Sidelines (Wounded Hearts #1) (21 page)

“You’re not a bad dancer.”

“It’s not that. I just think you and I should…”

“Should what?” The truck coasts to a stop at a stop sign just outside the cluster of houses that make up Walker city limits.

“Well, I think…we should probably…”

“Just spit it out, Allie.”

“I don’t want to hurt your feelings.”

He narrows his eyes at me before focusing back on the road in front of us. The truck jerks forward, telling me I’m a little too late for that.

“And what feelings are you not wanting to hurt, Allie?”

Cold, distant, and clearly pissed off Logan is back. “Forget it.”

“Nope. Can’t forget it.”

“I don’t want people getting the wrong impression about us.” I sigh, exasperated.

My blurted words land in the air between us and stay there the rest of the way back into town. He backs the truck up against the line of other shiny farm trucks and turns off the ignition before turning to me with eyes shut off and clear of any emotion. “I hate to burst your bubble there, Miss Mooreland, but tonight isn’t about you or me. It’s about this town and its rehabilitation. It’s about celebrating another day of life. It’s about standing as one nation, under God, and celebrating our freedom and independence. It’s about letting loose and having some fun. Think you can turn that constantly analyzing brain of yours off and have some fun and celebrate with us for a few hours?”

Feeling thoroughly put in my place I nod my head and swallow back my pride. Without another word, Logan jumps out and carefully closes the door before swiftly making his way to my door. I take the moment to embrace his words and let them sink in. Maybe tonight, just for one night, I could let myself have a little fun, enjoy the time with my new friends, and try not to make a complete fool of myself on the dance floor.

Still in my head, I jump when the door opens and nearly dump the bowl of salad all over Logan. He catches it in time and places it on top of the tool box before coming back to stand at my door. I reach out for his hand again, knowing that these hefty boots will be the death of me if I don’t and do a darn good job of getting to the ground without needing a safety net. But after my feet are planted firmly on the ground, Logan’s grip on my hand tightens just the slightest, drawing my attention up to his baby-smooth face. With heated eyes, he leans in so close I can feel the tickle of his breath on my neck.

“And even during all this celebrating should someone get the wrong impression of
us
, I wouldn’t care.”

He steps back, leaving me in complete shock.

Chapter Eighteen

This Fourth of July celebration is clearly the event of the year. Streams of couples, dressed in their finest western wear, stroll down the wide sidewalks that line Main Street hand in hand. Cowboy hats as fancy as some of the cowgirl boots out for the night on the town.

“I’ll be right back.” The moment Logan steps away, the warm touch of his hand leaves my back and sends a shiver over my bare shoulders. I scan the tent, hoping to find a friendly face sooner rather than later, but just as I think I’ve spotted the Lassiter table, a tall, dark, and noticeably handsome cowboy steps in front of me. The determination in his eyes tells me exactly what’s about to go down, but like a bad movie, you just can’t stop it in time to save yourself.

“Lookin’ mighty nice there, Miss Mooreland.”

“Thank you.” I grasp at just about anything to say to this nice young man, but all words escape me.

“My name’s Cody. Cody Gentry.” His hand floats in the space between us as he flashes a sparkling white smile. I barely get enough time to assess that the man is pretty enough to be a Wrangler’s model before I feel an ominous presence behind me.

“Cody.” Logan’s deep tone makes me jump. Embarrassed, I try to give both men a kind smile.

“Oh, hey, Logan. I was just telling Miss Allie here how pretty she looks. Doesn’t she look real pretty?”

The awkwardness continues to grow as Logan glances my way. Politely, he doesn’t look away from my eyes when he nods his agreement.

“Yes, she does.”

“Thanks, boys, I think I—”

“Miss Allie, if you would, I’d love the honor of a dan—”

“I’m sorry, Cody,” I rudely interrupt him and place a hand on Logan’s arm. It immediately sneaks around me, his fingers finding my waist and applying just enough pressure that I feel the need to lean into him. “I think I see Emma and Owen.” I give Logan a “help me” look and the faintest of smiles tugs at his lips.

“You’re right, shall we?”

I turn back to find a shocked and slightly irritated Cody gaping at us. His eyes dart down to the arm that wraps behind me to both mine and Logan’s faces before he closes his mouth and nods.

“It was really nice to meet you, Cody.”

“Yeah.” He pulls tips his hat, and when his face comes back into view, the irritation has considerably grown. “You too.”

The moment he steps aways, I move toward the table, feeling Logan not get further than an arm’s length away. We squeeze through the maze of round tables and chairs until we get close enough to the Lassiter family table that Jillian jumps up with open arms. Surprising me, she pulls me to her first.

