Page 27 of Dashing for Love

At the bar, I order a glass of white wine and turn to face the crowd, scanning to make sure I haven’t missed him. He said he’d be in a cowboy hat, which, of course, made me smile like a total fool.

A couple on the floor catches my attention, and I look closer. The man is tall and broad-shouldered, and built like a tank. His dark auburn hair is tamed more than I’ve ever seen it, and in his arms is an absolute stunner of a woman. It’s Ox…with awoman?

This night just got a lot more interesting. As I watch, Ox’s hand slides down the woman’s back possessively, then he pulls her close and presses a kiss to her lips. The whole thing is incredibly sensual, and it feels like I’m watching something I shouldn’t. Clearing my throat, I take a sip of the cool wine and look away.

“Hey, Goldie.”

I nearly jump out of my skin. “Ox?” Then, I look back at the dance floor and exhale a laugh. “That’s Levi out there, isn’t it?”

Ox grins. “It is.”

“Wait.” The blood drains from my face. “How did you know it was me?”

He winks behind his mask. “I’m just that good.”

My eyes bug out. “Seriously?”

He nods. “No.”

I swat his arm. “Asshole.”

He laughs. “Your sister told me what you looked like. Otherwise I’d have no chance. You look beautiful,” he says softly.

I grin. “Thanks, Ox. And you look very dashing yourself.”

He looks down at the dark blue suit he’s sporting. He really does look incredible, and I’m kind of mad at myself for not realizing it wasn’t him on the floor out there. For one, Ox has a beard. “Thanks.”

“Anyone here catch your eye?”

He gives a noncommittal shrug. “Maybe. And what about you? You’re meeting someone, right?”

I swallow, nerves hitting me all over again. “Yes.”

He nods, studying me. “Well, I’ll be around if you need anything, yeah?”

“Thanks, Ox.”

He takes his leave, and I glance at my watch. It’s getting closer to when James will be here. My heartbeat kicks into overdrive.

Breathe, Goldie. You’ve got this. And hey, Ox is here. So if this goes sideways, he’ll kick the guy’s ass.

I take a deep breath and blow it out.

A few minutes later, I see a man who must be James enter the room, and my heart basically stops.

He’s tall, but not too tall, and has a slim build. He’s wearing the black cowboy hat, as promised, and a simple black mask. He begins to make his way to the bar, scanning the crowd as though he’s looking for someone, and it allows me time to observe him a little more.

Something about him—his walk, maybe?—is familiar.

The closer he gets, the more I can’t breathe. I shouldn’t be this nervous. Why am I so freaking nervous?

And then he’s near me, elbows resting softly on the bar as he faces one way while I’m still leaning with my back against the bar.

His scent. I know that scent.

Then he speaks. “Snuffleupagus walks alone.”

Our eyes meet, and I nearly faint.

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