Page 23 of Backup Cowboy

Where is he? I haven’t seen him at all, and between check-ins with my assistant and Cal, I haven’t had time to look longer than a second. My eyes roam the crowd milling around, some at whiskey-barrel pub tables, others at the grouped seating, and I find him over near the band.

“Hi.” My smile wide, I touch his arm to get his attention. “I hope you saved at least one dance for me tonight.”

Heat flickers in Caspian’s eyes as they sweep over me, then vanishes just as quickly. “That’s not a good idea, Alex.”

“Why not?”

“The festival is in two days, and both of us are swamped. I think we both got confused about what this is. Better to step back before it gets messier.”

A sea of hurt overtakes me, but I try not to show it. “There’s no confusion, Cas. You and I both know exactly what this is. When you can man up and open your heart, let me know.”

Before he can say another word, I head to where Rebecca and her friends are dancing and laughing. They welcome me with open arms, and we dance the night away.

Chapter 12

Caspian

I’m an asshole. There’s no two ways about it. Alex put on a bright smile last night and played every part the professional record executive, but the hurt look in her eyes as she ripped me a new one played over and over in my head the rest of the evening and all of today.

I worked at the ranch while she worked at the festival grounds overseeing promo.

Even though it’s well past midnight, my fist hovers at her door, but I don’t know what I’ll find behind its mahogany exterior.

That’s if she even opens it at all.

I deserve her anger. But I also deserve a shot. I've spent too long thinking I wasn't deserving of patience or forgiveness. Getting to know Alex has shown me that support doesn't have conditions. It's just there when you need it.

Inhaling deeply, I knock on her door. It takes a few seconds before it swings wide.

Damn if she isn’t the sexiest woman around, her hair damp, her face scrubbed clean, ratty sweats and all.

“What are you doing here, Caspian?” Her voice is clipped.

“I’m manning up.”

She crosses her arms and leans against her door. She won’t make this easy for me, that’s for damn sure.

“Can I come in?”

“I don’t think so.” She points between us. “The festival is starting, and we're both swamped, remember?”

“Please.”

“I'm not confused anymore, Cas. Crystal clear, actually. And clarity tells me to keep this door closed.” She starts to shut it, but I cut her off.

“I’m falling for you, Boots.”

She blinks at me several times but remains silent, the door partially open.

“I was a jackass and pushed you away.”

“Why?”

“Divorce is hard. It plays a number on your head, and I left that relationship feeling like I wasn’t healthy or deserving of someone’s love.” I lean my head against the door jamb. “But your support through my panic attack was the final piece that helped me realize my ex is the one who failed me, not the other way around.”

I take out my phone and open my music app, playing Scotty McCreery’s “Bottle Rockets.”

“All I want is a dance, Boots. Just one.” I set my phone down and begin to hum.