“You look so lovely, honey. I’m so glad you could join us. It’s going to be quite the night.” She leans back and gives me a conspiratorial look.

“So I’ve been told. Thank you. You look stunning too.” Half of her red ringlets have been pulled back and a smidgen of makeup highlights her high cheekbones and sparkling green eyes. She chose a simple chambray shirt, but paired it with a beautiful cream colored lacy skirt and a braided brown leather belt. She looks comfortable and classy at the same time, looking long and very much in love when she glances back to Sam. I didn’t notice him get up until he pulls me into a one-armed hug.

“Ready to show these sissies how to get it done?” he jokes as he squeezes my shoulder.

“Ha. We’ll see about that.”

“Well don’t you worry about a thing. If Logan lets you fall, I’ll—”

“I’m not going to let her fall, Dad.” He sidles up on my other side, standing so close I feel the warmth of his solid body behind me.

Standing between the two men, I’ve never felt safer.

“Better not, son, because I’m sure Cody Gentry won’t be too far away to lend a hand.” He gives Logan a pointed look and nods over his shoulder. Sure enough, sitting a table over Cody is chatting to a couple of other younger couples, but is keeping an eye on the three of us.

Logan huffs but pulls out a chair and offers it to me. Before I can take it though, Emma and Lucy come barreling through the tent, each dragging their beaus behind them. Despite the fact that I just saw them less than thirty minutes ago, they both wrap their arms around me in one big group hug.

“You nervous?” Emma asks as she untangles herself and sits down in the chair to my right. Logan immediately gets onto her and she scoots down one more chair but holds a hand up in Logan’s way so he can’t take the seat yet. I can see his patience with his family starting to wane so I take a deep breath, plaster on a confident smile and shake my head.

“No, I’m good.”

Emma narrows her eyes at me before glancing up at her brother through her lashes. He gives her a challenging look and she pops up again and gives him a hug. He tries to give off the impression that he’s annoyed, but then his grip on her tightens. I’m beginning to understand that it doesn’t matter how much his baby sisters annoy him, they’ll always mean the world to him.

“Allie.” Lucy taps my left shoulder and I find that she’s already bouncing in the seat next to me. “This is Carter. Carter, the infamous Allie Mooreland.”

Carter shakes my hand enthusiastically and tells me it’s a pleasure to meet me. In his zealousness, he starts popping off questions about players I’ve met and games I’m scheduled to attend this upcoming season. Lucy shows little restraint in displaying her irritation with him, and before long she decides to talk over him to Emma. Poor Carter gets the message loud and clear and promptly stops asking me any further questions.

The conversation around me picks up but I’m too busy checking out my surroundings. The town has blocked off at least three blocks’ worth of street and popped up a bunch of tents. Red and blue lights have been laced around the bracing and matching tinsel hangs like a banner along the edges of the covering. The Lassiters chose a table not far from the make-shift stage that was constructed in the middle block. A band starts to unload their equipment and set up big boxy speakers to be perched on stands at attention on either side of the stage. Long tables with red, white, and blue plastic table cloths line the opposite side of the street from one end of the tents to the other with dish upon covered dish of homestyle cooking. The tantalizing aroma messes with the nerves settling in my stomach and when I feel a hand on the back of my chair, I feel them jolt up to my throat.

“What’s wrong?” Logan is so close that with just a turn of my chin, we’d totally be lip-locked.

“Nothing.”

“You look like you’ve been stung by a bee.”

Not really thinking about it, I do turn toward him. He leans back an inch or so, but smiles nonetheless.

“I’m fine.” Then someone plugs in a guitar and starts strumming chords.

“Mmhmm. You know, you don’t have to dance if you don’t want to.”

“Then who are you going to dance with?” The words slip out before I really think them through. Logan grins at my obvious jealousy for just a moment before a commotion across the table pulls our attention away from each other.

“Oh my goodnes! I didn’t think you were coming in until next week?” Jillian flies out of her chair and throws herself into her eldest son’s arms.

Drew.

I chance a glance at Logan as he pulls his hand off the back of my chair. Both sisters stand up and rush to hug their big brother while Logan works to school the muscles in his face. I want to reach out to him, comfort him in some way, but before I can he stands and I feel the tension start to escalate. When it’s his time to greet his brother, he shakes his hand, but neither of them reach for a hug. Both give each other solid “good to see you’s” and I’m surprised by how good Logan is at hiding his anger from the rest of his family. When he turns to look at me, I can see the pain flash through his eyes. He holds out a hand to help me out of my seat. When I stand my anxiety simmers down as he squeezes my hand.

