What’s a cowboy to do when another guy is moving in on the girl he’s got his eye on? Take charge and take her back! That’s what Wes does when his best friend Shooter makes a play for Maryann in the excerpt from TEXAS TWO-STEP below.

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TEXAS TWO-STEP EXCERPT

Maryann took another swallow of something that tasted far too good and went directly to her head. “What is this again?”

“Energy drink with alcohol in it.” Shooter grinned. “I figured it would help you with the jetlag and all.”

It sure was helping her, helping her think maybe she should grab Shooter’s enormous buckle and see what was behind it. That reminded her… “Ellen said something before I didn’t understand. About cowboys collecting bunnies and buckles?”

Shooter choked on the mouthful he’d just taken. “Jeez, girl. Warn a guy before you say something like that.” He coughed and then wiped his face with his hand and grinned. “So you want to know about buckle bunnies, do ya?”

Maryann nodded. “Yes.”

He looked even more devilish than she’d gotten used to him looking in the short time she’d known him. At least she thought he did as his face swam a bit before her. She needed to stop drinking this stuff.

“Well, let’s just say the bigger the buckle, the better the cowgirl.” Shooter smirked.

“I still don’t get the corr…correlation.” Maryann frowned as it took her two tries to get out the last word.

“Women like cowboys who win. When we win an event, we get a big buckle.”

“Like yours.”

“Like mine.” He grinned and took another swallow from his cup.

“So you’re saying girls are attracted to you for your big buckle.”

Shooter coughed again, then shook his head and put his cup down next to him. “I’m not drinking any more. A man’s liable to choke to death around you. And yeah, girls may come on to me for the big buckle, but they stick around because of what’s behind it.”

Maryann swallowed hard at his insinuation. “Oh.”

Wes came around the truck, cell phone in his hand. In her inebriated state, she’d forgotten for a minute that his cell phone had rung and he had to walk off to try and find better signal. “Ellen just got out of work and has a flat tire. She needs me to come help her change it.”

“Go. I’ll get Maryann home safely.” Shooter waved a hand at him.

Wes’s sandy-colored brows rose high beneath the brim of his hat. “Oh, really? And how exactly would you do that? Being that we all came in my truck.”

Shooter shrugged. “I’ll call a cab for us.”

“No, I think I’ll feel much better if I drop you off at your place, Maryann at my apartment, and then go and get Ellen.” Wes turned to her. “That sound good to you? You ready to go home?”

Maryann nodded. The party had been like something she’d never experienced before. Trucks, cowboys, music, alcohol, but she was more than ready to go before she did something stupid, like start dancing in the back of the truck like the scantily clad girl currently gyrating nearby.

“Good. Let’s go.” Wes nodded with a glance at Shooter.

Wes placed his hand beneath her elbow and guided her around the truck. He opened the passenger side door, but the height of the truck seemed beyond her in her state. She handed him the cup she still held so she’d have both hands to climb up with.

“You sure do know how to ruin my good time.” Shooter shot Wes a less than friendly look.

Wes snorted. “That’s the plan.”

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