Page 38 of Twins for the Secret Prince
“Well, I’m glad I provided the entertainment for the night, at least.”
“Pete, that was just the start. Drink up. I need you limber for what’s going to happen next.”
Pieter’s mood perked up. “Oh really? What’s happening next?”
Eva looked at her watch. “You’ll see in about fifteen minutes.”
Fifteen minutes later, they were back in the noisy front area of the roadhouse, which had filled up with people while Pieter was having his run-in with the mechanical bull. Before Eva told him what was up, he knew from the exaggerated Western costumes that people had come to dance.
Sure enough, the line-dancing caller welcomed everyone and invited them to take up their positions. Pieter made a beeline for the back row, wanting to be as inconspicuous as possible. Eva stood beside him.
“You can’t hide forever,” she said in his ear. “There’s a lot of spinning and turning in these dances. This is bound to be the front row at some point.”
“That’s just wonderful,” Pieter said sarcastically. “That’s exactly what my ego needs right now — more bruising.”
“Maybethiswill be your roadhouse sport.” Eva laughed.
But it definitely wasn’t. Pieter felt like he had ten feet, all of them moving in a direction other than that in which they should be moving. Eva managed to gracefully sidestep him for the first few songs until Pieter attempted a kick-spin move, which he executed in the wrong direction and with such momentum that he ended up kicking Eva hard in the shin.
“Son of a—” she yelled, rubbing her shin. “Ouch!”
“I’m so sorry!” Pieter bent to rub her shin, too. “I didn’t mean to.”
Eva shuffled away from the line, and Pieter followed her. “Well, there goes the end of my dream of getting the MVD trophy tonight.”
“MVD?” Pieter yelled over the music.
“Most valuable dancer,” Eva said miserably.
“I am sorry. Have you won the trophy before?”
“Pete, I’m pulling your pickle,” Eva said, eyes twinkling. “There’s no such thing as the MVD trophy. And even if there was, they definitely wouldn’t give it to me.”
“Why not? You were the best dancer out there tonight.”
“You’ve had too much to drink. Or maybe you do have a concussion after all. Or maybe both.”
“Maybe. But I know what I know, and that is that you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. And the bravest. And the strongest. And the only one who’s ever really dared to pull my pickle.”
Eva burst out laughing.
“…If that means what I think it means,” he said hesitantly.
“Don’t people pull your pickle where you come from?”
“Nobody has ever pulled my pickle, or talked about pulling it, for that matter.”
“Well, then it’s about time that someone pulled it.”
Pieter took another swig of his bourbon. “I’ve kind of lost the thread of what we were talking about here.”
“You were saying I’m the most amazing woman you’ve ever met.”
“Oh, right. Yes, I was. And it’s true. No one holds a candle to you, Eva.”
“You’ve had a lot to drink. You should try telling me this when you’re sober.”
“But you won’t let me. You won’t even let melookat you at the base.”