“I believe you’re already familiar with Miss Mooreland.” Logan presents me to his brother, but his hand never leaves mine. And Drew most definitely notices. I pull my hand from Logan so I can shake Drew’s and for some reason feel like I’m betraying him in the process.

“It’s good to see you again, Drew.”

“It’s always a pleasure, Mooreland. So you got suckered into this shindig, did you?”

His choice of words makes Emma and Lucy burst into laughter. I can’t help it, but I find them amusing as well. “You have no idea.”

I meant it as a joke, but when I glance over my shoulder, the stolid look on Logan’s face tells me he fails to see the humor in my statement.

Drew gives me a weird look but I shake him off and turn back to my seat. Though just as I’m about to sit, a loud screech comes over the speakers.

“Welcome to the 34th annual Walker Fourth of July Jubilee.” A man who Logan tells me is Mayor Havenstead stands in jeans and a short-sleeved, red, white, and navy plaid pearl snap shirt on the stage. “We’re so glad you could join us in celebrating this great nation’s birthday. In just a moment we’re gonna get a line started for supper, but before we do, I’ve asked Pastor Mike to ask a blessing over us. Then here in a bit we’ll have some sweet tunes, as the kids call it nowadays, from The Muddy River Buddy Boys. Just a friendly reminder that the fireworks will begin around ten o’clock. And here’s the good Pastor now.”

***

“Oh my word.” Sitting back, I suck in a breath and pray my dress doesn’t split down the side. Every single dish that smelled delightful was equally tasty, and at this point I couldn’t get out on the dance floor even if someone were to roll me.

“I’ll second that.” Lucy pushes her plate away and leans back in her chair too.

“So much good food, so little room.” Owen pats his full stomach, too, his hand finding the back of Emma’s neck as she eyes us all over her empty plate.

“I know how to make room for more.” She eyes him and starts to stand.

“Where are you two going?” Sam eyes his daughter over his glass of ice tea.

“To warm up.” Emma takes off her jacket and lays over the back of her seat.

“Warm up?” I ask. She makes it sound like square dancing is a HIIT workout.

“Oh! You haven’t seen them dance yet, have you?” Lucy perks up and the ever present excitement lights up her eyes. Her enthusiasm for life is so energizing it’s contagious.

“Well they did try to teach me how to do the Melon Wobble.”

“Watermelon Crawl,” Emma corrects. “And that’s not what she’s talking about.”

I look to Logan hoping he’ll cut to the chase and explain what everyone is so excited about. He gives me a conspiratorial smile and wipes his mouth on his napkin.

“Just wait for it,” Drew pipes in. “It’s pretty amazing to watch.” He looks to Logan and I can tell he’s not as enthralled by whatever his sister is about to do as the rest of his family.

The band wraps up a song just as Emma and Owen join a few of the older couples on the floor. When I shift in my seat to watch them, I feel an arm lay across the back of my seat. Shivers crawl across my clammy skin when Logan leans forward and his breath meets the skin of my neck.

“Just for the record, I don’t approve.” I suppress the chuckle that wants to escape.

“Why am I not even surprised right now?” I turn to find him closer than I expected. Those ocean blue-green eyes dart to my lips and I’m suddenly wildly aware that his eyes aren’t the only ones pinned on me. Turning back to watch his sister and Owen start dancing as if they were in some kind of competition, doing all sorts of spins and lifts, I gulp back the rush of emotions fighting their way out. A purely lustful feeling overcomes me and I suddenly, desperately need some space from Logan

“I think I need some dessert.” I start to stand before a hand meets my shoulder and without thinking about it, I shrug it off.

“What would you—” Logan’s shock registers on me a second too late.

“I’m sorry.”

His features harden and I try to reground myself with a deep breath.

“Everything okay?”

I don’t have to look around to know every pair of eyes at our table and a few of the tables around us are watching our every move. Pulling on a confident smile, I nod. “Everything’s great. But I could use some air. I’ll be right back.”

“I’ll walk you out—”

“No. Please. I’ll just be a minute.”

Logan doesn’t look all too happy to let me out of his reach, but I hold that smile on my face until I’m out from under the smothering tent and am half a block down the street. I’m relieved I brought the jacket with me when a cool evening breeze hits my clammy skin. Pulling it on, I reach for the pocket and thank whichever guardian angel placed my phone in it.

“What’s up, Buttercup?” Walt answers on the first ring.

“Nothing. I just had a second and wanted to check in. How are you doing?” I pray that he doesn’t hear the rattling in my voice.

“I’m fine, Allie Cat. But what about you? You sound a little shaky. Everything going okay at that dance thing Logan took you to?”

“I’m fine. Just need to hear a familiar voice, that’s all.”

A moment passes and I wonder if he dropped the phone.