“My three o’clock or your three o’clock?” Amanda asked, turning her head slowly to try to locate the man in question.
“My three o’clock. White Stetson. Blue shirt. Great ass.”
There were several white Stetsons in the general area Leah had indicated, but Amanda knew the woman’s tastes, so she didn’t have to ask which cowboy had caught her eye. “I’m on it,” Amanda said, and she hopped off her stool.
She grabbed her empty glass and headed toward the bar. Tomás would have refilled it for her, but she needed a reason to bump into Leah’s dreamboat. And the whole “going to the bathroom to powder her nose” thing felt trite.
When she reached the back of the guy Leah was interested in, she paused and turned to glance at her friend, lifting her eyebrows to seek her approval. Leah grinned and nodded. Yep, predictable. Leah liked her cowboys tall, blond, and with a little meat on their bones—pretty much the woman’s physical opposite. If the man had blue eyes and a bit of beard scruff on a strong jaw, Leah would be in insta-lust.
Amanda took a step back so she could gain momentum and then rushed forward and bumped into the cowboy’s broad back. “Oh, excuse me,” she said, rubbing the guy’s shoulder to undo any damage. “I was in such a hurry to refill my drink, I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going.”
The guy turned, and Amanda immediately began her Leah-checklist as she assessed whether to introduce him to her friend or not. Leah was painfully shy, so approaching men was difficult for her. Amanda held no such reservations.
The man’s eyes were shadowed by the brim of his hat, but were light in color—either gray or blue—so were sure to melt Leah into a puddle. Check. He had a friendly face, a bit too round to be handsome, but he was definitely cute. Hesitant check. His smile was pleasant and he didn’t leer at her or stare down her shirt. Enthusiastic check. So far, he was getting good marks. He wasn’t completely approved yet as he hadn’t spoken, but she had a good feeling about this one.
“Did you hurt yourself?” he asked.
Showing concern for her well-being but not using it as an excuse to paw her. Check.
“Oh, I’m fine. I was more worried about you. I just plowed right into you like an idiot.”
“A pretty little thing like you is going to have to hit me a lot harder than that to do any damage.”
His come-on was a bit oafish, but not the worst introductory flirting she’d encountered. Not by a long shot.
“Can I refill that for you?” he asked, nodding toward her glass. “What are you having?”
A little fast, but he probably thought she was hinting for him to buy her a drink.
“No thanks. I don’t think my boyfriend would appreciate me accepting a drink from a gorgeous stranger.” She waited for his response, hoping he didn’t disappoint her by suggesting she ditch her boyfriend and go back to his place. No way would she introduce a jerk like that to Leah. And more than one guy had said exactly that in this same situation.
He frowned slightly, but tipped his hat at her. “Lucky guy,” he said. “You take care now, darlin’.” He turned back toward the bar, cradling his drink between both hands and yep, looking a little lonely.
Amanda set her empty glass on the bar and caught the bartender’s eye for a refill.
“Are you here alone?” Amanda asked the cowboy as she waited.
“I thought you had a boyfriend,” he said, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye and blushing slightly.
“I do. I’m going to level with you. What’s your name?”
“Colton and yes, I’m flying solo tonight.”
“Nice to meet you, Colton. I’m Amanda. I’m not trying to pick you up. My friend thinks you’re cute, but she’s too shy to come hit on you herself.”
The guy chuckled and turned in his stool, glancing around, presumably for the smitten friend she’d mentioned.
“Don’t be obvious,” Amanda said, clutching his arm. “She’d kill me if she knew I was doing this.” Not really. Leah expected Amanda to do this. “She’s over there in the corner. Black hair. Pink sweater.” Amanda tilted her head in Leah’s direction and then noticed she was cornered by two guys who were obviously drunk and checking none of her boxes. Cringing away from the one trying to wrap his arm around her, Leah looked ready to bolt. Crap.
“Just a minute,” Amanda said to Colton. “I’ll be back.”
Amanda rushed to the table. “Is there a problem here, gentlemen?” she said loudly.
“Yeah, there’s a problem,” said a guy who looked barely old enough to shave. “She won’t dance with me.” His words were slurred, his eyes unfocused.
“Maybe she doesn’t want to dance with you,” Amanda said, checking with Leah for validation. Staring at the hands she held twisted in her lap, Leah shook her head vigorously. “She’s probably afraid that you’re so drunk you’ll fall on top of her and crush her.”
“You look a lot sturdier than she does,” the guy said, leaning heavily into his silent friend looking ready to fall flat on his face. “You dance with me.”
Sturdier? Oh yes, Casanova, how could I resist that wonderful compliment?
“Get lost,” a deep voice said from behind Amanda. “You’re bothering the ladies.”
The drunk whirled to confront the intruder, but seemed to recognize that Colton was much sturdier than himself—and Amanda—and he was also steady on his feet.
Leah’s harasser stumbled away with his friend’s assistance. “Whatever,” he grumbled. “She was ugly anyway.”
Amanda’s foot automatically shot out in front of him, and he had to grab some random dude in the crowd to keep from face-planting on the dusty wooden floor. “Asshole,” Amanda muttered under her breath.
“Are you okay?” Colton asked Leah.
She flushed prettily and nodded. “Thanks for chasing them away,” she said.
“My pleasure, miss.” He lifted his hat, momentarily exposing hat-flattened blond hair, and Amanda smiled at the flush that rose up Leah’s face.
Yep, Leah was definitely interested.
“Would you mind sitting with us for a while?” Amanda asked. “Just to keep drunk jerks from hitting on us.”
“I reckon so,” Colton said, smiling at Leah, who was currently stealing glances at him but who had yet to make steady eye contact.
It must suck to be shy, Amanda thought.
As the trio munched on nachos and nursed their drinks, Amanda ushered her tight-lipped companions through small talk. She had no problem getting both of them to talk to her, even if they weren’t talking to each other. Or even meeting each other’s eyes. Perhaps Leah would be better off if she didn’t have Amanda there as a crutch.
Amanda allowed the conversation to lapse, watching her friend for cues. Maybe Leah didn’t like this guy after all. Did they need to have a BFF conference in the ladies room? Amanda opened her mouth to announce her need to use the restroom, but Colton turned to Leah and said, “Say, Leah?”
Leah glanced up into his eyes and flushed before focusing on the second button of his Western-cut blue shirt. “Yes?”
“I’m not much of a dancer,” he said.
“Oh,” Leah said before lifting her gaze and offering him a sweet smile. “That’s okay.”
She was totally into him, and apparently Colton had been too polite to tell Amanda to shut the fuck up and get lost so he could make his move.
“If you’re not against a few crushed toes . . .”
“I’m not,” Leah said a bit too eagerly.
“Would you care to dance? Or rather, endure my clumsy attempts at dancing?”
“I’d love to.”