The Last-Chance Maverick. Christyne Butler

was still using five-word sentences.

      “Thanks for being my screen.” She stepped back around to the table, laying her sweater over the closest stool. “I don’t think anyone noticed.”

      Ha! Now she’d done it. Twice!

      “Noticed what?” Jonah asked, looking at her. His gaze stilled, locked somewhere around her mouth before it slowly traveled the length of her body.

      The slow appraisal caused those pinpricks to rise into goose bumps along her bare arms. She quickly blamed it on the bar’s air-conditioning, but her girly parts enjoyed his perusal so much her toes curled inside her favorite suede ankle boots.

      “You—ah, you changed.” Jonah’s words came out in a low whisper. He lifted his beer to his mouth, ready to tip it back, but then noticed the bottle was empty and set it back down.

      “Actually, I just took off a layer.” She tugged the edges of the tank top down over her hips, but it barely covered the pockets on her leggings where her phone, driver’s license and cash were safely tucked away. “All that dancing made me hot.”

      “Yeah, I can see that.”

      Vanessa smiled and leaned against the table again. “Hmmm, I’m not sure if I should take that as a compliment.”

      Jonah started to reply, but before he could, Vanessa’s gaze caught on something—or should she say someone—on the other side of the room.

      Without stopping to think about what she was doing, she laid a hand over Jonah’s and said the first thing that popped into her head. “Hey, architect, want to be a hero?”

      His gaze dropped to their hands for a moment, and then he looked at her again. “Excuse me?”

      “There’s a cowboy—tall, big shoulders, plaid shirt—heading this way.”

      Jonah quickly looked around the bar. “You do realize you’ve just described about every man in here?”

      “This one’s wearing a hat like your brother’s...I know, a lot of men are, but he’s standing on the other side of the third pool table and stealing glances at me with a determined look on his face.”

      This time Jonah glanced to his left and Vanessa watched as the two men made eye contact. Oh, boy, she hoped this was a good idea.

      “Is that bothering you?” He turned back to her.

      “Well, ever since I told him I don’t kiss on the first date, he’s been angling to get me to go out with him again.”

      Jonah’s hazel eyes darkened. “For a second date?”

      “Third, actually. I didn’t kiss him the last time, either,” she hurried to explain, wanting him to understand. “I just wanted to get to know him a bit better, but no sparks, ya know? I told him it would be better if we were just friends, but the guy won’t take no for an answer.”

      At that moment Eli returned, setting two beers and her glass of ice water down with a noisy clank before pushing their drinks across the table. “Your friends decided to stop by the ladies’ room—drinks in hand—so who knows if we’ll see them again. Hey, look at you. Getting more comfortable?”

      “Much.” Vanessa reached for her glass, enjoying a long sip of the cool liquid. She didn’t know if her throat was so dry because of the dancing or this crazy idea of hers. “Oh, I so needed that.”

      Jonah took a long swallow from his beer. “Yeah, me, too.”

      “So, what do you say?” She set the glass back down, and gave him a gentle squeeze. “Help a girl out?”

      Eli’s gaze bounced back and forth between them, before it landed on her hand on Jonah’s wrist. “Ah, did I miss something?”

      “I just need a favor from your brother.”

      “Jeez, I’m the one who bought the lady a drink.”

      Jonah shot his brother a dark look, then turned to her again. “What do you want me to do?”

      Now that he was agreeable, Vanessa realized she was at a loss for ideas. Boy, what else was new?

      Was it enough they were standing here, practically holding hands? Maybe she should slide a bit closer? Press up against his shoulder?

      Biting down on her bottom lip, she tried to come up with something when the jukebox switched songs and a classic country music ballad came on.

      “Dance with me,” she said.

      This time Eli laughed. “Oh, you’ve picked yourself the wrong rescuer, Vanessa. If there’s one thing Jonah doesn’t like to do, it’s dance.”

      Okay, maybe it would be enough if she just stood next to him. Surely, her admirer wouldn’t cause any trouble if it was clear she was here with someone else, and now that Eli was back...

      “How presumptuous of me. I’m sorry.” She released her hold, her fingers lightly sliding back across his skin. “I guess I’ve got to learn that I can’t assume every man in town is a cowboy or likes to two-step. Never even thought—”

      Jonah surprised her by capturing her hand in his. “Come on, let’s dance.”