Page 52 of The Cowboy's Second Chance Bride

“Oh my God, we are so going, and dang it, I’m without my camera.” Cori wrapped her arms around her husband.

“Your phone’s camera will be perfect,” Cricket said.

“I’m warning you all now; do not go line dancing with these two!” Jace called.

“I think Jace might be right. Line dancing might not be a good idea,” Cal said.

“Seriously?” I asked Cal. “Are you saying that because you are an old fuddy-duddy or because you’re chicken?”

“Do not challenge him, Sabrina,” Jace groaned.

“Fuddy-duddy?” Cal asked. “I think only fuddy-duddies use the term fuddy-duddy. I’m not being fussy. It’s just that it’s been a long time, and we were in college then.”

“Exactly,” Jace said. “Good call.”

“Shut up,” Meredith told him.

I kept my eyes on Cal. “Oh, so there’s an age restriction to line dancing? I think you’re just saying all that because you’re chicken. Or maybe it’s because you think you’ve got this image to protect, Mr. Serious-About-Law-and-Order.”

“Nothing wrong with that image,” Fort mumbled.

I continued. “So serious that you have lost your sense of humor. You’re as fun as soaking-wet jeans on a cold day.”

“Well, that’s not fun at all,” Cal said sarcastically.

I gave him a loose eye roll. “But it’s true, right? You know another reason why we shouldn’t do this? Because I think if your dad actually saw you having fun, it would make his head implode. And if you really truly relax, you might actually be able to come up with some new ideas for this fight against him, but mostly, Cal, when was the last time you really had fun?”

He nodded once, like he was processing everything I’d said and then held out his hand. “Okay, lead the way.”

I snatched up his hand, entwining our fingers and dragged him behind me. Fifteen minutes later, we were all down the street at Bruno’s. After everyone put in their food and drink orders, Cal and I stood side by side and watched the folks shuffle across the floor.

I caught his eye. “I think we’re gonna be the youngest people out there.”

“And the rustiest.” He looked nervous. The septuagenarians on the floor were killing it.

“Speak for yourself.” I joined the line as soon as I saw an opening.

The dance instructor, a tall cowboy with blond hair and a close-cut beard, wearing the tightest jeans I’d ever seen on a man, came over and introduced himself. The way the jeans fit this man was provocative. I had a hard time keeping my eyes up on his face because, one, I was curious how he moved so fluidly in such constricting pants and, two, I’d never seen a guy with a butt that… full. Bubble butt, for him, was a flattering term.

He shoulder bumped me as we danced side by side, as a way of introduction. Kyle was his name. He was friendly and not even a tad flirty. He was the exact type Cricket liked, and I couldn’t help noticing that his eyes were flicking in her direction.

“What’s your name?” he asked me over the music.

“Cal,” Cal said over my shoulder, surprising me so much I jumped and missed a step, causing me to stumble into him. He righted me and hip bumped me to get me moving into the right direction.

“I think he was talking to me,” I said.

“Nah, he was talking to both of us, right, Kyle?” He tucked his thumbs into his waistband and spread his shoulders wide, like a peacock preening.

“I’m Sabrina.” I purposefully stepped on Cal’s foot, but he played it cool, showing no sign that he felt it.

“Welcome, Cal and Sabrina. Hope you enjoy the dances. Maybe you can get some of your friends out on the floor too.” Again, his eyes flicked to Cricket.

My phone vibrated, and I glanced at my Apple watch to read the message.

Cricket: Kyle was my match. My good date.

Ohhh. “I’ll see what I can do,” I told him as we all shuffled down the line with three side steps and a turn. Kyle moved away to speak to another person, and I gave Cal the stink eye. “What’s your deal?”

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