Page 41 of Curvy Nanny for the Cowboy

Making this woman happy, I was starting to realize, made me happy. Tonight I felt lighter and freer, happier than I’d felt in a long damn time, and it was just her nearness that gave me permission to feel that way.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d like to go dancing.” She smiled again, and that toothy white grin smacked me right in the chest, causing my heart to skip a beat.

“No one has ever taken me dancing before, not like this. A dance here or there in high school, maybe a club or two in college, but this is,” she shook her head and sighed, “this is perfect, Colton. Thank you.”

After a few more songs, we headed to the bar for a drink. “What’ll it be, Molly Mae?”

Her eyes lit up at my use of her full name, and another laugh spilled from her lips. “Whatever you’re having, cowboy.”

I didn’t bother to remind her that I was a rancher, not a cowboy, because she was too damn sexy. “Dark beer?”

She winced slightly but then stood a little taller and gave one sharp nod. “Yep. Two dark beers,” she said as she turned slowly to the bartender. “Please.”

“Sure thing, doll.” The bartender winked, and though Molly rolled her eyes, she also blushed as she turned back to me.

Her smile was radiant. The pulse in her throat fluttered wildly, and I liked to think I had a little something to do with her flustered state. “Didn’t peg you as a dancer.”

I shrugged. “During that sweet period between sixteen and nineteen, when I was working the ranch nearly full-time, Friday and Saturday nights were the only downtime. Wyatt and I would sneak in here, steal a few beers, and twirl pretty girls around the dance floor. Turns out women love a man who can dance.”

The story surprised her, and she tossed her head back; a husky laugh tore through the air. “Bet you and Wyatt made quite the pair—big and young and handsome, whisking all the ladies off to the dance floor, pissing off the older guys.”

I blinked in surprise. “Pretty much.”

The bartender set the beers in front of us; his gaze never left Molly, even when he swiped the money from the counter.

She took the beer and turned to me. “To first dates and good dancers.”

“And beautiful girls in red boots and denim skirts.”

“I’ll drink to that.” Molly took a hesitant sip and frowned before she took another, bigger taste. “Not bad, actually. Bitter, but there’s a nutty or chocolatey taste underneath.” She took another sip and then another, smiling bigger with every sip. “Okay, I’m starting to see the appeal.”

“Colton McCall, haven’t seen you out in a long time.” Jack Winters clapped me on the back with a wide grin before he turned a wider one on Molly. “Now I can see why.”

“Molly,” she said with a laugh and extended her hand.

“Jack Winters. Pleased to meet you.”

“You too,” she grinned. “How do you know Colton?”

“Jack and I grew up together,” I offered with a smile. “And he went and became a bull rider.”

Molly’s eyes widened. “Wow, how does one get into that line of work?”

“Lots of grit and skill, and a bit of insanity.”

She laughed, her gaze bouncing between us. “I’d love to hear about it sometime. I’ve never even met a bull rider before.”

Jack smiled and turned to me. “Guess I’ll see about swinging by for dinner one of these days.”

“Guess so.” Jack and I had been good friends for most of our lives, but he’d been away when Sara died, and after that, I was in survival mode for the past few years. “Good to see you, Jack.”

“Back atcha, Colt. See you soon, Molly.”

After a few more turns on the scuffed dance floor, Molly and I headed to a nearby steakhouse for dinner. “It was a good idea to burn those calories before dinner,” she sighed as we settled into a booth with menus. “Now I can really enjoy my dinner.”

“You’re beautiful,” I assured her, and it wasn’t an empty compliment. Molly was confident most of the time, but she’d told me enough to know that her curves were still a source of pain for her. “Always beautiful, Molly. Period.”

“Thank you, Colton. You make me feel beautiful even when I look a mess.”

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