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Mieka groaned and rolled her eyes, but a stern look from Triss had her sobering her expression.

“Just promise me it’s not line dancing. Or square dancing.”

Triss merely shrugged, then resumed impaling the chicken cubes on the skewers.

Mieka groaned again. “I hate line dancing.”

“Line dancing? Seriously?” Asher groaned as they stepped into the cliché country tavern with country music playing and the scent of cheap beer and straw heavy in the air.

“Come on,” Triss encouraged, as the four of them made their way to a vacant table. “It’s Friday night, and we need to do fun things like this while we can, because once we’re parents, we might not get another date night until the kids are in college.”

Nate was all smiles, so was Triss, but Mieka and Asher exchanged glances and she could tell her brother-in-law felt exactly the same way she did. And she would rather be anywhere but at a bar line dancing.

The server came over and Nate ordered a pitcher of beer and a ginger ale for Triss.

There were about twenty people all up on a small platform, dancing in sync to the song. The rhythmic clomp clomp of their boots was hypnotic and despite how badly she didn’t want to be there, Mieka found herself drawn to their feet and the way they all moved in time with the beat.

The server returned with their pitcher and glasses and Nate went to work pouring everyone a beer. “I should have asked, but do you like beer, Minx?”

“It’s fine,” she said, taking a healthy sip. “Not my favorite, but I’ll drink it.” The foam tickled her upper lip and before she could lick it off, Nate was leaning forward and wiping her lip clean with his thumb.

She was paralyzed. Then her heart nearly stopped beating altogether when he brought the pad of his thumb to his mouth. A deep, clenching twist formed in her lower belly, wringing liquid heat between her legs as her eyes fixated on his lips and the way his tongue darted out to lick off the foam from his thumb.

“The fuck’s going on with you two?” Asher asked, well, more like demanded. “What the hell was that?”

Nate shot his brother a bored look. Mieka’s entire face was on fire.

“Leave it be, dear,” Triss said, patting her husband’s arm. “Nate’s just messing around.”

But Asher wasn’t buying it, and Mieka already knew Nate’s motives. This was all part of his elaborate plan to convince her that ranch life wasn’t so bad. To give him and Colorado a second chance.

“Drink up, then come dance with me,” Triss ordered, pointing at Mieka’s glass which was still two-thirds full.

Mieka shook her head. “I’m not dancing.”

“Like fuck you’re not,” Nate said.

She shot him a glare. “Yeah, like fuck I. AM. NOT.”

Triss pouted, pushing out her bottom lip until it was enough of a purchase for a bumblebee to land on like a flower petal. “Please?”

Mieka’s glare settled on her sister. Triss just smiled wider.

Mieka finished her glass, slammed it down on the table and ordered Nate to pour her another.

His face was wreathed in smiles as he did so. So was Triss’s.

It took four glasses of beer for Mieka to finally allow her sister and Nate to pry her flat butt out of the chair and haul her up to the dance stage.

She’d never line-danced before, but it was easy enough to learn and follow. They all got into position, Triss and Nate on either side of Mieka in the front row. The music started, and with her hands on her hips, right over the belt loops of her jeans, she moved to the beat.

Triss was terrible. She couldn’t stay on beat to save her life and kept bumping into Mieka. Eventually, she gave up and, with a laugh, went and snuggled with her grumpy-looking husband.

Nate was good, though.

Why was Nate so good at this?

He glanced at her as they danced side-by-side facing the audience, his smile wide and beautiful. She could not keep herself from smiling back.