Page 88 of The Check Down
There’s a moment of awkward silence before Cam puts the poor girl out of her misery. “Thanks for bringing these over, Suzie.”
“No problem. You folks have fun.” She smiles at the table and gives Shaw one final look, then she sashays away.
“See what I mean?” Trixie takes a swig of beer and sets it on the table with a clatter. “A sweet, twenty-two-year-old who could haveher pick of almost any dude in here. Yet, she sets her sights on this old man.”
Shaw rests his forearms on the table. “Thirty-six makes me an old man, huh?”
Trixie huffs a laugh, but her response is cut off when her mom appears at her side, wiping her hands on the seat of her jeans. “Mama!” She beams and leans into her mother, who smacks a kiss to her cheek. “The place is hoppin’ tonight.”
Dottie rounds the table to greet each of us. “Tell me about it. Half the bar has joined Griff and Tuck’s fan club, so I thought I’d sneak away while they’re occupied.” Dottie gives Shaw an affectionate pat on the head. “My favorite nephew,” she declares as he lets her sneak a kiss to his stubbled cheek.
“Aw, I thought I was your favorite,” Cam whines next to Shaw.
Dottie rounds Shaw and tugs on Cam’s ear. “You are my favorite.” Cam dons a smug smile, but it melts into a scowl when she follows that up with “My favorite pain in the ass.”
Trixie barks a loud “Ha!”
Then it’s my turn. Griffin’s aunt sidles up beside me and squeezes my shoulders. “Brynn. It’s so good to see you again, hon.”
“You, too.” I peer up at her. “This place is amazing.”
She scans the crowd, her lips tipping up. “Yeah, my John would be proud as punch to see it so packed.” She plants a final kiss on her daughter’s head. “You kids have fun tonight.” Before she walks off, she taps Shaw’s shoulder. “Don’t let this one have too many.”
Trixie joins her mother in her teasing. “Lightweight,” she singsongs.
Shaw’s only response, as if he’s used to it, is a shake of the head.
The band, finally warmed up, starts playing in earnest.
“That’s my cue,” Trixie announces as she pops up from her chair. She saunters to the stage, hips swaying, and takes up a microphone. And when she belts out the opening line to a Shania Twain song that entices a large group to the dance floor, I gape.
Shaw chuckles at my bewildered expression and cranes his neck, taking in the stage. “Trix sings with the band most weekends. Wait until you hear her take on Reba.”
My jaw drops farther, this time because of the quiet man across from me. He hasn’t spoken that many consecutive words to me since we met. Heck, I’m not sure he’s spoken that many total.
Tucker and Griffin finally return, arms laden with drinks. They give identical shrugs when they notice the new round of bottles that arrived while they were gone and add their haul to the mix.
“I didn’t know Trixie sang,” I say to Griff when he settles in his seat.
“Yeah, she’s great, right?” He rests his arm on the back of my chair and traces small circles on my shoulder as we listen.
Cam turns his chair around, ignoring the group. Only a few bars in, he’s transfixed on the talented redhead with the microphone.
The youngest Lacey looks from me to Cam and back again, then gives me a wink. “Griff, you gonna get your girl out there or should I offer to take her for a spin?” Tuck wags his brows and gives his brother an antagonizing grin.
Griff chucks a bottle cap at his brother’s chest, then he clutches my hand. “Promised you a two-step, professor,” he calls over his shoulder as he leads me to the edge of the dance floor.
The second our feet touch the smooth, wooden planks, hundreds of eyes find us, scrutinizing. If I look out at the crowd, I’m sure I’ll see dozens of cell phones raised, recording our every move.
For the first time since we went public, the pressure of being the center of attention weighs on me, like I’m wading into a lake with rocks in my pockets. My legs lock, and my muscles tense.
He pivots back, studying my face with a concerned frown.
“I don’t know how.” As panic claws its way up my throat, I gather my hair off my neck and drape it over my shoulder. “And everyone’s watching.”
He steps into me, rests his large hands on my collarbone, and lifts my chin with his thumbs. I grip his forearms and inch into the safety of his powerful frame.
His eyes are a grayish green in the dim lighting as they search my face. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. Say the word, and we’ll head straight back to our seats. But if your fear stems from the phones pointed our way, then we need to figure that out. Because itwillhappen again. As much as I hate that you’ll experience it over and over, it comes with the territory. But I told you—I’m not keeping you a secret.”