Page 11 of The Cowboy's Friendly Wake-Up Call

Quick as lightning, Mercy chases down her hat and has put a good six feet of space between us by the time I snap out of my stupor.

"So what time is the thing tonight?"

I'm still standing on the dance floor, rooted to the spot and trying to wrap my head around what just happened, but Mercy's practically half way back to the hotel already.

"Starts at seven."

I'm not sure she can even hear me answer her, she's walkin' so fast.

Jogging after her, I slow my pace before I catch up all the way.

All these years of imagining that moment and every possible way it could happen-- and when it did, I blew it.

Now she's walking so fast I can hardly keep up with her and when I get beside her, she won't look at me.

"We still have a couple of hours," I point out. My brain's spinning, trying to figure out what I'm supposed to do.

"Exactly."

I didn't think it was possible for Mercy to walk any faster, but she manages to pick up the pace, making me work to keep up with her.

"It never takes you two hours to get ready for anything."

I'm only half teasing. Trying to get things back to normal between us and wanting to slow the hell down and ask her what that was about back there at the same time.

Ask for a fucking do-over.

Fall to my knees in front of her, beg for another chance, show her how things are really supposed to be between us.

Mercy finally slows down, but when she turns to smile at me, it seems downright bashful.

"Yeah well, you never asked me out on a fancy date before."

The usual sass is back in her voice, telling me she's just joking around, but there's a pink tint to her cheeks that has me thinking maybe it's time I let Mercy know how I feel.

Chapter Six

Mercy

Lance responds to my quip with silence.

Dammit. Why'd I have to say "date?"

It was supposed to be a joke. The kind we've been volleying back and forth between each other for most of our lives now.

"So I figure I'll just hang out down here, and when you're ready, you can come down and switch places with me?"

I'm talking too fast and can't meet Lance's eyes when we get inside the hotel lobby. I just gesture absently toward the sitting area where I can hide in a corner and doom scroll videos on how to live through the most embarrassing moment of your life.

"Uh, yeah sure, okay," Lance mumbles as I practically shove him toward the elevator doors. "You could hang up in the room if you want, you know--"

"Just text me when the shower's free, and I'll swap places with you."

"Yeah, fine." Lance is looking at me like he's worried about me. Hell, I'm worried about myself. That's why I can't go upstairs with him, even if it's just to hang out in that tiny little sitting room while he gets ready.

I've made a big enough fool of myself already today, I don't need a chance to do any more stupid stuff.

The elevator doors close between us, with Lance giving me a hard glare that says his brain is busy wondering if he should say whatever it is that he's thinking.

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