Page 31 of The Pucking Proposal

“No problem,” he answers. But then he says, “Joy?”

I look at him again. I know him from somewhere. After a second, it hits me, and I gawk. “Marshall? I haven’t seen you in years. How’re you doing?”

Rayleigh catches my eye, checking if I’m okay, then cuts her glance to a guy beside her who’s holding out a hand. I nod and she dances off with him.

“I’m good. You? Sorry, didn’t mean to make you lose your dance partner. You mind?” Marshall offers his hand.

I hesitate for a split second, thinking.

One, Marshall was a decent guy in high school, and while I have no interest in him, it’s nice to catch up with an old friend. And two, there is no good reason why I shouldn’t dance with him given the fact Dalton’s probably done hooking up with Blondie and moving on to her friend by now. Or having a threesome with both of them, given his reputation.

So I slip my hand into Marshall’s and let him guide me around the dance floor.

He’s a great dancer who makes me look better than I am, spinning me and shooting around my back only to join me right in step. All the while, he easily carries on a conversation. “I hear your dream came true—sports on the local news?”

I nod, not having to count the way I usually do with his strong lead. “What about you?”

“Home visiting for the week,” he says as we cut to the right, “but living in Wyoming now. Welding for the coal mine.”

I smile up at him. “I can see you doing that.” Marshall was a quiet guy in school, often keeping to himself, so working long hours inside a helmet where he wouldn’t have to talk to anyone sounds right up his alley. “It seems to suit you.”

He’s obviously a hard worker. His hands are rough and calloused where he’s gently holding mine, and he’s solid beside me.

Not like Dalton, who’s monstrous.

And that doesn’t matter,I remind myself,because he’s off with someone else and whatever we’re doing is casual. Suuuper casual and meaningless.

“Thanks. I like it up there,” Marshall says before clearing his throat. “Met a guy in the mine, and we’re saving up to buy land.”

I smile widely and swat his rock-hard shoulder. “Marshall! Good for you!” I exclaim, happy for him, and he ducks his head, hiding his answering smile.

“Thanks.”

We dance the rest of the song plus one more, catching up on the old days and current events around town. At one point, I spy Dalton stalking around the edge of the floor, and when we get close, I boldly meet his eye.

He looks ready to spit nails. Or beat the shit out of Marshall.

I toss him a cavalier wink, letting my internal pettiness loose.

Payback’s a bitch. And so am I.

Chapter 14

Dalton

Where the fuck is she?

I was watching Joy and some asshole dance around the floor, and shewinkedat me, and then I lost sight of them. I’ve stalked the perimeter of the floor three times, checked the bar, and scanned the picnic tables where people rest and talk. I don’t see her anywhere.

What’s worse? I don’t see the asshole dude-bro in a red flannel either.

She didn’t leave with him, did she? No way. She wouldn’t have done that. Right?

I replay that wink, the fire in my gut burning hotter and higher than the bonfire.

“Hey, man! Whatcha doing?” Shepherd asks as he comes up with a bottle of hard cider.

It takes effort, but I force myself to calm, or at least to appear that way. In fact, I stretch my arms overhead and fake a yawn. “Think I’m heading out,” I tell him.

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