Page 101 of Need You Now

The Silver Dollar Saloon is the lone bar closest to the cabin. But it’s been Seth and Luke’s hangout joint whenever they came up to this neck of the woods. Down home, familiar, the Brothers Kincaid never pass up a chance to play here. It’s low-key, chill, and has them remembering their roots. Dive bars. Honkytonks. Tips in buckets.

The group enters the bar to dueling jukeboxes and buzzing neon lights. A long high-top table awaits, the reserved sign staking their claim. The bartenders wear elf hats and sling drinks with reckless precision.

After getting their instruments settled onstage, the group gathers around the table. Sal, Luke, Griff and Alabama on one side; Lacey, Seth, Jace and Emmy Lou on the other.

“Have we ever been here before?” Sal asks Luke in a low tone as she surveys the bar for familiar surroundings.

Luke’s eyes go soft in that way they do whenever he answers one of her questions about the past. “A few times, darlin’.”

“Busy for Christmas Eve Eve,” Emmy Lou observes.

“Everyone wants to party,” Alabama murmurs.

Griff nuzzles her hair. “We should be doin’ that too.”

An exaggerated sigh fills the air.

Seth turns.

Lacey, wearing a giant white parka with fur trim on the hood, is trying to slide onto a stool.

“Jesus Christ,” Seth says, grinning. “Can you fit behind the table in that thing?”

“Shut it, Seth.” With a little harrumph, she gives up the fight and slips off her parka.

Seth’s jaw drops, immediately regretting his harassment. Immediately going hard in his pants. He grips the table, his eyes on her tan legs, on her itty-bitty dress. His voice drops to a whisper. “Holy shit. Put the coat back on.”

The glint in her narrowed eyes says baby, it’s payback.

“Here, Sal,” Lacey says loudly, reaching across the table just enough so that her dress rides up, exposing toned, tan thigh. “I’ll take your jacket.”

Sticking her tongue out at Seth without missing a beat, Lacey walks herself over to the coatrack. As Seth slips onto a stool beside Jace, he can’t do anything but stare.

He ain’t never seen anything hotter. Lacey, her hair teased wild, wears a ruffled denim minidress that doesn’t fit the bar, that’s out of place, but that’s Lacey. That’s his Lacey, and he fucking loves it. Hell, he doesn’t know how he’s gonna control himself tonight. That dress is doing things to his brain. Crazy, overheated things.He’s got no patience for keeping his hands off her.

Apparently, no one’s got patience. Because he sees them—every cowboy in the bar is tracking Lacey. Their eyes hungry, just like his. Some beautiful, blond, hip-swiveling target. But it don’t matter—he ain’t jealous, because he’s the one who’s with her.

He’s the one taking her home tonight, and if he has his way, every night after.

A chirp of a voice scatters his thoughts. “Why are you gazin’ at Lacey?” Emmy Lou’s peering at him, owl-eyed.

He scowls. “I ain’t gazin’.”

Jace cocks a brow. “Sure looked like gazin’ to me.”

“Hey, Jace, shut the fuck up.”

Lacey struts back to the table, taking a seat beside Seth. She gives him a satisfied smirk and all he can do is chuckle. “You enjoy that?”

“Very much.”

Beneath the table, he slides a hand up her bare thigh. Lacey stiffens slightly, then relaxes, looping her pinkie around his. A soft smile on her pretty face, betraying nothing to Sal, who sits across from her.

A waitress appears, dropping beers and shots of apple pie moonshine on the table.

Luke pounds the table, leaning over to kiss Sal’s temple. “Let’s get our good time on.”

Seth cackles, glad to see his brother so carefree for once. Luke had a few back at the house, they all did, which had everyone buzzy and bright before the driver picked them up. “Think I’m flashin’ back to the early years of the Brothers Kincaid,” he quips to Jace.

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