A Maverick To (Re)Marry

Life? Sometimes it just wasn’t fair.

Derek couldn’t stop himself. He turned to Amy. “Dance with me?”

Her eyes looked almost golden right then, golden, green and softest brown. She swallowed. And then she nodded.

He took her hand—so smooth and cool. It fit just right in his, same as it used to all those years ago. He pulled her up and led her out among the dancers, gathering her close, maybe closer than he should have.

So what? She smelled like heaven—like wildflowers and sunshine. And her body felt just right brushing close to his. Maybe he’d dance with her all night long, never once let her out of his arms.

He pressed his rough cheek to her silky hair. “I’m sorry I didn’t call.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“I don’t know. I kept meaning to.”

She pulled away enough to turn those big eyes up to him. “Apology accepted. I was going to call you.”

He stared at her lips too long, caught himself and shifted his glance back up to meet her eyes. “But you didn’t call me.”

“I didn’t know what I would say. I also had a feeling you might not answer the phone or call me back. I felt...out of my depth, I guess. So, I just kept putting it off.”

“Yeah, well. All that, what you just said? Me, too.”

“We need to stop this. We’re two grown adults.”

He almost chuckled. “Coulda fooled me.”

“Derek, we’ve got a bachelor party to plan.”

He sucked in her scent of flowers and sunshine. “Yeah. We need to get going on that.” Holding her like this felt so natural, so completely right. It made the years kind of melt away.

And he really needed to keep a grip on himself. This would go nowhere. It was only a dance.

“So then,” she whispered, “we need to make a date to meet and then we need to stick to it.”

“A date?” He said it in a playful way and felt stupidly proud of himself that he’d managed to tease her. “You want a date with me?”

She slanted him a sharp glance. “Yeah, a date. But not a date.”

“So...a non-date, then?”

“Exactly. And I mean it, Derek. We need to make it soon. We’ve got two weeks till the bachelor party. Viv dropped by the farmhouse yesterday and asked how we were doing with our plans. I promised her we’d have it all figured out in the next few days.”

Amy was right. No more mooning around like a heartsick fool. It was all over years ago and he needed to stop stewing about it and hold up his end as Luke’s best man.

“Tomorrow,” he said. “I’ll pick you up at six. Ever been to Maverick Manor?”

“No.”

“Great. We’ll go there and you can get a look at the place. It might give us some ideas.”

“All right. That works.”

“We’ll get a couple of fancy burgers and come up with a bunch of activities to satisfy Viv Shuster’s list-making soul.”

“Perfect. I’m in.”

The song ended.

Another cowboy tapped him on the shoulder. Get lost, he almost let himself say. But not quite. He gave Amy a hint of a smile. “Thanks for the dance.”

She nodded. “See you tomorrow, then.” And she turned into the other cowboy’s waiting arms.

* * *

The next day, Amy spent way too much time trying to decide what to wear to Maverick Manor that night. She finally settled on a turquoise halter dress with a handkerchief hem and a pair of matching high-heeled sandals. Why not dress up a little? From what everyone said, Maverick Manor was an upscale sort of place.

True, this was not a real date, but it couldn’t hurt to look her best.

Maybe, just possibly, she went a little overboard, pumicing and shaving and getting everything all smooth and sleek. And then she used up a whole hour on her hair and makeup. But taking the time to look good was so worth it, a real confidence-booster. And with Derek, well, she needed all the confidence she could muster.

At five thirty, she was trying to decide between a shoulder bag and a clutch, wondering if she ought to bring a light wrap, when her phone rang.

It was Derek. “Amy? Hey. I’m really sorry, but we’ve got some fences down and I’m not gonna be able to make it tonight, after all. We’ll have to reschedule.”

Reschedule.

Her heart sank. It felt like a lead weight in her chest.

How had this happened? Somehow, she’d gone and let herself look forward to the evening, let herself forget that this was only a meeting, a non-date.

Tears blurred her vision—which was totally ridiculous. She dropped to the edge of her bed and fiddled with the filmy hem of the dress she wouldn’t be wearing tonight after all. “Oh. Ahem. Well, I totally understand. You just give me a call tomorrow, why don’t you? We’ll set up something else.”

“Amy, are you all—”

“Listen.” She swallowed down the lump in her throat. “I’ve got to go. Talk to you later.”

“But are you—”

“’Bye, now.” She disconnected the call and dropped the phone on the bed. And then, teeth gritted, eyes shut, she willed the tears away. So silly, to get all emo just because an old boyfriend needed a rain check on their non-date. It was in no way, shape or form a big deal.

Except, well, he’d been so much more than just a boyfriend...

But she wasn’t going to even think about all that. That was all in the past and it needed to stay there. She’d moved on long ago, gone out with other guys. Once, she’d almost gotten engaged. But when it came right down to it, well, it hadn’t been true love and she just couldn’t say yes. Not like with—

No. Stop. Not going there.

Besides, her dating history was not the issue. What mattered was that the days were flying by and they really did have to make some plans for the big party. They had a great venue and everyone had already been invited. Music and food were taken care of, or so she’d been told.