prince?”

“Sadly no.” She smiled as another memory came to her. Dolly was caught between mortification and hilarity.

“What’s that look for?”

“I haven’t thought about this one in a long time. I must have tamped it down in my memory. We had this grand plan for a surprise entrance during a championship game. I was supposed to descend from the rafters on a harness, landing gracefully on the field. Well, let’s just say gravity had other plans. The harness got stuck, and I ended up swinging back and forth like a human pendulum. It was like a cheerleader version of Tarzan gone wrong. Our sound guy was quick on his feet. He queued up, “Yakety Sax”—you know the theme song from the old Benny Hill show? The crowd went wild.”

“Were you scared?” he said.

She paused. He was supposed to have laughed—everyone else did when she told that story. Instead, he looked concerned. “Petrified,” she said after a beat. But then because looking into his eyes was too intense, she concentrated on her food. “They eventually got me down and I cheered the rest of the game. We won. Thirty-three to twenty-five.”

“That was very brave.”

“Nah,” she said, trying not to feel his words in her heart. “Brave is getting back on an enraged bull after not being on one in several years.”

“Bet you looked better doing your thing than I did,” he said.

“That’s why they paid me the big bucks.”

As the conversation lulled, Dolly tried not to stare at him like a lovesick buckle bunny. There was just something about him that did it for her. He looked rugged and handsome with his strong jawline and dark hair. Dolly’s gaze lingered on the wayNash filled out a T-shirt. Why did he have to be so damned good-looking? What would it be like to kiss him?

The air between them felt charged, electric, but it was the underlying current of unease that Dolly noticed more than anything. He hated liars. Finding out she had been an escort would be a total deal-breaker, and potentially a heartbreaker, for her. She needed to keep this professional. Dolly focused on the clink of silverware and the murmur of voices at nearby tables, trying to ignore the growing tension.

“Did you hear about those Mexican fighting bulls they’re bringing in for the next rodeo in Laredo?” a man at a neighboring table said.

“Sure did,” another replied. “They say those bulls are meaner than a rattlesnake with a toothache. Can’t wait to see how the riders handle ’em. This is the first time the UPRC has brought them in.”

Dolly’s eyes widened as she leaned in toward Nash, her voice barely above a whisper. “Do you think that’s a clue?”

“At this point, I think anything could be a clue,” he drawled.

“So are we going to investigate?”

“We?”

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